#remember: being uncool makes you cool
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A question: do you think, in a kidswapped AU, that universe’s strider family should have the shades, or is it an inherently strider trait? In other words, are the shades inherent to the strider name or the characters themselves?
I think figuring out new eye-darkening setups is half the fun of Striderification, shades or no. Give Jade Strider perfectly circular sunglasses OR let her bangs grow into a veil. Have Rose Strider don a pair of Whoopi Goldberg's smoldering crushed hexagons OR make her a person who is so aloof that she refuses to open her eyes. Let John Strider really, really commit to the beaglepuss. Et cetera
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thinking about married teacher steve and rockstar eddie.
steve’s students like to poke fun at him for “not being cool” or “trying to be cool”, and steve just feeds into it and plays up his cluelessness to modern things and what’s “hip” nowadays. he always just tells them they have no idea, and they’re gonna eat their words one day when they see how cool he really is, but all the kids just laugh and think he’s being sarcastic.
one day a group in his class is talking about the popular rock music star eddie munson, about his music and how much they love him, and steve joins in, asking them about eddie and what kind of music he makes and so on. he says something like “oh yeah, i think i know munson. yeah he’s cool, makes good stuff” and the kids are like “as if you know eddie munson, mr h, there is no way”. steve just chuckles and says “if you say so”
meanwhile eddie EATS EACH STORY UP when steve comes home with a something new to tell him all about what his kids were saying to him today
honourable mention but eddie also is WEAK for steve’s teacher outfits, the button ups, the vests, when he wears a tie WITH his glasses consider eddie a dead man.
on the last day of class for the year steve has given his class almost a free period of sorts to just chat and muck about being that it’s so close to vacation and all, and ofc the topic of steve’s uncoolness comes up again, and he’s just all laughs and smiles not even trying to fight back while they poke harmless fun at him, just looking smug as shit knowing these kids are in for a treat.
the bell goes and they all start to pack up their things to leave, and steve calls out to get their attention, remember the homework, stay safe, have a good break and all that, but THEN who else walks through the classroom door but eddie. munson. heading straight towards steve telling him “hey babe, ready to go?”
“yep, just let me grab my stuff” steve says back, and the class is stunned silent. eddie walks over to steve’s desk and puts a hand on his back as steve is leaning over it putting books and pages into his bag, “you guys are all free to go” he looks up to the class, smug as ever.
as he and eddie head towards the door, steve stops and turns around back to his class one last time, whisper shouting over his shoulder “who’s cool now?”
eddie is laughing infront of him as they walk out together, listening to the classroom they’d just left erupt into chaos.
#eddie munson#steddie#steve harrington#rockstar!eddie munson#rockstar!eddie#teacher!steve#teacher steve harrington#rockstar eddie munson#steddie au#steddie headcanon#steddie fanfiction#stranger things#stranger things 4#stranger things season 4
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@forgettable-au Babybones Fancomic ✨
“Keep Reading” for the rest :3 (10 Pages)
*deep breath*
you hear that?
thats the sound of AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
ok. I spent. 31 Hours of my life on this. And i dont regret. a GODAMN thing.
i will go on, but first, A N A L Y S I S
PAGE 1
The title “Radio Star” comes from the song “Video Killed The Radio Star” by The Buggles. Its lyrics I believe are absolutely perfect for this AU, Examples being “Rewritten by machine and new technology” , “We hear the playback and it seemed so long ago” , and “We cant rewind we’ve gone too far”
The title also refers to how…1, they build a radio-
and 2, Sans calls Papyrus a Star at Grillbys if you call him “uncool”
PAGE 2
Nothing to note
PAGE 3
This is the first real scene I had in mind. The entire concept came from me imagining how Sans’ memories of Wingdings got overwritten, so where in memories he’d call Wingdings by his name, he calls him Papyrus.
In an animation with audio, itd be like “Aw cmon, P A P Y R U S” and be a silly little jumpscare.
Buttttt then ofc the idea turned into a thing where I couldn’t shape it into a “fake” memory.
I wanted to play with their characters as they WERE not how they remember them being.
PAGE 4
Nothing
PAGE 5
As they travel to the barrier, Wingdings is leading, and COMPLETELY focused on his goal. Ignoring Gerson (social interaction) while Sans takes his time and looks around getting “distracted”. This exemplifies the nature of their relationship.
Them in Hotland, they’re actually right next to the lab. Taking the elevator the guards were…guarding. So Sans is looking at the lab like “hey. Hey wingdings, look, look at that building, thats so cool”
PAGE 6
At the bottom is just another example of Wingdings being deadset on his goal, while Sans is helping out but still stopping to smell the flowers
PAGE 7
This panel makes me so happy-
It works??? vs It works!!!
Wingdings doesn’t come across as the kind of guy to doubt himself, I just think he’d be shocked at himself regardless that he pulled this off. Meanwhile Sans is just thrilled 😭
PAGE 8
N/A
PAGE 9
Oh boy this is the finale of explanation.
This conversation that Asgore and Sans have. Is REALLY important to me
Asgore/everyone that isnt sans, cannot understand Wingdings. So, Sans is talking for him. It may come across as him taking all the glory or whatever, but NO. look at his dialogue boxes! they’re not blocking out WD, and he’s like “YEAH 😊 MY BROTHERS SO FUCKING COOL”
Meanwhile Asgores boxes are completely blocking WD out. He thinks Sans built it cause hes doing all the explaining, and Sans isnt getting the hint that Asgore THINKS THAT HE MADE IT its a whole thing
Wingdings appreciates Sans, but he doesn’t appreciate people thinking he did all the work-
Asgores dialogue box when asking “How did you build such a thing??” is covering Wingdings, and he’s looking at SANS. he’s asking Sans how he built it, meanwhile Sans, still not getting the clue, is looking at wingdings like “:) cmon bro, tell him, you know ill translate for you!”
PAGE 10
Sans then understands at least that Wingdings does not want to indulge this- and goes into explaining mode, as hes done it so many times before-
Sans saying “You cant understand him” instead of something like “his font is hard to understand” is important because he is putting the “blame” on you. He’s fully aware this is something Wingdings WISHES he could change about himself so badly, so he just kinda naturally changes his tone which I find really fun when writing dialogue :3
This comic, I feel is an example of how much this AU/comic series means to me-
As much as I obsess over and LOVE comics as a medium, this is the first ever I have ever properly finished. ofc there have been like 2 page ones, but YEAH this is the first BIG one i have ever finished in my entire life.
These characters- as much as they’re Tobys, they are also Sunsestarts in my opinion. The situation they are put in of JUST the font trouble alone is something i’m SO fascinated by and clearly- had the time of my LIFE writing and playing with. And thats ignoring all the other shit that happens BECAUSE of that.
Undertale is special, The Forgettable AU is SPECIAL- THESE SKELETONS ARE SPECIAL
Im on the edge of my seat waiting to see what happens next because I know whatever it is, its gonna be special
also, I made this while listening to Slipping Through My Fingers on repeat. I regret nothing
((ALSO I HIGHLY RECOMMEND TIME/SPACE BY ALEX G, ITS A GREAT SONG IM DEFINITELY GONNA STORYBOARD A FORGETTABLE AMV TO CAUSE ITS REALLY REALLY GOOD, ID TOTALLY TIE IT TO THIS COMIC- BUT ITS MORE FOR PAPYRUS AND GASTER INTERACTIONS RATHER THAN BABYBONES???)
#undertale#undertale fanart#forgettable au#forgettable au comic#forgettable au fanart#undertale comic#undertale fan comic#papyrus undertale#sans undertale#undertale au
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hello mr wil wheaton when you were my age (like exactly i think) you were filming stand by me
I turned 13 during production, so if you're about to become a teenager, I hope you'll let me offer some thoughts that I wish an adult had shared with me, then?
I know this is a wall of text, and giving someone this much of your attention is a HUGE ask. Maybe bookmark this for another time, if you're not into hearing an old man talk.
I wrote this a few days before I turned 50. Thank you in advance for listening, and I wish you a life filled with joy, unconditional love, kindness, and adventure.
Hey everyone! An old man is talking!
In seven days, I will be 50 years-old. This is ... weird. I do not feel the way I expected I would feel when I was approaching 50, nor do any of my friends. The only time I feel like I'm middle-aged is when my body does some bullshit that takes me down for hours because I had the nerve to stand up quickly. And I really hate it when I have to use the flashlight on my phone to see a menu. I mean, at that point, I may as well be dropping my pants for free and singing the Old Gray Mare.
Anyway. This has been on my mind for a little bit, so I had something to say when someone used my tumblr ask me thingy earlier this week:
Q: I hope I'm as cool as you when I'm 49. I'd like to think I'm taking the right steps towards that version of myself. A: So I'm not sure I'm cool, but I do know that I don't suck, and that it's a choice I make every day. I desperately wish someone in my family had told me, or shown me by example, that getting older doesn't mean getting stupid and boring and stuffy and extremely uncool. I wish I'd known that, because I spent all of my life until I was in my 40s feeling like there was this day coming very soon when I would have to stop listening to punk, stop playing video games, put on a suit, and start yelling at kids for no good reason. I didn't know that you don't have to suddenly stop being who you are and become something or someone you hate, just because of a certain age. I know that's super obvious, but to young me, it was not. My dad was an asshole, my mom never showed up for me. Directors and people on set had been treating me like a thing for my entire life. I got yelled at for no reason from adults who knew better almost every day. Most of my elementary school teachers were authoritarian, evangelical assholes. All of these different adults, consistently, shut me down and made me feel like I didn't matter, the things I liked were stupid, and my opinions were invalid because of reasons I didn't understand because I was a dumb kid. So I presumed that when you got to be a certain age, that's what happened. I didn't want to be that, at all, and I was sincerely afraid of the day it would happen. But as I got older, I discovered that all that stuff I hated about adults doesn't automatically happen. Those adults I just mentioned all made a choice to be an asshole. I just didn't know it. I was in my early 20s when I did a movie with a cinematographer who was, I think, 45 at the time. He was the coolest, kindest, most artistic dude I'd ever known. He mentored me and we had epic fun making great art together. I remember telling him, "I'm not afraid of being in my 40s like I used to be. I didn't know you could still be cool." It's sad, that I grew up in such a toxic environment, and didn't know any of these things. So, 9 days before I turn 50, here are a couple things I have figured out: You know who sucks when they hit 49 and 50? People who sucked when they were 20 and never grew up. You know who is an asshole at 49 and 50? Yep. Someone who was an asshole as a kid and never experienced consequences for being an asshole. Hitting middle age has been awesome for me. Other than the aging of my body and its reluctance / refusal to do what I want it to do, I love everything about it. I wish I hadn't spent so much of my life being afraid that, when I hit 50, it was all over. Because honestly it's kind of just starting. The coolest stuff in my life to date has all happened in the last ten years, and I'm so grateful that it coincided with me figuring out a lot of shit so I could enjoy it.
The best part of getting older, by several thousand light years, is the part where we figure out how to stop putting up with other people's bullshit, and we contract our social circle until it's only populated with a VERY few people who deserve us. And I am incredibly grateful for these occasional opportunities to be a 49 year-old dad who can say all the things that would have been reassuring for 19 year-old me to hear (he wouldn't have understood, but 29 year-old me would have remembered, and he would have understood. I think.) I sincerely hope someone hears it and finds it helpful. Anyway, you're gonna be fine. Just remember that being cool, kind, honest, honorable, reliable, listening and showing up … they are all choices. If you want to be cool when you're 49, make the choice and set the example for someone to follow you. Treat kids the way you wanted to be treated when you were young. Listen to them when they offer you the privilege, because that means they trust you, and you have credibility with them. Be a mentor. Be supportive. Show up. Make a choice to be the person you need in the world, and never stop being that person. Start today, and when you're nearing 50 like I am, hopefully you'll remember who you needed right now, so you can be that person to someone else in the future. You're already asking the right questions and taking the first steps. I believe in you. You've got this.
Okay, if you've come this far, perhaps you'll follow me a little bit more, and read a thing I wrote about talking to students just a tiny bit older than you, which contains my core values.
Be honest. I’m a very old man, relative to y’all, and I’ve learned that the only currency that really matters in this world is the truth.
Be honorable. This dovetails with number one. You attract to yourself what you put into the world. Dishonorable people will take everything from you and leave you with nothing. Do your best to be a person they aren’t attracted to.
Work hard. I don’t mean, like, at your crappy minimum wage job you hate. I mean do the hard work that makes relationships work, that gets you ahead in your education, that gets you closer to your goals. Everything worth doing is hard. Everything worth doing requires hard work. Sooner or later, you’re going to run into something in your life that’s really hard, and you’ll want to give up, but it’s something you care so much about, you’ll do whatever you can to achieve it. It’s going to be hard, but it’s going to be less hard for someone who has practiced doing the hard things all along, than it is for someone who doesn’t know how to do the hard work because they’ve always chosen the easy path.
Always do your best. Even if you don’t get the result you wanted, doing your best — which will vary from day to day, moment to moment — is all you can ever do. We tell athletes to leave it all on the field. Whatever your version of that is, do it.
This is the most important one. This is the one I hope you’ll all hear and embrace. This is the one I hope you’ll share with your peers: Always be kind.”
When I read number 5, I looked up at them. I was so happy to see a classroom filled with teenagers who were all listening intently, even the ones I thought had tuned me out. “Here’s the thing about being Kind, versus being Nice,” I said. “I have interacted with lots of nice people who are incredibly unkind. Why is that? How do you choose to be nice but not kind?”
I pointed to my head. “This is where nice comes from,” I said. Then, I put my hand over my heart. “This is where kind comes from.” I put my hands out, like, “get it?”
There was this collective gasp of realization that I did not expect, at all. One kid said “Oh damn!” I saw a few kids look at each other like the trick had just been explained to them. They heard me. They really, really heard me. And it was amazing.
Okay, that's all. If you're still here, thank you for giving me so much of your time and attention. I hope you'll come back in a few years, and let me know how you're doing.
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Chapter one: Childhood
you came from an ok family, you’re parents had you young and struggled to keep you off the streets but they managed; and after sleepless nights and lots of hard work they had finally been able to move to Japan, a nice small house in a nice little neighborhood.
You were excited, new home, new people, a new school! All the new friends you could make! It excited to no end. You were practically vibrating in the back of your parent’s small car, hands and face pressed to the window, smearing the glass as you waved to anyone who looked in your direction as you passed by. Including a bright faced green haired boy and a rowdy blonde who was excitedly punching the air while talking.
When you finally arrived you excitedly grabbed as many of bags your little arms could carry before rushing into your new room and getting started on putting everything you could away.
—
after putting a few of your things away, you heard your parents call out for you. “[Name!] Our Neighbors are here to say hi! They have a few new friends for you!”
you run as fast as your little legs could take you to the kitchen, and there you find two women with their son. You assume he’s about your age he though he is a bit bigger than you and other boys your age; he had dark hair that reached past his ears, bright red eyes, and a big sharp smile. “Hi! I’m Kirishima Ejiro!!” He excitedly yell to you not giving you a chance to speak before he threw himself onto you in a tight hug making you wheeze.
“Ejiro, let her breathe.” One of the women said placing a hand on his shoulder making him step back his smile never leaving, you smiled back.
Your friendship grew stronger and stronger, until the day he got his quirk. He didn’t like his quirk; it wasn’t cool, it wasn’t strong, it just wasn’t a ‘hero’s quirk’ and it broke his little heart; you tried to cheer him up the best you could about how you hadn’t even gotten yours yet but once you did no matter how uncool or flashy it was you’d still be his best friend and you would both become hero’s some day. But as time past and your quirk never came and Ejiro’s insecurities grew, days became darker and darker.
Ejiro barely smiled anymore, his insecurities and jealousy grew and you were slowly being forgotten to the world. Quirkless.
A nobody, that’s what you were to the world now. Even your parents started to treat you oddly; a Quirkless kid, the one thing a parent never wanted to have. But you tried not to let it get to you, you had a job to do. Being a hero, maybe not to the world… but you would be one to Ejiro. You listened to his pains and woes, where there when he fell and always lifted him back on his feet, you were “so manly” as Ejiro put it and he was going to be too.
The two of you had each other, until you didn’t. As you entered middle school things changed, Ejiro and his Family were moving. His mothers had to move for work, and you had no idea if or when you would see him again. In all of your 11 years of living you’d never been so sad, letting him go. Saying goodbye; frowning as one of his moms call to him to “get in the car.” Your best friend in the whole world was leaving, his sad eyes bore into you as his frown sinks even lower… you can’t remember the last time he smiled as bright as the day you two first met, and you couldn’t do anything about it.
And the days only grew darker. As you entered middle school the bullying became relentless… the words Quirkless was all you ever heard anymore. Worthless, Quirkless, loser. That seemed to be what everyone knew you as and when your parents split you had hit your lowest.
Now living with your dad, he wasn’t really around. You’d learned how to live on your own, how to make pasta, how to pay rent, you learn the world doesn’t owe you anything. And you began to hate. No longer were you a happy little kid. You were tired, you were restless, and you longed for the light again. But without anyone you’d found it hard to do anything other than hate.
until you met someone like you, a green hair boy with doe eyes and a big heart.
#yandere kirishima eijiro#bnha kirishima#eijirou kirishima x reader#bnha bakugo x reader#yandere bnha#yandere bnha x reader#yandere mha#mha x reader#bnha x reader#deku x reader#izuku x reader#shoto x reader#shoto todoroki#yandere izuku midoriya#yandere izuku x reader#yandere shoto x reader#Aizawa#denki x reader#bnha denki#denki kaminari x reader#shinsou x reader#hitoshi shinso x reader#tamaki amakiji#yandere mirio#mirio x reader#mina ashido#mina x reader#bnha bakusquad#yandere dekusquad#yandere bakusquad
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two plus two equals six
nerd!takuma ino & popular-ish!fem!reader
contains... both of you being absolute losers and incredibly embarrassing. that's about it.
word count: 9.4k (its been a while since i've written something this long...)
riea's comments: it's been a terrible couple of days but this idea really stayed in my head and i really had to act on it. idk if its one of my best works but i still like it! i will prove my spot as the mayor of takuma city!!!
technically, you weren't supposed to bother him. something about threatening a restraining order but a threat is really just empty words, amiright?
"hey…," you called out towards the man just two feet in front of you, as a result of you sneakily sliding into the seat across from him at the cafe table he sat at. your lips hung on that final syllable, really stretching out that "eyyy". "you're in my gen chem right?" the harmonic clink of your bangles rang through the space you occupied as you focused on making your voice sound as sweet and sultry as possible
the man in question, y'know, the ones your friends call p.f.b.b.. the p.f.b.b. thing was all credits to you of course. every time you talked about that day's writing or chemistry lecture, he was always mentioned as just that: pretty face black beanie, even though "pretty face black beanie" never looked your way once. it was several continuous moments of pure delusion, your pure delusion
p.f.b.b. glanced up at you and gave a small head nod before turning back to his laptop. it had a clear case with a bunch of stickers from bands you didn't recognize amongst other things you assumed he liked. "of course you are! the chemistry between us is just so genuine maybe its cause you're such a gentleman!"
a giggle escaped you as you continued talking. "see what i did there? the gen from genuine and the gen from gentleman both correspond to the gen from gen chem. which i know means general by the way, i'm not—"
"are you okay?"
p.f.b.b.'s eyes were now trained on your form, looking with an expression you couldn't discern as anything but pure concern. but of course, for you, that meant something completely different. under his gaze, you felt your cheeks heat up and you began to fidget. "p.f.b.b., stop looking at me like that! you're making me shy…"
it was silent for a few seconds before he spoke. "why do you keep calling me that?"
"i'm sorry?" you tilted your head a bit
"this is maybe the third or fourth time you've called me p.f.b.b.," he takes a sip from his coffee cup before continuing to type away on his laptop
i've spoken to you before??? is what you thought
and its also what you said.
"well yes," he started, gaze never leaving the blue light of his device, "like that time i answered professor's question and you said 'wow p.f.b.b. you're so smart!'. or that other time when i picked up your pencil case for you as i was leaving the lecture hall. or when—"
"okay i get it! i seriously don't remember that happening at all though… maybe i should start taking memory pills…" you muttered
"i know you're popular and stuff but we're in university now. the bullying thing is outdated and super uncool."
you had to take a couple of moments to fully grasp what he was saying. he thought you were bullying him. he thought you were a bully. and worst of all, he thought you were uncool. your body shivered at that thought and a pit formed in your stomach
"wait—!" you exclaimed, even though he wasn't going anywhere, "first off, i'm not bullying you! the p.f.b.b. thing is an inside joke—"
"am i in on the joke?"
you froze in place. he got you there. "well no—"
"exactly. move to the second thing please." he bluntly stated as he took another swig of coffee
"okay um, i'm not uncool! i'm actually really cool. and i wouldn't consider myself to be popular either!" you scrambled to find your words and for each syllable that you said, you felt that pit in your stomach growing bigger
"everyone in the school knows you. you're popular." he said as he reached into his messenger bag, pulling out glasses and putting them on
you usually would be entranced, but you had way bigger fish to fry. "i—i can't be popular! what if someone asks me for the best date spots, or amazing places to eat, or secret secluded areas for a bit of privacy!? i'm not from here! i wouldn't know! and—and then i'll look like a failure! i'll look like a loser! p.f.b.b. i can't!—wait."
it was only when you stopped talking that he looked up from his laptop, "what…?"
you'd never noticed it before but his voice was really nice, almost to the point where even you would shut up just to hear him talk about any topic that came to his mind
"are you from here?"
"uh, yeah? i was born and raised in this area. why?" p.f.b.b raised his eyebrow at your sudden question to which you sighed in response. "oh nothing…," you cupped your hands on your jaw and looked out a nearby window. "i just wish a local, y'know, someone who's lived here all their life and was born and raised here, knows all the ins and outs of the city…, yeah just wish someone like that would show me around. i'm still new here…"
"well, i hope you find that person."
your eyes snapped open to see him all packed up, headphones on, and that suspiciously never-ending coffee cup in hand. "bye for now."
sitting in shock was all you could do. and sit you did. a calm five or so minutes had passed before you noticed something shiny in your peripheral. a card, but not just any card, a pokémon card, but not just any pokémon card, an ultra rare pokémon card at the back of a phone, but not just any phone, p.f.b.b.'s phone
you struck gold. pretty face black beanie will certainly be looking for this soon enough, and then you'll be there to swoop in and save the day. and it'll go something like this…
"ugh, where is that thing!" p.f.b.b. mutters frustratingly
"what thing?" you say sweetly, batting your eyelashes
"my phone. i must've misplaced it."
"oh perhaps…" you walk over to where he's standing, his phone in hand, "is this your phone?" you look up at him cutely
"yes! this is my phone! you found it! how can i ever repay you?"
"oh… you don't have to. i was just looking out for you…"
"i know! let's get married!"
"well if you insist…"
"of course! i love you!"
cue flowers and glitter and sparkles
you giggled from how creative and vivid the scene was but unfortunately that sound broke you from your delusion and brought you right back to the real world
"i have p.f.b.b.'s phone." you said flatly, opening the door to your shared apartment. shouts of "what?!" and "huh??!" filled the space as you set down your things and laid on the couch. your best friends quickly flooded the living room, throwing questions at you
"ladies, ladies, please. one at a time."
nobara hit your thigh, "stop acting so high and mighty! how did you get his phone?"
mimiko massaged the area as she listened to you, "so long story short, we were talking at a cafe and then he left but forgot his phone so i just picked it up!"
"so… you stole his phone." nanako stated
"no. he left it and i picked it up."
"wait— don't you know his schedule?" nobara mentioned, resting her head on the plush couch, "shouldn't you have been able to give it back to him?"
"well no… i'm not a stalker! i just have general knowledge of when and where his classes will be during the week."
"so why didn't you give it back to him, instead of stealing it?" mimiko teased, now kneading at your calves
"not you too, mimi!" you whined, "like i said, i didn't steal his phone! he left it on the cafe table and i picked it up!"
their voices mixed together to try and get the same two words through that thick skull of yours
"that's theft!"
the arguing of you and your roommates concerning your concerning ethics filled your ears, preventing you from hearing anything else. especially that banging on the front door
nanako shushed you all, bringing her voice to a barely audible whisper, "do you guys… hear that?"
thump. thump. thump.
"its probably one of your packages," nobara mentioned, earning an enlightened nod, "you seriously have a shopping addiction."
the shopaholic stood up and walked over to the door, still whispering, "you're one to talk!" you, nobara, and mimiko watched on as nanako's hand slipped over the door handle and turned it open. you swore that the door wasn't even open for a full five seconds before it was slammed shut. "it's a man."
the four of you exchanged confused looks. "yeah… maybe it's the delivery man…? check for a package," you said reassuringly. the door opens and it closes. nanako's voice right after. "no package."
"well… uh… what does he look like? maybe he's returning something one of us misplaced?" mimiko stammered, feeling the tension in the air rise at the unexpected stranger. the door opens again and it closes again. "brown hair. brown eyes. he's kinda emo looking…"
"spencer's emo or hot topic emo?"
"spencer's."
"wait!" you realized, practically falling over yourself as you ran to the door and pulled it open, "its–!"
"uh, hi..." you said, voice suddenly small compared to your usual playful demeanor. he was standing right outside your apartment door, looking more tired than annoyed, though the crease in his brow said he was definitely annoyed
"hey," he replied, with little emotion. his eyes briefly flicked to your roommates huddled behind you, who had all gone suspiciously silent. "you have my phone."
you unfortunately understood his intentions of finding where you live. it wasn't to ask you on a date, or to take you up on that offer you made earlier, it was to get his phone. you could've lied and said you didn't have it but…
"i do!" you held it up triumphantly like some kind of trophy, though the look on his face immediately made you regret it. "...but i swear, i wasn't trying to steal it or anything!"
his eyebrow raised slightly, and for a second, you thought he might actually laugh. instead, he sighed and reached out his hand. "can i have it back?"
"of course," you said quickly, but just as you extended it toward him, you froze. "wait! how do i know this is really your phone?"
"i'm sorry?" he blinked, looking somewhere between incredulous and exhausted. "you know it's my phone. you picked it up."
"yeah, but..." you stepped back slightly, holding it just out of reach. "what if it's not your phone, and you're just some random guy who also happens to wear a black beanie and drink coffee in moody cafes?"
your roommates groaned audibly from behind you, and you heard nobara mutter something like she's impossible under her breath
p.f.b.b., stared at you for a long moment before pinching the bridge of his nose. "okay. fine." he held out his hand again, palm up. "ask me something only i'd know if it's my phone."
you paused, scrambling for a question. "uh... what's on the back of your phone case?"
"a meowscarada pokémon card. holo, rare," he said without missing a beat. "which you clearly already saw, since you're holding it."
damn. he had you there.
"okay, okay," you relented, placing the phone in his outstretched hand. "i believe you. say no more."
he chuckled softly—barely audible, but enough to make your heart do a little somersault. "thanks. i appreciate you picking it up. i was worried i'd have to replace the card."
before you could stop yourself, you blurted, "you must really like pokémon, huh?"
"it's nostalgic," he admitted, remembering his childhood. "my brother and i used to play together when we were kids."
your lips curved into a grin. "that's cute. guess you're not as emo as you look."
his head tilted slightly at that, but you caught the faintest twitch of a smile at the corner of his lips. "guess not. anyway..." he glanced past you at your still-curious roommates. "thanks again. i should go."
"wait!" you called after him as he started to turn. he stopped, looking at you expectantly. "how do you know where i live? do you live around here or something?"
"i… uh… live just over there," his thumb pointed behind him and you followed that direction to…
the unit right across from yours.
703.
"what?!" you gasped, "how come you never said anything? plus, i never see you in the mornings? how is this possible?!"
"one, we don't know each other well enough yet to know where the other lives," p.f.b.b. scrolled through his missed messages while he continued, "and two, i make sure to leave early and come back late every day just so i can avoid you."
grumbling, you wanted to slam the door in his face again but remembered that you had to choose peace. "that's great! i hope you're happy!" aaaand you slammed the door anyway
yet. we don't know each other well enough yet.
"oh p.f.b.b~!" nanako swooned
"oh [name]~!" nobara giggled
"insert kissing sounds and the actors are running their hands over the other's body."
"stop that!!"
music was blasting and your spirits were up. you were practically skipping to your next class. that was… until you caught sight of a familiar head of blonde behind the granite fountain
"uncle ken!" you called out, rounding the fountain's corner
"hello, [name]. what brings you here?" the well-composed man paused his previous conversation, giving his research assistant a silent apology while he focused on you
you nodded to p.f.b.b. before answering kento, "nothing much! just walking to my next class,"
"uncle…?" p.f.b.b questioned under his breath
unfortunately for him, his mentor picked up on it. "my apologies, i should introduce you two," kento turned towards the other man who seemed to regret his decision of speaking his thoughts, "ino, this is [name]. her parents and i are close so, naturally, she calls me her uncle. and—"
kento spun back to you, using his hand to motion towards "ino". you noticed a bracelet adorning his right hand. kento doesn't like wearing anything that's not a watch and it looks handmade and those colors… yellow, blue, black and brown??? how odd… "[name], this is takuma ino. he's been my research assistant for two years."
it was kind of weird to realize that p.f.b.b.'s name wasn't… well— p.f.b.b. like, he has a whole name: takuma ino. it hung on your lips and your tongue savored the taste. "hi," you spoke, giving ino a small wave. "hey," he responded, parroting your motions
"was that what you were working on at the cafe yesterday? some data stuff?"
"uh…, yeah. yeah i was."
kento silently watched this happen and even he was uncomfortable. there was a slight tension in the air. it was missable but apparent enough if you looked for it. he cleared his throat softly, bringing your attention back to him. "how are your parents?" he asked.
"they're good," you replied, smiling, though your voice carried a slight hesitation. "they always ask about you, by the way. mom wanted me to tell you that you're still her favorite."
kento allowed a rare chuckle, shaking his head. "i'm flattered, but i imagine that makes your dad roll his eyes."
"it does." you laughed
"speaking of family," you continued, "my brother is getting discharged from the military soon! and we're planning to have a little get together or something. nothing too crazy, but it'll be our first one together since he left and i know how much he loves you so…" your voice trailed off, hoping that the silence was strong enough to carry your unspoken words
"i understand. of course i'll be there."
kento smiled when he saw you beaming, on the verge of jumping up and down from happiness, and from the corner of your eye, you swear that you saw the corner of a lip curl up from that "ino"
"great—oh shoot—!" you checked the time on your phone and realized that… if you didn't go now, you'd be late. and that professor does not play. you showed up three minutes late to one of his lectures and he basically publicly humiliated you. "i gotta go but text mom and dad about it, okay uncle? bye now! bye ino!"
as you speed walked away, you felt ino's eyes lingering on you. a soft chuckle escaped your lips. takuma ino—you liked the way it sounded
the campus library was unusually quiet for a wednesday night, the usual hum of late-night chatter replaced by the occasional sound of a book being flipped or the muffled footsteps of a librarian making their rounds. you had no plans to be productive tonight; in fact, you'd come here specifically to procrastinate. or, more accurately, to bother someone
your target was easy to spot, tucked away in the far corner of the library like a hermit hiding from civilization. p.f.b.b was hunched over his notebook, one earbud in, one out, the faint sound of rock music drifting in the air around him
you made a beeline for him, sliding into the seat across the table before he could even process what was happening. "fancy seeing you here," you whispered conspiratorially, even though this was his obvious habitat
he didn't even look up, just sighed. "you're aware this is a library, right?"
"and you're aware you're in my study spot, right?" you countered, setting your bag down with an exaggerated thud
finally, his eyes flicked up to meet yours, unimpressed as always. "you… study?" before you could fight back, he continued, "anyways… pretty sure i've been coming here since the semester started, so if anything, this is my study spot."
"well that's too bad for you because i've been coming here since the first day i set foot on this campus," you shot back with a grin, leaning forward on your elbows. "but i'm willing to negotiate. how about we share?"
p.f.b.b. stared at you before shaking his head and returning to his notes. "as long as you don't talk too much."
"me? never."
silence settled between you for a few moments, a fragile truce held together by his focus and your determination not to annoy him too much. but that didn't stop you from sneaking glances at his notes
"why are you studying organic chem?" you asked after a while, squinting at the complicated diagrams on his page. "i thought we were suffering through general chem together."
"because i'm actually trying to graduate," he replied flatly
"well, me too," you said with a dramatic sigh, leaning back in your chair
he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, finally setting his pen down. "if you're not here to study, what are you here for?"
you grinned, pulling a pack of gummy bears out of your bag and sliding them across the table toward him. "to make sure you don't pass out from starvation, obviously."
he looked at the gummy bears, then at you, his expression unreadable. after a beat, he shook his head, a small, reluctant smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "you're weird, you know that?"
"compliments will get you everywhere," you said, plucking a gummy bear from the pack and popping it into your mouth
for the rest of the night, you sat across from him, not saying much but somehow managing to get under his skin with every little comment or movement. oddly enough, seeing him work made you itch to do some studying of your own. and when he finally packed up to leave, muttering something about having an early class, he didn't tell you to leave him alone or call you annoying
instead, he paused just before he walked away, turning back to you with a bemused look
"thanks for the gummy bears."
"anytime— wait! aren't we going the same way…? wait for me!" you scrambled to pack up your pencils and books, stuffing them in your bag, not realizing that p.f.b.b—i mean— ino, was kinda, sorta, maybe, if you had asked him he'd say "no", but from what i saw, he was… waiting for you…
"then move faster, idiot."
you walked through the halls, passing numerous rooms, a small skip in your step. your body froze as you recalled a certain room's number, kento's research lab. walking back to where it was and peeping through the windowed door, you saw that it was… organized chaos. papers and binders were stacked, whiteboards covered in dense equations, and the faint scent of coffee could be smelled from outside the door. looking closer, you could see someone hunched over a desk, scribbling something on a notepad. ino.
you twisted the handle of the door, opening it with a push, "tough work?"
ino looked up from his desk, blinking at you in mild surprise. his hair was slightly disheveled and rid of that beanie, and there was a smudge of something that looked suspiciously like marker on his cheek
"i'm fine," he said, though the dark circles under his eyes told a different story. "really. i've got it handled."
you raised an eyebrow, looking him up and down. "you're drowning in… whatever this is. don't worry about it, i'll just provide extra assistance."
he groaned, leaning back in his chair. "seriously, you don't have to. it's not a lot of work."
the phrase held so much irony considering there were sheets upon sheets of paper, and towers of that. you guessed he realized his small lie once he glanced around the room
ino sighed but didn't argue further, instead gesturing to the mountain of work in front of him. "fine. if you're so eager to help, you can start with that pile over there."
you pulled up a chair beside him, scanning the papers and the spreadsheet open on his laptop. "okay, let's see what we're working with."
as you both settled into the task, the room grew quieter, save for the sound of typing or the rustle of papers
"you're surprisingly good at this," ino said after a while, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye
"surprisingly?"
he winced. "i didn't mean it like that. just… i didn't expect you to pick it up so quickly."
"thanks for the backhanded compliment," you said dryly, but there was a hint of a smile on your lips
he chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "sorry. i meant it as a real compliment. you're making this way easier."
"you're welcome," you said, turning back to the spreadsheet. "but seriously, how have you two been doing this without losing your minds?"
"coffee," he said immediately
you snorted. "yeah, i can tell. your bloodstream is probably ninety percent caffeine at this point."
he smirked, but the teasing in his expression softened into something more genuine. "it's been… a lot. nanami keeps me grounded, though. he's really good at this kind of thing."
"yeah, he is," you said, pausing for a moment before adding, "but so are you."
ino blinked, caught off guard. "me?"
"yes, you," you said, glancing at him. "you're smart, ino. you don't give yourself enough credit."
he looked at you for a moment, his usual demeanor towards you faltering. "thanks," he said softly
the moment lingered longer than either of you expected, the air between you feeling just a bit heavier
the hours passed in a steady rhythm of work and banter sprinkled in, and by the time the sun began to set, the two of you had cleared more than half of the tasks kento had left behind
"see?" you said as you leaned back in your chair. "teamwork makes the dream work."
ino laughed, shaking his head. "alright, fine. you win. maybe having you here wasn't the worst thing."
"don't get too used to it," you teased, grabbing your bag. "next time, i might just let you suffer alone."
he playfully shot you a look while stretching in his chair, "hey, how about i show you around."
"what? are—are you joking?"
he got up and packed his bag with never before seen speed, "yeah. i am."
"you—!"
"follow me."
ino led the way out of the building, his energy contagious despite the long day you both had. the evening air was cool and refreshing, the city humming quietly as the golden glow of the setting sun bathed everything in a warm light
"i know this great spot," he said with a grin as he walked slightly ahead, hands casually stuffed in his jacket pockets. "you've been here for a while, but have you actually seen the good stuff?"
you raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite yourself. "define 'good stuff.'"
he smirked over his shoulder. "you'll see."
as you followed ino down the bustling streets, the city seemed to transform as it got darker. neon lights flickered to life, illuminating the shop windows and casting colorful reflections on the wet pavement from an earlier drizzle. the aroma of street food mingled with the faint scent of rain, creating a vivid tapestry of sights and smells
"so," you began, dodging a biker weaving through the crowd, "what's the first stop on this magical mystery tour of yours? please tell me it's food. i'm starving."
ino grinned, gesturing dramatically toward a food cart that had a line of eager customers. "you, my friend, are about to experience the best takoyaki this city has to offer."
"oh, come on," you teased, falling in step beside him. "isn't that what everyone says about their favorite food cart?"
"don't disrespect taro-san like that," ino shot back, placing a hand over his heart in mock offense. "this man has been perfecting his craft since before i could hold chopsticks."
moments later, you stood together, balancing plates of piping hot takoyaki drizzled with sauce and topped with dancing bonito flakes. ino took a bite, his expression almost reverent. "see? what did i tell you? food of the gods."
you took a bite, and your eyes widened. the crisp shell gave way with a soft crunch, revealing the molten, creamy filling inside. it was so warm it nearly melted on your tongue, a perfect blend of savory depth and a subtle sweetness that made your mouth water instantly. the octopus at the center was tender, just the right amount of chewy, and so fresh it almost seemed to bring a whisper of the ocean with it. the sauce on top was like a burst of fireworks—sweet and tangy, with a smoky undertone that paired flawlessly with the creamy mayo drizzled alongside it
you had to pause for a second after swallowing, just to appreciate it. the warmth lingered in your mouth, and you already knew one bite wouldn't be enough. within seconds the entire thing was gone, but you couldn't give ino the satisfaction of being right
"it was alright i guess." you shrugged, "i suppose you're not as full of it as i thought."
"right…," ino said with a suspicious grin, nudging you lightly with his elbow. "stick with me and i'll make you a connoisseur."
he didn't waste any time bringing you to the next point of interest, grabbing your hand with his and dragging you to a small, secluded alley lined with string lights and small artisan shops. it was beautiful, to say the least
"it's… quieter here."
"yeah," ino agreed, his voice softer now. "this is one of my favorite spots. it's like the city pauses for a second."
you glanced at him, noticing the way his eyes softened as he looked around. "you come here often?"
"used to, back when i needed to think. or when i was avoiding studying," he admitted with a sheepish grin
"you? avoid studying? how unlikely…" you sneakily caught a glance at your still interlocked hands, noticing a small, oddly colored, handmade bracelet around ino's wrist. but it seems you were staring at it for far too long
"oh! sorry!" he stuttered, pulling his hand from yours, and bringing it to his chest. you immediately felt the slight chill of the night but still flashed a bittersweet smile that conveyed something of a don't worry about it. out of the corner of your eye, you saw one of the shops practically twinkling. getting a closer look, your wallet itched once you saw the array of jewelry and hair accessories. it was sorted by color and then by type, gold earrings on the far left and silver necklaces on the far right. but you were inexplicably drawn to one item: a hair clip with four small, white seashells on it
"that one?"
ino's voice next to you made you jump slightly. giving him a small hit on his shoulder, you followed his finger to the item you were just admiring. "yeah, that one. it's really pretty, isn't it?" ino hummed in response, surprised to see you turn away from it and walk down the alley instead
"but…, maybe i'll get it another time."
after a minute or so of window shopping the rest of the stores, ino caught up to you. "next up is the park. you can't say you've really seen the city until you've walked through it at night."
once you got closer, ino pointed at the beautifully lit area in the distance. lanterns illuminated the paths, and the sound of a bubbling fountain echoed softly. children chased each other, their laughter carrying through the crisp air, while couples strolled hand in hand. ino brought you to a bench overlooking a pond, the moonlight reflecting off its surface like a scene from a painting
"alright, i'll give it to you," you said, leaning back and stretching, stomach craving that takoyaki from earlier. "you weren't kidding. this is incredible."
"see?" ino said with a smirk, leaning back beside you. "i'm full of surprises. and speaking of that… here." ino reached into his left pocket, pulling a small item out, and pushing it into your hands
staring down at it, you realized it was the seashell hair pin you were eyeing from earlier. overrun with happiness, you flung your arms around ino, showering him in thank you's. pulling away and on the edge of bouncing in your seat, you slipped it into your hair, looking at ino for validation
"how does it look?"
oh. oh.
she's… beautiful. though, i've always known that…
thanking the cashier and gathering your bags, you made a beeline for the exit. you see, you were trying to make it home as quickly as possible because it was friday and you and your roommates always watched a specific show on friday nights. you guys ordered in and it was just amazing, until nanako said that she was craving your cooking, everyone agreed, and then you somehow lost the four way rock, paper, scissors on who goes to the store to get the ingredients. so here you were, standing under the awning of the nearby grocery store, bags in hand, watching the wall of rain as it drenched the street. the rain that wasn't in the forecast and the kind of downpour that left everyone scrambling for cover
great. just great.
your phone buzzed in your pocket, and you pulled it out to see a text from kento
kento: the rain was unexpected. are you alright?
you sighed and quickly typed back
you: yeah, just stuck waiting for it to stop. don't worry, i'll figure it out
after a couple minutes of you standing and contemplating your next move, a sleek black car pulled up to the curb, and the passenger window rolled down, revealing p.f.b.b.'s grin that even though you've seen about three times, you'd never get used to
"need a ride?" he called out, leaning casually over the center console
you blinked at him, caught off guard. "what are you doing here?"
"i was with nanami when he mentioned you," he said, shrugging. "said you were stranded. figured i'd play the hero."
you tried to cross your arms but the weight of the bags were kind of weighing them down, "play the hero driving kento's car? do you even have your license?"
"hey—," he explained, raising his voice just a bit, "it may be nanami's car but he said i could take it! and yes, i do have my license!"
you rolled your eyes but couldn't help the small smile tugging at your lips. "alright, fine. but what about these?" you gestured to your grocery bags
"pop the trunk," he said, pressing a button on the dash. the trunk lid opened smoothly. "problem solved."
with a sigh, you stepped into the rain long enough to stow your bags before climbing into the passenger seat, shaking droplets off your jacket as you settled in. the interior was warm, the faint scent of leather and air freshener filling the space
"comfy?" he teased as you buckled up
"more than i'd be waiting in that rain," you shot back
he laughed, the sound light and easy, as he pulled back onto the road. the rain drummed steadily against the car, but inside, it was quiet, almost peaceful
"alright, then…, let's go home."
home, huh?
the blue light of your laptop pierced your eyes as you typed the final words of your assignment, and submitted it, chemistry work abandoned at the edge of your desk. as you were looking at it ashamedly, a ping came through your phone
xxx-xxx-xxxx: have you done the writing assignment yet?
you: wrong number
xxx-xxx-xxxx: no. it's p.f.b.b.
you: oh! how did you get my number?
p.f.b.b.: don't worry about that. did you do the assignment?
you: yeah i just finished. why?
p.f.b.b.: can you come over? i need some help with it. in exchange, i'll help you with your chem work that i know you didn't start
you: well since you're offering…
"do you still even like him?" nobara questioned, "before you'd be jumping up for joy."
"yeah, i do," you put your laptop and chemistry work and textbook in your tote, grabbing some snacks from the pantry too, "i'm just not as upfront about it anymore. maybe it's cause we're friends now, but i don't know!"
you slung your tote bag over your shoulder, opening the door to your apartment and saying a quick "i'll be back" to your girls. walking just across the hall and knocking on his door, you barely had time to exhale before it swung open to reveal ino in a hoodie and sweats, his hair slightly tousled like he'd just slipped off that beanie
"right on time," he said with a grin, stepping aside to let you in
"you texted me like two minutes ago—"
"make yourself at home," he interrupted, already moving to clear space for you
his apartment mirrored yours in layout but had its own chaotic charm—textbooks and notes spread across the coffee table, an empty coffee mug sitting precariously on the edge
you dropped your bag and slid onto the couch, pulling out your laptop. "let's see what you've got so far."
ino groaned, flopping down beside you with an exaggerated sigh. "barely anything. writing isn't my thing."
you rolled your eyes, smiling despite yourself. "that's what i'm here for."
the second session, where you both stumbled through the assignment, bickering over comma placement and syntax while munching on the snacks you brought. you teased him for his messy handwriting, and he fired back with jokes about your overuse of sticky notes
the fourth session, where ino finally made good on his promise to help you with chemistry. he sat cross-legged on the floor, explaining concepts in a way that actually made sense while you leaned over his shoulder to read his notes
the sixth session, where the stress of exams had both of you yawning into your notebooks. he brewed coffee—terrible coffee—but the gesture made you smile. you fell asleep on his couch that night, waking up to a blanket draped over you
or that one time he showed up at your door, unannounced, holding a coffee cup in one hand and a thick textbook in the other for an "emergency study session,"
today was no different. you walked over to ino's apartment that he graciously started leaving unlocked around this time—just for you. walking in and greeting him briefly, you sat on his couch, your knees brushing against his as you both hovered over the same textbook as you reviewed chemical equations. the proximity made it hard to focus; you were acutely aware of the way his shoulder brushed yours every time he shifted, and you wondered if he was too
"see?" you said, pointing to a diagram. "like what does that even mean? what does this show me?"
"okay so, this shows esterification. ethanoic acid and ethanol produces ethyl ethanoate and water in the presence of an acid catalyst like sulfuric acid. the reaction begins with the acid protonation of the carbonyl oxygen of the carboxylic acid, making the carbon more electrophilic." he replied, the words falling off his tongue with ease
you glanced up at him, finding his eyes already on you. though the usual playful spark was there, his words went in one ear and out the other, and you felt embarrassed that you didn't understand a word except acid, produces, reaction, and catalyst
neither of you spoke for a long moment. the tension was palpable, the world outside his apartment fading away until it was just the two of you in this bubble of uncertainty and longing
"ino, repeat that for—" you started, but your words were cut off as he leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a kiss so tentative it felt like a question
your breath caught, your mind racing even as your heart leapt. what is happening right now? it was almost an immediate reaction that you kissed him back, the touch lingering just long enough to send your thoughts spiraling before you pulled away
"i—" he started, his expression a mix of surprise and hesitation. "i didn't mean to—"
you shook your head, rising from the couch as you scrambled to gather your things. "i should go."
"wait," he said, standing as if to follow, but you held up a hand to stop him
"i'll… see you later," you murmured, avoiding his gaze as you slipped out the door
the walk across the hall to your apartment felt endless, your heart pounding in your chest. once inside, you leaned against the door, your fingers brushing your lips as you replayed the moment over and over
what the fuck?
the party was in full swing, a cheerful celebration of your brother's long-awaited return. laughter and chatter filled the room, plates of food were passed around, and glasses clinked in endless toasts. you were busy setting a tray of drinks on the counter when you spotted takuma ino standing near the door, looking a little out of place but still managing to charm a small group of your family members and friends with his easygoing smile
your steps faltered, your chest tightening. he hadn't mentioned he'd be here. not that you blamed him—why would he? last night's kiss wasn't a topic either of you seemed ready to breach today. but still, the sight of him caught you completely off guard
turning on your heel, you found kento by the kitchen, nursing a glass of wine. marching up to him, you jabbed a finger in his direction
"why is he here?" you hissed, keeping your voice low
kento raised an eyebrow at you, calm as ever. "he's here because i invited him. your brother wanted to know more about my project. what better way to tell him about it than to bring my research assistant? why?"
you rubbed your temple, biting back a groan. "look, i'm not saying that he can't be here, but… you could've given me a heads-up."
kento's gaze turned suspicious, and his lips twitched into a slight frown. "why would you need a heads-up? haven't i introduced you two?"
you felt heat rising to your cheeks, the embarrassment seeping into your voice as you fumbled for an explanation. "well, yeah, formally, but he and i—we—we're—he and i—NO!"
kento stared at you, unblinking, while you buried your face in your hands, muttering curses under your breath. his frown deepened, and you could practically feel his uncle intuition kicking in
"wait," he said slowly, his tone sharpening. "what do you mean, 'he and i'?"
"nothing!" you snapped, dropping your hands, "i meant nothing. just—just forget i said anything."
kento's expression didn't waver. he studied you for a moment longer before sighing and shaking his head. "whatever you're freaking out about will pass. ino's a good guy."
"yeah, i know," you muttered under your breath, glancing back toward ino, who was now engaged in a conversation with your brother. his laugh echoed across the room, and you couldn't help the flutter of nervous energy it sent through you
as the party continued in full swing, you moved around the room, trying to keep busy—refilling snacks, grabbing empty plates, and avoiding ino's gaze whenever your paths seemed to almost cross
you weren't sure how long you could keep this up. every time his laughter reached your ears or you caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of your eye, your heart seemed to skip a beat. the kiss from last night lingered in the back of your mind, a constant, unspoken weight
you had just finished setting down a fresh tray of drinks when you heard a voice behind you
"hey."
you froze, recognizing it immediately. slowly turning around, you found ino standing there, his hands holding a can of soda; they were shaking. his usual smile was softer now, almost nervous
"can we talk?" he asked, his voice low enough that no one else could hear over the party noise
your heart sank and leaped at the same time, "uh, sure. now?"
he nodded. "yeah. just for a minute. outside?"
you hesitated, glancing around the room. kento was chatting with your brother near the couch, and the rest of the guests were engrossed in their own conversations. no one would miss you for a few minutes
"okay," you said finally, your voice quieter than you intended
ino led the way to the front door, holding it open for you before stepping out into the cool night air. the silence stretched as you stood there, arms crossed against the slight chill. ino rubbed the back of his neck, clearly searching for the right words
"so," he started, his tone careful, "i uh… figured it was probably a bad idea to bring this up inside. with, you know, everyone around."
you nodded, unsure of where he was going with this. "probably."
he let out a small breath, finally meeting your eyes. "about last night…"
your stomach flipped. of course, he'd bring it up. you'd been bracing for this moment all day, but now that it was here, you didn't know what to say
"look," he continued, "i don't want to make things weird between us. especially not with nanami, or your family, or—"
"it's not weird," you interrupted, surprising even yourself. "at least, it doesn't have to be."
his brows lifted slightly, a flicker of hope in his expression. "really? because i was worried i'd screwed things up."
"you didn't," you said quickly. "it's just… unexpected."
ino nodded, stepping closer. his voice softened, almost hesitant. "i don't regret it, you know. the kiss. but if you're not okay with it, i'll back off. no questions asked."
the sincerity in his tone made your chest ache. you looked up at him, taking in the way his usually confident demeanor seemed so tentative now
"i didn't say i wasn't okay with it," you murmured, barely louder than a whisper. "believe it or not, but i've been flirting with you for a while now."
ino blinked at you, his brows knitting together in confusion. "wait… what?"
you tilted your head, giving him a look that said seriously? "flirting, ino. you know, dropping hints, teasing, trying to get you to notice me?"
he stared at you, his lips parting slightly as if the realization was slowly dawning on him. "you're kidding."
you let out a soft laugh, part amused and part exasperated. "no, i'm not kidding. you're telling me you didn't pick up on any of it? not even when i started making excuses to see you more?"
ino's hand went to the back of his neck, rubbing it in that familiar sheepish way. "i thought you were just being nice! like, nanami-level nice."
you raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. "nanami-level nice? ino, i bought you coffee with your weirdly specific order three times in one week. kento would never do that."
he opened his mouth, then closed it, a look of genuine shock crossing his face. "wait… that was flirting?"
"yes," you said with a small laugh. "and the time i told you your new haircut made you look good? or when i made sure there was always a snack for you at kento's? flirting, ino."
ino's jaw dropped slightly, his hands falling to his sides as he processed your words. "oh, my god. i'm the dumbest guy alive."
"well… maybe," you said, trying not to laugh at his adorably stunned expression
"i am," he insisted, his voice rising slightly in disbelief. "you've been into me this whole time, and i've been walking around like an idiot, completely missing it."
you couldn't help but laugh now, the sound easing the tension between you. "well, now you know."
he took off his beanie and ran a hand through his hair, still looking flustered but with a hint of something softer in his eyes. "yeah. now i know."
for a moment, neither of you spoke, the quiet night stretching around you. then, almost shyly, ino glanced at you again. "so… does this mean i can kiss you again? like, now that i'm finally catching up and all."
you smiled, warmth blooming in your chest. "i think that depends. are you going to keep being oblivious, or are you going to start paying attention?"
he grinned, his usual confidence flickering back. "oh, i'm paying attention now. promise."
before you could respond, he stepped closer, his hand brushing against yours as his gaze met yours. slowly, he leaned in, his lips expecting to meet yours in a kiss that was as sweet as it was certain, but… instead they met your pointer finger
"do you hear that? i think someones calling for me." you walked back into the house, leaving ino to wallow in his self-inflicted embarrassment for a while
the convenience store's fluorescent lights buzzed softly above the aisles, casting a harsh glow on shelves stocked with instant noodles, snacks, and cheap energy drinks. you and ino—or, as he let you call him in private, takuma—had wandered in after a long evening of hanging out at his apartment, the kind of night where laughter and teasing filled the silence
takuma leaned against the refrigerator door, his black beanie pushed back enough to reveal a few strands of his messy hair. he squinted at the drink selection like it held the answers to life's greatest mysteries
"you've been staring at that for a full minute," you teased, sliding up beside him. "it's not that deep. just grab the green tea like you always do."
he smirked without looking at you. "and miss out on your expert critique of my choices? never."
you reached past him to grab a bottle of sparkling water, your shoulder brushing his arm. it wasn't much, just a small touch, but it was enough to make the air between you shift. for a second, it felt like the buzzing of the fluorescent lights got louder, the hum filling the space where words should be
he cleared his throat, stepping back just slightly. "you always drink that fizzy stuff. isn't it just soda pretending to be fancy?"
"it's called having taste," you corrected, placing it in your basket
"right. taste," he said, rolling his eyes but smiling anyway
as the two of you wandered through the aisles, the quiet of the late hour settled over you, broken only by the occasional sound of a cashier scanning items. you found yourself in front of the snack section, takuma trailing behind you with his hands shoved into his jacket pockets
"you want anything?" you asked, holding up a bag of chips
"nah, i'm good," he said, but his eyes lingered on the pack of pocky in your hand
you smirked, tossing it into your basket. "liar. i'll grab it for you. consider it a thank you for giving back that hoodie you stole last week."
"i didn't steal it," he argued, though his tone was more defensive than adamant
"oh, so it just walked out of my closet on its own? how did you even get in?"
he scratched the back of his neck, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, "mimiko let me in… and… it's comfortable."
you grinned, but decided to let it go. instead, you nudged him lightly with your elbow as you headed toward the counter. "next time, just ask. i might even let you keep it."
he followed you in silence, but when you glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, you caught the faintest hint of pink on his ears
after paying for your haul, you stepped outside into the crisp night air. the streets were quiet, the kind of stillness that felt rare in the city. takuma walked beside you, the pocky in his hand already opened
"you're eating that now?" you asked, digging through the bag for that sparkling water of yours
"why not?" he said around the stick in his mouth, offering you the box
you took one, the chocolate coating melting slightly against your lips. for a moment, the two of you just walked in comfortable silence, the tension from earlier still lingering but softer now, like a thread pulling you closer without snapping
"thanks," he said suddenly, his voice quiet
"for what?" you asked, glancing at him
he shrugged, not meeting your eyes. "i don't know."
"he knew. he definitely knew," you insisted, gesturing wildly as you paced the living room
mimiko tilted her head thoughtfully. "but if he knew, why wouldn't he just say something?"
nanako smirked. "maybe he's waiting for you to say something first. or maybe he's just an idiot who can't read the room."
nobara clicked her tongue. "i mean, the guy's not exactly subtle. pretending he needs help with writing assignments? clearing his schedule to go grocery shopping with you so that you never have to carry the bags in by yourself? and don't even get me started on how he looks at you when you're not paying attention."
you threw up your hands, exasperated. "what am i supposed to do, just march up to him and demand he explain himself?"
"yes," they chorused
"ugh!" you groaned, grabbing your bag and stomping toward your room. "i don't wanna do this anymore!"
their laughter followed you down the hall, but your irritation evaporated the moment you stepped inside. on your desk, there was a letter
your name was scrawled across the front in unmistakable handwriting. your breath caught as you picked it up, hands trembling slightly as you unfolded the paper. the words inside were written with care, each line pulling at your heart:
to you, the one who's always on my mind,
i've started and restarted this letter more times than i can count, and even now, i'm not sure if i've found the right words. how do you tell someone that they've completely changed the way you see the world? that their laugh is the best sound you've ever heard, or that their smile makes even the worst days feel a little brighter?
i've never been good at this—putting my feelings into words—but for you, i'll try. because you deserve to know how incredible you are, even if i can't say it as smoothly as i'd like.
you have this way of making everything feel easier, lighter, just by being yourself. and it's not just the big things, like how you help me with work or how you always know exactly what to say when i'm frustrated. it's the little things too. like how you hum under your breath when you're focused, how you tilt your head when you're confused, how you always manage to start an argument over the stupidest of topics, how you light up when you talk about something you love. it's those little things that make me fall harder for you every day.
i don't know when it started—maybe it was the late nights we spent working together, or maybe it was how you didn't let me quit when things felt impossible. but now i don't think i want to stop. you make me want to be better, just so i can be someone worthy of being by your side. and maybe i'm not saying this the right way, but i hope you understand what i mean.
i don't know what you'll do with this letter, and maybe i'm an idiot for writing it (and asking mimiko to put it on your desk for me), but if nothing else, i just needed you to know.
yours (if you want me to be),
p.f.b.b.
your chest tightened, emotions flooding through you as you reread the letter. before you could realize it, you were across the hall, in front of takuma's door
you knocked on it and pushed it open without waiting for a response. "takuma—"
he was standing in the kitchen, and your eyes immediately caught the bouquet of your favorite flowers on the counter. the vibrant blooms were arranged with care, their familiar scent wafting through the room
takuma turned, his face a mix of surprise and panic. "oh. uh… hey."
"you're unbelievable," you said, holding up the letter, trying to fight back your smile
his ears turned red as he scratched the back of his neck. "so, you found that."
"takuma, what is this?" you gestured to the flowers and the letter, your voice a mix of exasperation and something softer
he hesitated, looking uncharacteristically shy. "i… i wanted to tell you how i feel, but every time i try, i just… i mess it up. so, i thought maybe this would be easier."
you stared at him, your heart pounding. "and the flowers?"
"i thought they'd make you smile," he said simply, stepping closer. "do they?"
you felt your lips twitch despite yourself. "they do."
his shoulders relaxed slightly, but the tension between you only seemed to grow. his voice dropped, softer now. "i meant every word in that letter. i did."
your breath hitched, and before you could stop yourself, you blurted, "why didn't you tell me sooner? i've been…" you trailed off, shaking your head
"been what?" he pressed, his eyes searching yours.
"waiting," you admitted. "i've been waiting for you to say something since the party. anything."
takuma stepped closer, his hand brushing against yours. "i'm saying it now," he murmured. "i care about you. a lot. more than i probably should. and if i'm being honest, you terrify me a little because of how much i feel when i'm around you."
your heart twisted at his words, and before your mind could find a reason to say no, you leaned up, capturing his lips in a kiss. it was hesitant at first, soft and searching, but when his arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer, the world seemed to melt away
when you pulled back, both of you were breathless, his forehead resting against yours
"i think we should date," he said, a small smile playing on his lips
you laughed softly, your nerves giving way to warmth. "i think we should too."
his grin widened, but before the moment could get too serious, he quipped, "does this mean i get to steal your clothes now?"
you smacked his arm playfully. "i'm pretty sure it's supposed to be the other way around."
"hey…, what does p.f.b.b. stand for?"
"mmm," you hummed, looking at your… boyfriend. "don't worry about it."
jjk taglist
@blendingcaramal @gzchaos @theamazingrain @woah-girlz @voloslobotomyservice
@kyozvy @obessionofagrl @bubybubsters @sugurusbaobei @raindropsonrwses
@c-moon20-12 @saltynanobeanie @theamazingrain @synthiiiiis @ghostlyluminarycloud
@poopyyy @supernatrualqueen @bxrbie-jadeee @laitifly @babysoo-meu
@cheesecake95 @strawberry-cherrypie @makeshiftproject @magiamad0ka @ncitygreen
@mayyhaps @oniondrip @cloudy-yyy @definitely-not-leena @kidd3ath
@atigerandabear @russianremy @ohnoitsamistakee18 @ivy-vivii @ourfinalisation
@1ndee @yourhornysister @ancientimes @cupcaketeddybehr @tomikixd
@e-dollly @ozdramaqueen @nymphsdomain @beeksyurr @colorcode
@baekhyunsbestie @vorfreudevortex @leuriss @xaithings @corvid007
#— ❀ rieamena writes!#rieamena#riea#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk ino#ino x reader#ino x black reader#jjk x black reader#ino fluff#ino takuma#takuma ino#takuma ino x reader#takuma ino x black reader#ino x you#takuma ino fluff#ino hcs#ino takuma x reader#ino smut#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu ino#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujusu kaisen x black reader#jujutsu kaisen imagines#jujutsu kaisen ino#jjk ino takuma#jjk ino x reader#ino takuma fluff#ino takuma jjk#i finally did it chat
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lil jon things i am obsessed with/think are hilarious in the order they occurred to me at 3 am
-spends the first book telling anyone who will listen that he’s Not Afraid To Die and then a wight shoves its whole hand down his throat and he’s like wow that was actually extremely scary and never says that shit again
-always got little Things he says to himself but they’re all awful. very bad affirmation game no wonder morale is low
-“did lord eddard father you on a fish wife”
-the doubts that plague me can’t catch me if i just keep making Decisions!!! let’s hear it for Decisions!!!!
-arguably contender for top woman respecter but batting absolute zero at successfully comforting crying women. unless you consider “making her mad at you instead of upset” a success
-i’m not a wolf! i’m not a wolf!! i’m not a wolf!!! while warging like almost constantly with zero control. babe i don’t think your affirmations are working you’re experiencing non consensual smells at an alarming rate
-i wish mormont was my dad wait no i wish benjen was my dad wait no i wish qhorin was my dad wait no i wish donal noye was my dad. will someone be my dad please i just keep making decisions
-constantly having Agonies over ethical decision making while the rest of the continent hasn’t even really invented the concept of ethics yet? on the verge of a nervous breakdown due to his constant Agonies
-related: love is the death of duty but having strong ethical convictions/clear moral vision is also kind of the death of duty oops! aemon didn’t warn you about that one!
-stannis wants to davosify this kid mega bad
-“jon felt like he was fifteen again” (said when he’s literally sixteen)
-has a terrible violence in his heart but it’s kind of the least of his problems tbh. like yeah my fire and blood levels are a little elevated but i’ve got paperwork i need to take care of
-RUNNING DOWN THE TABLE AT YOU WITH A KNIFE!!!!!
-last of the giants fixation. god he’s gonna be so mad when he comes back and wun wun is dead. this one isn’t hilarious it’s deeply moving and endearing
-an eagle almost rips his eye out and he’s like well i guess i have no choice but to have sex with ygritte at least one dozen times. it’s a tough job but someone’s gotta do it
-just a crazy amount of anime main character pre-loaded swag (bastard of winterfell skin changer with an albino direwolf and a cool sword which he can really SWANG and cool facial scars etc etc) and is actively working against it. rolled super high on charisma and is trying to balance it out by being as much of a boring fuddy duddy as he possibly can. the devil works hard (at making me cool) but i work harder (at being very uncool). it is an honorable thing to be swagless by choice…….
-pretty sure he actively enjoys saying no to people. just for love of the game (the game is being disagreeable). very capricorn coded. likely brushes his teeth in the shower.
-REMEMBER WE KNOW WHERE YOU SLEEP 😈
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Imma say something about this actually.
If I see any of you chuckle fucks harass anyone (Tommy fans, Dream fans, Tubbo fans, Dsmp fans, Ex fans of anyone, etc) over this drama, I will lose my cool.
No matter what you think, harassing each other, sending death threats, making jokes about someone raping your targets, etc is not ok. The shit that I have seen already said by assholes is uncool and horrible. Remember that we don’t know any of these people! None of them are worth sending a goddamn death threat or insulting someone over!
I have best friends in every group above and many more so I will consider it an insult to me personally if I see any of my friends, no matter who they support, get harassed.
I love all of my friends and I am currently feeling torn about everything. But what I don’t feel torn about is this.
This situation is a shit situation in general.
If you condone insulting anyone just cause you don’t agree with them on this, block me.
Don’t make this harder on anyone by being a massive dick. We are all people who love other people’s content at the end of the day. No one deserves that shit.
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simmer down
billy hargrove x f!reader
masterlist • requests are open! • read on ao3
summary: being tommy hagan’s sister had it’s perks, but when the new kid from California catches your attention, it seems like more of a curse than a good thing
warnings: 18+ minors dni, Steve x Reader, underage drinking, partying, smut, p in v, angst, Billy is a mystery, Steve/Nancy, slow burn, forbidden romance
Being Tommy Hagan’s sister had its advantages. Your freshman year of high school, you had a guaranteed spot with the cool kids and an invite to every party. Tommy wasn’t protective by any means. You two were buddies, you and Carol were buddies and of course, you and Steve Harrington were buddies. Freshman year was a blur, until Nancy ripped Steve away from the group. Still, the three of you were determined to keep the good times rolling. Sure, you spent every single Saturday, Sunday and Monday hungover but it was worth it. You think.
Maybe you didn’t remember the parties very well but hell, you knew you’d had fun. Plus, you were lucky enough to lose your virginity to the King on your fifteenth birthday and even if he pretended you didn’t exist once he started dating Nancy, it was worth it. Okay, so you weren’t totally over Steve but you were coping just fine. Carol didn’t let you mope for long. There were too many parties to go to.
Then one day, Steve Harrington is pushed to the very back door of your mind. Perched on your brother’s car, sharing a cigarette with him and his girlfriend, a pretty blue Camaro whips through the parking lot and slides into the parking spot across from you. A small, angry redhead bolts out, slamming the door and zips up to the middle school on a skateboard. Every head in the parking lot is turned to the muscle car and the gorgeous, denim-clad, mulleted blonde motherfucker. He takes your breath away. Takes Tommy and Carol’s breath away. The guys dripping in cool. Not another person like him has stepped foot in this midwestern hell hole. The three of you can’t wait to sink your claws in him. He flicks his cigarette away, a small hint of a smirk curling his lips and your eyes follow the Marlboro as it tumbles to the ground. The fucking guy didn’t even smoke half of it. The nicotine fiend in you is tempted to snatch it up, but that’s like, super uncool.
You watch as Tina and her girls eyes linger on the stranger, practically salivating at the way his ass looks in his jeans. It must take at least ten minutes for the fucker to pull his pants up.
“Who the hell is that?” Carol wonders aloud for the group.
“One bitchin’ dude,” Tommy scoffs, an impressed tilt to his voice.
;;;
Tommy moves fast. You know this. He had an easy way about him, friendly even though he was the biggest asshole you knew. That blue Camaro is parked on the curb in front of your house. Your parents are outside, doing the yard work necessary to prepare for the cold front sweeping in. Your whole life was spent in Hawkins so you know nothing else but god, do you yearn for year long summers.
You were eager to listen to the new record you’d just bought. A quick wave to your parents and you’re opening the front door, flooded with the sound of Metallica’s The Four Horsemen. Tommy’s pulled out his only metal album to impress the new kid. The feeling in your gut isn’t new. You used to get the same excited feeling whenever Steve was over. However, this was different because Steve knew you. He watched you grow up. You’d known him since you were little. This new guy hasn’t played Barbie’s with you from the age eight to twelve.
You take a deep breath before heading towards Tommy’s room, leaning against the doorframe. Tommy’s head banging obnoxiously, Carol is checking her nails looking bored and the blonde boy is nodding his head along to the bass line. He’s got a cigarette pinched to between his fingers and as he’s bringing the filter to his lips, he sees you.
He takes a drag, smirks and says, “Hey.”
You’ve never loved your brothers ability to make friends more.
“Hi,” you try to say in the coolest way you can.
Tommy pauses his thrashing and motions to you, “Oh, Billy! This is my sister.”
“Nice to meet you, Tommy’s sister,” he drawls.
You tell him your name, awkwardly lingering in the doorway before Carol’s tugging you inside.
“Whatcha got in the bag?” Billy asks, fingers pressing to the brown paper.
You swallow, “Uh, just a record.”
“Which one?”
You pull out the cellophane wrapped vinyl, displaying the copy of Out of the Cellar by Ratt you’d just excitedly purchased with your allowance.
“Oh, fuck yeah! Atta girl,” he cheers as he snatches it out of your hand.
The praise causes a flutter downstairs. Five minutes into meeting this fucking guy and you’re already a puddle. The excitement at impressing him is unmatched.
Billy shimmies around you, places a strong hand on your hip as he passes to stop the Metallica record and replace it with your new one. You plop down on the floor next to Carol, eyes drawing back up to Billy as he turns the volume up, cigarette hanging between his lips. He bobs his head, his earring dangling against his wispy curls and you don’t like feeling this arousal while in the same room as your brother and his girlfriend.
“Did you see Steve with the princess today? Ugh, gag me with a spoon,” Carol nudges your knee while mimics gagging herself.
Billy snorts, “What’s the deal with that guy? People kept telling me I was gonna be the new King, whatever the fuck that means.”
Tommy chimes in, “He used to be the King. We were good buddies until he started sticking his dick in the priss.”
“Steve’s nice,” you shrug. Only Carol knows what happened between the two of you and you’d sworn her to secrecy, too embarrassed to let your brother know you’d fallen for his best friend. She gives you a pointed look before rolling her eyes.
“He used to be cool, now he’s nice,” Tommy deflects, wiggling his fingers for emphasis. He pulls a beer of the sixer and tosses it to you, which you fumble to catch.
You tap your nail on the tap, trying your best to rid the memories of Steve kissing you late at night from your head. You know if you glance over to Billy, they’ll dissipate but then you’ll be imagining kissing him and you don’t want that either.
“So where’d you move from?” you ask, not looking up from the beer.
Billy sits next to you with the thud, his knee knocking yours which absolutely does not shoot heat to between your legs. He lifts his can to you, indicating he’d like to cheers you. Sometimes Tommy’s friends did things like this with you and while he wasn’t protective of you, he made you promise that friends were out of the question. You could not hook up with any of them. Acquaintances were fine and while Billy was only that right now, you know Tommy wanted to be good buddies with him so you were awaiting the conversation. You were getting ahead of yourself. A cheers does not mean Billy’s attracted to you.
“California,” he replies as you clink aluminum cans. “Much better than this shithole.”
“You’re telling me,” Carol whines, “I fucking hate this place.”
Billy drops his cigarette in the empty beer can sitting in the middle of the floor, apparently the designated ashtray. He leans his head back to look at you, “What’s there to do here?”
You feel shy under his gaze, almost choking on your swig of beer once your eyes meet his. You clear your throat and swallow hard, “Uh, parties, mostly. Hang out in the woods. Go to convenience stores.”
“Ah. I expected more hick shit. Ya know, tipping cows, shooting guns, kissing cousins,” Billy chuckles, biting his lip as his eyes dart between your brother and his girlfriend.
“Carol knows about kissing cousins,” Tommy sneers, throwing his girlfriend under the bus.
“Do you have to tell everyone?” she hurls a rolled up sock at him. She turns to Billy, “He’s exaggerating. We’re not even blood related.”
Billy laughs, a cackle that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up. You can’t help but giggle. You’d heard the story a million times. Carol was at a family reunion and didn’t even realize the guy was a distant cousin. However, shit, it’s a family reunion. Who’s trying to get their rocks off at a family reunion?
“You guys smoke grass?” Billy changes the subject and the three of you nod in unison. “Know where I can get some?”
“Eddie “The Freak” Munson,” Tommy tells him, “I think I have some, though. Hold you over in the meantime.” He gets up and sifts through his sock drawer, returning with a tied off ziploc bag to hand to Billy.
“And now,” Billy takes it and shoves it in his pocket, “We’re best buds.”
Tommy beams at the declaration. And with those words, Billy Hargrove has just become verboten. Damn it.
Tommy tells you as much when Billy leaves, rattling off about his dad being an asshole and he’s got to get home before he does.
“I saw those eyes,” Tommy raises a scolding finger at you, “Don’t even try it. He’s too cool.”
“Aw, Tommy,” Carol pouts, “Let her have some fun.”
“No,” you raise your hands defensively, “You didn’t see any eyes. I don’t even think he’s cute.”
Tommy scoffs, “Yeah, right. Even I think the guy is hot.”
Carol raises an eyebrow, “You going queer on me, big boy?”
“Me? Queer?” Tommy laughs, “Let me show you how untrue that is.”
“Okay, ew, I’m leaving,” you push yourself off the ground and run out of the room, closing the door behind you.
;;;
“Does Tina throw bitchin’ parties?” Billy asks you, taking a drag off his cigarette before passing it.
You take it and try to ignore the tingling feeling on your lips as you take a hit. You’re leaning against the trunk of his Camaro, Carol and Tommy are nearby but too busy making out to listen to the conversation.
“I guess?” you reply, “All the parties here kind of bleed together. They’re fun and all, just… the same thing.”
Billy looks over to your brother with his tongue down Carol’s throat, “They do that all the time, huh?”
“Yeah, you’ll get used to it,” you shrug.
“What about you?” he turns slightly towards you, “Why don’t you have a boyfriend?”
You can feel the way your cheeks redden, “I don’t know. No one’s really caught my attention, I guess.”
“Is he protective?”
You shake your head, “No, the opposite. Tommy doesn’t give a shit what I do. I just haven’t met anyone I like in that way.”
“Yeah,” Billy muses, “I know the feeling.”
That catches your attention. Every girl at Hawkin’s High is throwing themselves at him but not a single one special enough to tickle his fancy. You included.
“I’m young, anyways,” you deflect, “I have plenty of time to find the man of my dreams.”
“Oh, yeah?” Billy digs his canine into his lower lip, “What’s the motherfucker you’ve dreamed up like?”
You, you don’t say. “Oh, I don’t know!”
“You’ve thought about it. Is he nice, like King Steve?” Billy raises his eyebrows, “Is he a freak like Munson?”
No, he’s blonde with a mullet and pretty eyelashes.
“He hasn’t made himself known yet,” you urge, “Maybe he’s a millionaire, maybe he’s a rockstar.”
“You want Vince Neil?” he knocks he elbow into yours.
“I wouldn’t mind,” you shrug.
Billy cackles, “All you chicks are the same.”
You scoff, “Oh and guys aren’t? Like you’re not pining over Lita Ford.”
“Nah,” he laughs, “Not my thing.”
“What is your thing then?” you ask, eyes meeting briefly before you can’t handle the heat of them. Billy’s eyes are too pretty. The bluest you’ve ever seen.
“Someone real,” he says, sincerely and it tugs your heartstrings.
“Billy, the romantic,” you tease, shoving your hands in your pocket.
“Far from it, sweetheart,” he pats your shoulder before pushing himself off the bumper and heading into the building as the bell rings.
Sweetheart drips down your throat and curls around your heart.
;;;
It’s not much of a costume. It’s a short skirt, fishnets and a too tight top. You can say you’re Madonna but how many girls are going as Madonna. You just want to look hot. Want Billy to look at you like you’re more than Tommy’s little sister. Like you’re some video vixen and he just cannot keep his hands to himself. It’s a flourishing thought that you push deep down. Tommy can’t control you but you think of the conversation you’d hand the day before. Billy isn’t into you. He had the opportunity to say something and he didn’t. And one thing you’ve learned about boys your age is if they want it, they’ll make it known.
“Are you ready yet?” Carol’s asking as she peers into your bedroom. You scan her outfit up and down, you think maybe she’s channeling Madonna as well but you can’t pin exactly what she’s dressed as.
You wipe the corner of your mouth, fixing the smeared lipstick.
“Yeah, just about,” you mumble, reapplying your mascara.
“Billy’s meeting us there,” she sings, grinning wide at you in the mirror.
You roll your eyes, “Carol, he’s off limits and even if he wasn’t, I don’t like Billy like that.”
“Sure,” she purrs, slapping the doorframe, “Vamoose, pretty girl. I wanna get wasted.”
Tommy’s a bad driver. He was also drinking before he left so he’s even worse, by the time you get to the party you feel like you’ve already got the spins. You hold onto Carol’s wrist to ground yourself and Billy’s rushing up behind the two of you.
“Boo!” he shouts, pressing a hand to your lower back.
Carol shrieks but you’d seen him coming. He wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling the two of you two his chest. He reeks of whiskey and Marlboro Reds. Seems like Billy had a bit of pregaming himself.
“Hi, Billy,” the two of you sing in unison.
Tommy barrels around the car, running up from behind to jump onto Billy’s back which causes all of you to tumble to the ground. Carol screams, scolding Tommy about ruining her hair but you’re distracted by the laugh erupting from Billy, his lips so close to your ear you can feel his breath fanning against it. It makes you tingle all over and you desperately want to grab him and pull him closer, want to press your lips to his in a hungry kiss. Then it’s gone, he’s up from the ground with Tommy pulling him towards the keg and Carol’s reaching her hand down to you.
You stumble along with her and when you’re reaching the keg, Billy’s pumping it and filling cups for you and Carol.
“You’ve got to beat Steve’s record, Billy! Come on,” Tommy urges his friend, hands clasped tight around his shoulders.
You stand over by Carol and Tina, watching the way the brunette fucks Billy with her eyes. A pang of jealousy surges through your stomach but you chug from the red Solo cup to drown it out. You sway along with the Motley Crüe song, unable to stop your eyes from scanning the crowd for familiar chestnut hair and brown eyes. Carol must notice because she grabs your face and turns it to look at Billy. She wants you to get over Steve just as badly as you do. You notice Billy’s costume, you think he’s going for terminator but it’s laid back. An homage rather than a costume. His abs look nice, you imagine what they must feel like. Carol’s a good friend.
They lift Billy up, he bites around the tap and makes eye contact you for a brief second before beer is flooding into your mouth. He easily beats Steve’s record. Seems like he could’ve gone longer but the second he beats it, they’re pulling him down. He spits the foam out, beer dripping down his chin to his chest and it’s… a sight. They funnel inside but you stick by Carol.
“God, he’s so yummy,” Tina gushes, turning to you and Carol.
Carol agrees excitedly, winks at you and it doesn’t go unnoticed by Tina.
“What? Did you call dibs already?”
“God, no,” you say, a little too defensively. “I just have eyes and Carol wants to live vicariously through me. It’s not happening.”
“Well, I’m definitely not holding back,” Tina quips.
You imagine the two of you as cats, tails high and backs arched, ready to pounce.
“Go for it,” you shrug, holding your beer close to your chest.
You retreat first, heading inside in search of a better time. A spiked punch is in your future. It’s only slightly dampened when you see Nancy downing cup after cup in the kitchen, Steve upset and asking her to cool it. He doesn’t even notice your presence and that’s totally fine. You’re a fly on the wall like you usually are around him. Steve reaches for her cup again and they struggle for power until the force of their hands pulls the cup back and spills the sticky red punch all over her white sweater. Everyone reacts in shock and you have to still your mouth from the smile threatening against your lips as you quickly avert your attention.
When they flutter away, you copy Nancy. Downing as many cups as you can before you start to feel numb. Seeing Steve was a shock to your system. All prior feelings rush to the forefront of your brain and you want to find him, pull him into a empty bedroom and kiss him from head to toe. It’s a shame when you see him and Nancy lock themselves away in a bathroom. You linger, clutching your drink to your chest as you watch drunk teenagers dance the night away. Nancy doesn’t deserve Steve. He shouldn’t have to change to be with her. You liked Steve the way he was.
Steve opens the door and slams it behind him, he pushes passed out, shoulders colliding and when he turns to look at you, you notice tears in his eyes. The brunette is quick to swivel back around, stomping outside and you wonder what in the hell just happened in there. Half of you is tempted to follow him outside, offer comfort in whatever way you can but then you feel large, strong hands wrap around your waist. You tilt your head back to see Billy standing behind you with a drunk smile plastered on his face, his eyes are tinted red like he’s been smoking more than cigarettes.
He leans down, lips close to your ear so he can whisper, “Why are you hiding from us?”
“Hiding? I’m not hiding,” you argue, lifting your cup to explain further, “Where is everyone?”
“Backyard,” he smirks, releasing his grip and stumbling towards the sliding glass door.
He turns his head briefly to make sure you’re following him.
Tina’s backyard is trashed. You can’t imagine what the cleanup is going to be like tomorrow. As soon as you step out the door, Billy grabs your hips again and urges you to the left. You look down and see what looks like five smashed beer bottles, right outside the door. You mumble a thank you before wiggling out of his grip. The last thing you need is for Tommy to see it. The blonde guides you over to the group and you collapse down next to your brother and Carol.
“Steve and Nancy just got in a fight,” you tell them before bringing your cup to your lips.
Carol raises her eyebrows and leans closer, giving you a look you know all too well. You quickly shake your head, slouching your shoulders and trying to sink away from her gaze. Tommy lets out a cackle, leaning his body back with it.
“We heard, he threw punch on her?”
“Well, no, he didn’t throw it on her, it just spilled,” you explain, watching in your peripheral how Tina leans her body against Billy’s and whispers in his ear. Immediately, your stomach turns but you ignore it. There’s no way you could be jealous, you don’t even know the guy yet and you’re going to make sure you don’t stew on how attractive he is. You know how mad Tommy will be and besides, your brother isn’t exactly loyal to you. You imagine if you did make a move on Billy and he rejected you, Tommy wouldn’t stop hanging out with him. Or god forbid, he doesn’t reject you but instead breaks your heart and Tommy would still pick Billy’s side. You know this about your brother.
“But they went into the bathroom and I guess argued, because Steve came storming out and he looked like he was crying,” you continue, picking at a loose thread on your skirt.
Tommy snorts, “I knew they wouldn’t last long.”
Carol nods along with him, “She’s too prissy for Steve. I bet the argument was something stupid too.”
“Maybe,” you shrug, allowing yourself to turn slightly and just in time to catch Tina shoving her tongue down Billy’s throat. You’re quick to turn back to your brother and Carol.
“You guys wanna leave soon?” Carol asks, you know she’s trying to be casual but only asking to save you the displeasure of watching Billy and Tina make out for the rest of the night.
“Yeah, I’m pretty over it,” you admit, stretching your arms up.
Tommy scoffs, “You guys are so boring. It’s still early.”
It is, you don’t even feel drunk yet but you are bored and too many unpleasant feelings are swirling around you. If you get any more alcohol in you, you’re libel to throw yourself at Steve, or worse, Billy.
“This party kind of blows, though,” Carol argues and wraps her arms around Tommy, whispering something in his ear. Whatever she said has him grinning and jumping to his feet. You’d rather not know.
;;;
You’re sitting in study hall, trying to stay awake when a note lands on your desk. You turn and see Steve failing at trying to look innocent, he fake coughs in his hand while stretching his opposite arm up and then back down. His eyes meet yours briefly and he quickly looks away, a hint of smile on his lips. You unfold the note and see Steve’s messy handwriting scrawled lopsided on the top of the page.
Wanna listen to my Abba record?
You stare at it a little dumbfounded, because it was an inside joke between the two of you. It was his lame way of trying to get you alone at one of his parties. It was only the second time you guys had ever messed around and as your relationship continued, it became something Steve would say just to make you blush or laugh. Worse, though, it turned into a code for sneaking away to hook up. His fight with Nancy must’ve been more serious than you thought. This was Steve’s olive branch, and it was sleazy but it was also romantic, unfortunately.
You write back in neat, straight handwriting, Right here in study hall?
You carefully slide the paper onto his desk and turn back to your textbook. From the corner of your eye, you see Steve grinning wide as he reads what you’ve wrote before furiously writing and handing it back.
Is that a yes?
It’s a maybe. I don’t think Mr. Delfin would appreciate it.
Fair enough. The albums at my house anyway. After school then?
You chew on your bottom lip. It would be very easy to fall back into this but you have plans with your brother, Carol and Billy. However, the prospect of being alone with Steve seems way more appealing. And you can’t help yourself, you think about Steve more than you think about anything else. You absolutely miss touching him and you’ve been rather frustrated since he started going out with Nancy.
Meet me in the library after school.
;;;
You made some dumb excuse to Carol about having to work on a class project in the library. She bought it but tried to insist on you ditching it entirely to get to know Billy better. Which you knew Carol was aware you wouldn’t go for.
When Steve walks up to you, you’re standing at the window. He leans against the wall and looks at you quizzically.
“Whatcha doing?”
You watch as Tommy and Carol pile into his car and drive off, the blue Camaro following after them and you say to Steve, “Just making sure it’s… safe. Okay, let’s go.”
Steve let’s out a scoff, “Don’t want them to see you with me?”
You crane your head sideways as you look up at him, “I’m ditching them for you. They’d be mad.”
Steve nods his head, pursing his lips like he can taste your words. You keep your hands to yourself on the walk to his BMW, you’d learned to do as much when you guys were fooling around. Steve talks a lot on the drive to Loch Nora. None of it really makes much sense, or is important but you like listening to his voice. It’s adorable, he stutters every so often and rambles on, losing his thought and then rushing into a completely new thought. The reason you like it so much is you’ve seen Steve hit on girls throughout the years and weirdly enough, this is how he does it so you feel special when it’s directed at you.
His house is empty, it usually is but what always shocked you was how clean it was. A teenage boy lived there alone for eight months of the year, you expected it to be messy but then again, you’re sure they have a cleaning lady coming often. Steve leads you up the stairs and to his bedroom. It smells clean, like laundry detergent and his cologne. Your stomach is doing flips at the familiarity of it all, you’ve been in this exact position many times before and you’re anticipating his next moves. As you sit on his bed, Steve wraps his hand around your hip and lays you on your back. You shyly smile up at him, the weight of his body makes you tingle all over and his big, brown eyes look into yours. There hasn’t been a night in months that you haven’t pictured this exact moment happening, ushering you to sleep and hopefully dream of Steve.
He pushes tucks your hair behind your ear as he cracks a smile, teeth bright and white while his cheeks flush just a smidge. You want to tell him how much you’ve missed him but him and Nancy have only been broken up a couple of days, you know what this is. That’s your downfall, though, you’ll bend over backwards to have Steve. When his lips caress yours, a small moan rises up your throat involuntarily. It’s a soft, sweet kiss and he gently holds your cheek as he does it. Your fingers snake into the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer so you can deepen the kiss. Steve takes things slow, he always did and you’ve always been bursting at the seams, eager for more. You drag your tongue against his lower lip, begging for entrance and he allows you easily. Your body lights up, feels like you’re on fire when he grinds just barely on top of you. His thigh between your legs presses against your center and it makes your head feel heavy, falling apart beneath him. Steve’s like a drug and you’ve been sober for far too long. Your desperation makes you feel antsy, you want things to progress much faster than they are but Steve is stubborn, he sets the pace. He’s different than any other man you’ve been with, he’ll kiss you until your jaw hurts and you’re trembling. That seems to be his intent now because when you try to pull away from it, he grabs your jaw and kisses you harder. You whimper against his lips, wriggling your hips to demonstrate how badly you need him.
Steve pulls back and smiles down at you, stroking his thumb along the apple of your cheek, “You’re so beautiful.”
You flush, grinning from ear to ear as you avert your eyes, unable to hold eye contact. With a giggle you tell him, “So are you.”
He lets out a small, breathless laugh, “Thank you.”
Steve places kisses along your jaw and down your neck, he licks against your skin but he’s always been careful not to leave any marks. Back when you two were fooling around regularly, you weren’t so careful with him and you’d litter his neck and chest with love bites. Steve could always explain them away much easier than you could.
He continues kissing against your collarbone as he starts unbuttoning your shirt. You inhale sharply, goosebumps rising all over your skin when his fingers brush against your now exposed stomach. Steve’s lips descend once he gets your blouse completely undone, brushing them against the curve of your breast. This is the area he doesn’t hold back, sucking and biting gently at the tender skin until it’s raw and sore. You know you’ll have a bruise there by the end of the night but you don’t mind. It’ll be proof this isn’t a dream. In sync, you prop up on your elbows as Steve leans back and reaches around to unclasp your bra. You dispose of the blouse and bra before reaching for the hem of Steve’s polo and pull it over his head. You smooth your hands over his head before he leans down and licks at your perked nipple, his Bambi eyes looking up at you curiously. You whine, arching into the touch as your eyes flutter shut. For a moment, you picture blonde curls and blue eyes but quickly push the thought away as shame begins spreading through your stomach. You try not to think about it too much, not willing to admit even to yourself that you want Billy in that way.
“Steve,” you pant out, for good measure.
He sucks your nipple between his lips as he hand moves to squeeze and knead at your other breast. Another moan falls out of your lips as you squeeze your eyes shut and knit your fingers into his hair. He grazes his fingertips across your neglected nipple and laps against the other. It’s intoxicating, you focus on his soft his hair feels between your fingers. Your thighs tingle as heat surges through your stomach and straight to your core. It’s quiet in the house, in the room, the only sound is Steve’s mouth on your and your paired labored breathing.
When he moves back up to crash his lips into yours and press his body close, you feel his cock hard in his jeans against your navel. He grunts softly against your lips moving both his hands to grip your jaw as he licks into your mouth eagerly. This is unlike Steve, he usually doesn’t express desperation until he’s already inside of you. It gets your hopes up, like maybe he’s been missing you just as badly as you’ve been missing him. And maybe that’s wishful thinking but in this moment, you’ll take it. You grab onto his waist and writhe up against him, letting him know you’re just as needy.
Steve pulls back from the sloppy kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips as his hands lower and he’s making quick work getting your jeans and panties down to your ankles. They hang awkwardly there, your tennis shoes are still on but you're really liking the frenzy of it all. Steve props himself on his knees and does the same with his jeans and briefs, pushing them down to his knees as his long cock springs out and slaps against his stomach. God, you’ve missed the sight of it, your mouth waters as you breathe heavy. Memories of the way it felt in your mouth flood your mind, causing your hips to jerk up in arousal and Steve smiles down at you, clearing taking the movement as a compliment. He circles his hand around himself, pumping a few times before dragging his head through your folds.
“Steve…” you moan out slowly, another surge of wetness flowing out of you.
“Yeah?” he breathes out, his cheeks are flushed and his eyes look glassy. It’s such a pretty view, you wiggle against him.
“Need you,” you admit, shyly.
He licks against his bottom lip before rubbing his tip against your fluttering hole, “You been with anyone else since me?”
You shake your head, knowing the reason behind his question, “I’m clean.”
Steve nods, his hair bouncing with the movement before he sinks his cock inside of you. You gasp out, grabbing onto his bedspread while you melt at the sensation. It’s been way too long. You’re tight, haven’t had anything stretch you out since the last time you had Steve like this. He grunts softly, eyes squeezing shut as he slowly sheathes himself completely inside you.
“Oh,” you moan out, feeling him fill you out in the most delicious way. You force your eyes to stay open, wanting to watch the way Steve’s face contorts in pleasure as he stills his movements. He grazes his fingers up your sides as he lowers himself, his chest flush against yours while his lips find yours again. The kiss is languid, matching the stroke of him between your legs. It’s sensual which is typical from Steve but a stark contrast to the short foreplay. It takes your breath away, regardless. He pulls back an inch, panting against your lips as he rolls his hips deeper, running his hand down to hold onto your hip.
You try to spread your legs further, but the clothing around your ankles makes it difficult. Your hands scratch down his back and you arch your back, moving your hips to chase your high. Steve grunts out and then bites his bottom lip hard, moving his hips faster and more wildly than before. It’s exactly what you need as the pressure building inside you is pulled taut, you’re so close you can almost see it.
“Fuck me, Steve,” you whine out and he makes a pretty, needy sound that has you reeling. It was the type of sound that was the reason you’d always loved going down on Steve.
He rocks his hips into you harder and faster, pulling out little breathy moans from you as you cling onto his back.
“You like that?” he pants out, his hair bouncing with every thrust and you nod up at him, eyebrows furrowing as your orgasm looms closer and closer.
You press your palm against his cheek and he kisses you deeply, smoothing his hands up and down your sides as he moves against you. The kiss pushes you over the edge, a sharp cry flooding out of you as you climax around him, your walls fluttering around his dick and Steve starts making the familiar sounds, desperate and whiny little noises. He pulls out of you quickly, spilling his load over your stomach with a strangled groan. You hum happily, eyes dancing across his gorgeous face. He stuffs himself back in his pants and walks over to his hamper, grabbing a shirt and walking back over to wipe his mess from your navel. He pants as he does it and when he moves away again to dispose of the shirt, you pull your clothes back on.
“You want me to just drop you at home or back at school?” he asks, his eyes everyone but on you.
“Home is fine,” you say, trying to hide the way your heart is splitting yet again from Steve Harrington.
The car ride there is awkward and when you’re a block away, you notice Tommy and Billy’s cars parked on the street.
“Just drop me here,” you say softly and Steve pulls over. As you get out, he leans over and grabs your wrist. You kneel down and lean back in the car. He kisses you gently and then smiles awkwardly at you.
“I’ll see you later,” you say before shutting the door and slinging your backpack over your shoulder.
You walk up to the front door, noticing as Steve makes a u-turn and heads back in the direction of Loch Nora. Tears are threatening to break free but you will them back down, stepping inside the house and waving at Tommy, Billy and Carol as they’re lounged on the couch, watching music videos. You close yourself in the bathroom and look at yourself in the mirror, smoothing your hair down and fixing your makeup. Once you feel you’ve calmed down enough, you make your way back out to the living room and very nicely ask Billy if you could bum a smoke.
“I’ll join ya,” he says, standing from the couch.
Tommy moves to follow but Carol grabs his wrist and pulls him back down, leaning close to whisper something and he looks like he’s about to protest until she starts kissing his neck. You make a face and lead Billy out the back door. You sit down on the plastic furniture and graciously accept the cigarette he hands over. Billy pulls out his zippo and lights it for you. Seeing him, unfortunately, eases the way your heart aches. Deep down, you know Billy would do the same thing Steve just did to you but you try not to focus on that. You feel ridiculous that you thought things might be different this time. It’s obvious that you’ve always been an easy lay to Steve and it hurts that you’re still that.
“How was the library?” he asks as he lights his own cigarette.
You shrug, “Really exciting at first, until it sucked.”
“So what’s his name?” Billy asks, smirking up at you as he exhales the thick smoke.
You blush, dropping your head before replying, “That obvious, is it?”
Billy lets out a big, belly laugh. It’s a nice sound, you want to make him laugh over and over.
“I can always tell when a woman’s had an orgasm,” he quips, sliding his tongue out almost obscenely along his lower lip. It’s insane how quickly he’s making you feel better, no matter how blunt he is.
“Yeah, well, his name isn’t important because the whole thing,” you gesture your hands in big circles, “wasn’t important to him.”
Billy inhales sharply, gritting his teeth, “Well… speaking from experience… ‘cause I am one so.. yeah, all guys want the same thing.”
You curl your lips down in a frown as you chew over his words, deciding you’re not much better than Steve because you went along with it for the same reasons. You wanted to fuck him and shit, you got that.
“Sometimes,” you giggle softly, bringing the cigarette up to your lips, “Girls are after the same thing.”
The blonde laughs again and you wanna breathe it in, wanna taste his laughs and his lips and his whole body. He’s different than Steve, physically rougher around the edges which makes him that much more interesting. Exotic maybe. His hair doesn’t look nearly as soft as Steve’s, not nearly as cared for. You’d seen the Farrah Fawcett spray in Steve’s bathroom and you can guarantee Billy doesn’t use the same thing.
“I’ve seen my fair share of that,” he agrees, “but I think a big difference is once guys have it once, they don’t want it again but girls do.”
“Or they want it again when it’s easy,” you point out, reaching over to snatch the beer from his hand and taking a big gulp from it.
“Beware of those assholes,” he says, raising his eyebrows and looking at you seriously.
You groan softly, “I was trying to stay away from him.”
“Who is it?” Billy asks, curiously. “I won’t tell.”
“But you so will,” you gush, bringing your hand to your face, “It’s premium gossip.”
“You think I’m that type?” he asks, quirking an eyebrow up.
You turn to him, “This is juicy. It’s be hard not to tell people.”
“What? Harrington?”
Willing your face to remain still, “No.”
Billy scoffs, “King Steve. No way. That is something.”
“It’s not Steve,” you seethe, though you know your face is giving it away.
He chuckles softly and grabs the beer back, “Your secret is safe with me but uh… you could do better.”
Billy gets up from the chair, tossing his cigarette before walking back inside.
#billy hargrove x female reader#billy hargrove x you#billy hargrove x y/n#billy hargrove angst#billy hargrove x reader#billy hargrove fanfiction#billy x steve x reader#billy hargrove#billy hargrove imagine#billy hargrove fic#billy hargrove x f!reader#billy hargrove x hagan!reader#simmer down
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★ DAY 1 - nipple play | chris redfield
kinktober 2023 - masterlist.
warnings: top/dom reader + sub/bottom chris + male reader + nipple play + dacryphilia + nipple clamps + vibrators + cumming untouched + chris is called "princess" + and his pecs are often called tits + he pretends to not like it + but fails
a/n: I'm really happy about how this turned out, considering how its my first re smut ^-^ I just hope I'll have the dedication to finish this series...
Your hands roamed Chris' wide chest, adoring the firm yet plushness of his pecs as you traced small scars littered about. His chest- no, his tits, were so soft and pillowy, the moment you saw them bare you just wanted to feel him up so badly. The way he was positioned, sitting in your lap with his front gave you a perfect view of his tits, close enough for you to push your face into. Fuck, your boyfriend was hot.
"Nnhh..." Chris' brows were furrowed, watching you grope his tits through lowered lids. This was the only part of his body apart from his ass that got him embarrassed whenever you teased it. His chest has always been so sensitive, especially since he started building up muscle. He swore his nipples have grown a bit in size. Chris' chest was so full that whenever he wore tight shirts, his tits looked like they were about to burst out and it so so damn attractive to you.
"I can't get enough of of these princess," you tease, making sure to pinch one of his nipples. "Mhn! H-how about you look away then," Chris grumbled, faking annoyance. You didn't miss the way he shivered at the nickname. "No way," you smirked and latched onto one of his buds with your mouth. "Ah!" Chris' eyes widen tries his best to stifle the adorable sound that comes out of him when he feels your mouth on him. Immediately, you began sucking on his nipple- hard.
"S-shit...nggh...hahh, [name]!" Chris whines as you continue your harsh ministrations. Not only do you suck on his nipple, you also leave bites on the bud and the areola surrounding it. You know that Chris is especially weak to biting and you take full advantage of it. "Ungh, [name], anh!" While Chris wants to think he won't cum yet, but he's starting to feel like you might force an orgasm out of him with your pace. In just a moment, you swiftly pulled away from Chris' tit, leaving a thin trail of saliva and a confused pout of your boyfriend's face.
"You remember those toys we bought the other day?" Chris still looks a bit dumbfounded but finally remembers and slowly nods his head. "You wanna use them today?" Well fuck, you sounded overeager and so not cool. But luckily, Chris was the same as you. "Fuck yeah. Definitely." Okay you probably sounded more uncool. But those thoughts left your mind when you saw Chris' face, the way his eyes were blown wide with lust at the idea of putting those new toys to use. You turned to your left and reached under your bed to fish out a small black box. You opened it up and took out its contents: a bullet vibrator and one nipple clamp.
"Why only one?" Chris' voice almost sounded a bit slurred when you first heard him. "I though it was obvious. It's easier for me to suck without it in my way." Chris blushed even harder at how casually you talked about sucking on his chest, like it was just sucking on some candy. You first brought the clamp to his nipple you had already been sucking on and noticed it was a little red and puffy, small bite marks surrounding it. The moment you fasten it, Chris lets out a yelp, jerking harshly as he feels his nipple being overstimulated. "Unghh...shit," your boyfriend's breathing becomes heavy and ragged, and you're sure you can see tiny tears prick at his eyes.
With a mean grin, you switch on the vibrator and push it up to his other untouched nipple. "HnNGGH---" Chris clenches his teeth hard as he reels back from the intense pleasure he's feeling. His moans begin to freely pour out as he squirms, unable to escape the intense vibration and the constant pleasurable pain of having his nipple trapped. He cries out and wraps his muscular arms around your neck. Unable to resist, you pull him into a deep kiss, forcing your tongue down his throat as you ravage him, swallowing down his pitiful moans.
Chris' tears flow freely as he tries his best to grind his leaking cock onto you, only for you to push him back with firm hands on his hips. Even if he could push you off, he didn't, deciding to let you move him in any way you deemed fit. You sigh into his mouth as you open your eyes a bit to watch the tears roll down his cheeks. Despite feeling your dick cry out for attention, you decided to ignore it to be fully in the moment with your boyfriend. Besides, you felt like you were going to be able to get off just by watching him.
"Mnghh! Nnhh, mhh, NghGHH!" Chris continues to sob as his head begins to feel a little too light. You felt his arms tighten around your neck and you could tell he was close. Right as Chris could feel that coil in his stomach unravel, you pulled away from his soft lips and removed the vibrator from his nipple. "W-wh..." Chris couldn't even find his words, still trembling as hot puffs of air leave his mouth. His skin is glistening with a layer of sweat, his lips kiss-swollen and tears are still falling down his face, the image created sending a violent throb to your ignored dick. Just as quickly as you got rid of his source of pleasure, you once again latched onto his nipple and tug on the nipple clamp, finally twisting it a brutally ripping it off of Chris' nipple.
It took him a second to register the heavy mix of pleasure and pain, his eyes rolling back as he cums with a loud keen. His cum splatters on the both of you considering your close proximity, some of it getting on your chest while most of it reached his own, creating a perfect picture. You bring back your face to his, mouthing at his lips and swallowing up his small whimpers from the aftershocks of his orgasm. You wrap one arm around your boyfriend's waist and bring him closer to you, the other going to his head to rub at his hair to calm him down. As Chris' trembling becomes less and less violent and his breathing less ragged, you keep in mind his reaction to the use of those toys on his tits- you were definitely going to use those again.
#vetty's works. ✿#vetty's thirsts. ✿#vetty's kinktober. ✿#resident evil smut#resident evil x reader#chris redfield x reader#top reader#dom reader#top male reader#dom male reader
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now playing: the boyz - christmassy
sunwoo x gn!reader
11th fic for my anniversary event | requested by anon
wc: 1.1k, fluff, established relationship, proposal, this whole fic is just sunwoo being a sap honestly
a/n: i assume most of y'all will celebrate on the 25th, but to those who--like me--celebrate on the 24th and to those in time zones were midnight has already passed: merry christmas~
event masterlist | tbz masterlist
December is a time that always feels special to Sunwoo. Of course, it’s a time of the year that feels special to a lot of people, but Sunwoo likes to believe it’s extra special to him. Because in December, right about this time three years ago, Sunwoo met you for the first time.
It was freezing and he was in a rush to get to class, the Christmas spirit not having reached him quite yet. But then he stumbled into you, with your cheeks and nose red from the cold and your eyes glowing with a sense of wonder he couldn’t really relate to at the time. That was about to change though, because you enchanted him from that moment on. He remembers how fast his heart was racing when you spoke to him and he remembers how much his fingers trembled when he typed his number into your phone. He can also still recall all the lectures spent zoning out, scribbling silly things about you into his notepad instead of paying attention. There was just something magical about meeting you, and even now the magic hasn’t faded. In fact, with every day that passes, he finds himself more smitten with you. Because ever since he met you, every day has been feeling like Christmas on and on. Even without carols and Christmas lights just being together makes life feel christmassy. It’s embarrassing to voice any of those sappy thoughts—Sunwoo likes to think of himself as a bit more cool and collected than that—but then again, he is also a romantic at heart.
And because he is such a romantic, he is now trudging through the snowy streets, bustling with people hunting down their last christmas gifts, to meet you at the corner he first ran into you three years ago. He has his old notepad clutched to his chest and he still isn’t sure if he should really show it to you, worried about looking uncool in front of you, worried that it isn’t good enough, that it isn’t the gesture you’d want. But he decides to trust that you will understand the sincerity in all of this and he knows you don’t care that much for pricey gifts or putting on a big show.
When he spots you at the end of the street, fewer people around this part of town, he halts for a moment. You’re wearing the same scarf as that time, and your cheeks are just as red again, and it doesn’t feel like a coincidence. He takes a deep breath and then he approaches you, your eyes lighting up the second they fall on him.
“Sunwoo,” you wave with your cute, warm mittens and it makes him smile. “Happy anniversary.”
“It’s not our anniversary,” he says, but you roll his eyes at him.
“Yes, it is,” you pull him close by the collar of his thick coat to leave a peck on his lips, “it’s the anniversary of our first meeting.”
Sunwoo kisses you back, his body feeling warm and fuzzy at the knowledge you remembered it too. “Yeah,” he says, “You’re right.”
A satisfied smile spreads on your lips before your gaze wanders to the notepad in his arms. “What’s that?”
“Notes I took back in college.”
You raise an eyebrow, “In college? Why would you need them now?”
“I wanted to give them to you.”
“To me?” You let out a confused laugh, “Why?”
“Go and find out,” he says as he hands it over and then he adds, “Happy anniversary, y/n.”
Your expression turns a bit more serious, unsure what to expect as you open the pages. At first, it’s actual stuff from classes and maybe the one or the other doodle created to overcome boredom. But then, as you reach this very day three years ago, you find your name scribbled on the edge of the page. Then there is your name next to his, a messy heart drawn around both of them. I really like you, it says a few days later. With every page you turn, you grow more flustered. “Sunwoo, what is this?”
“I told you, notes from college.”
“Yeah, but—why is it—are they about me?”
“It was kinda hard to get you out of my head at the time,” he says with a shrug that’s supposed to look nonchalant, even when nerves are getting the best of him right now. “Actually it still is.”
“Are they all from back then?”
“Yeah,” he shoves his hands into the pockets of his coat, feeling the small velvet box in his right palm. “Well, almost all of them. There is also one from today.”
You almost seem in a hurry to read through the pages now, unable to hide your impatience to get to today’s note. Sunwoo doesn’t mind though. If you ever want to look more closely, the notepad will still be around later. And if he’s being honest he is just as impatient for you to get to the important part as you are. When you’re finally turning the last page he takes a deep breath and then pulls out the little box from his pocket, waiting for you to read the words before he gets down on one knee.
“Sunwoo—what—,” you stutter, clearly flustered and your eyes shimmering with tears as you look up from the page, only to find him kneeling before you, snow seeping into the fabric of his pants but he doesn’t mind.
“I know this isn’t a big movie-worthy gesture—but it’s always during this season that I start to wonder how many times we’ll spend it together—and it’s always during this season that I come to think that it feels endless—that I’d like it to be endless. Does that—all of this sounded better in my head—but even now when I look at you it feels like Christmas on and on. I’d like it to always feel this way, I’d like there to always be days like this, days with you. So, y/n l/n,” he takes another deep breath before he repeats the words that are written on the last page, “will you marry me?”
You nod almost violently, not even waiting for him to put the ring on your finger before you fling your arms around his neck, getting your knees wet in the snow as much as he has. “Yes,” you agree as you bury yourself in his embrace, “Yes, yes, yes!”
All the tension is slipping out of him as he hugs you close, deciding the ring can wait another ten minutes because holding you is that much more important. He is full of warmth and happiness and wonder, and he can’t help thinking that it really does feel like Christmas on and on.
event masterlist | tbz masterlist
#sunwoo x reader#tbz x reader#they boyz x reader#sunwoo fluff#sunwoo drabble#tbz fluff#sunwoo x gn!reader#kpop scenarios#kebbis.writing#3.anniversaryfic
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Remember that scene where Kakashi catches Obito on the verge of smooching the class photo?
My HC is that Kakashi accidentally on purpose passes by Obito's place often. Usually he never reveals himself, but when he sees Obito about to make out with Rin in the class photo (why not the Rin's other photos where she's alone btw hmm Obito???), he just cannot stand idly by and watch the embarrassing scene so he descends onto Obito's window to mock him.
Also this scene from a Chinese fic lives in my head rent-free. (The narrator here is Obito). "I'd been sick before when I was young. My classmates would often use illness as an excuse to skip classes and training, or as an opportunity to get attention from their parents. But I always hated being sick, because there wasn't anyone I could seek comfort from. During the worst times, I could only lie in bed alone and endure it. While at the Academy, being surrounded by peers was fine, but times like these only emphasized how alone I truly was. Life is just cruel like that, always reminding me of what I've lost just when I'm about to forget.
Fortunately, I've been relatively healthy, rarely getting sick since I was seven. The only time I really fell ill was the day before my second Chunin Exam.
It was my own carelessness, really. It was already during the seasonal change, and I'd been training from dawn till dusk for the exam. I didn't even care when my clothes were soaked with sweat, and as a result, my fever shot up to 39°C the next day.
I curled up in my blankets, shivering despite having several layers covering me. My mind kept urging me to get up and take medicine, but I couldn't even open my eyes.
Am I going to die? I promised I'd become Hokage, dying like this would be so uncool… I haven't even passed the Chunin Exam yet, and Kakashi will mock me again…
As my mind wandered with these delirious thoughts, I thought I heard knocking at the door, but I couldn't muster the strength to answer it. I closed my eyes and passed out.
In my feverish sleep, my body alternated between hot and cold, and my dreams were bizarre. One moment I dreamed of failing the Chunin Exam again and being stripped of my ninja status; then I dreamed of trying to confess to Rin, but panicked when I couldn't find my love letter; and then I dreamed of Kakashi… he was taking care of me while I was sick, helping me sit up to take medicine, wiping my sweat with a cool cloth, placing his hand on my forehead to check my temperature.
In my daze, I remember thinking how the elderly always say dreams are opposite to reality, and how wise those words were – the real Kakashi could never be this gentle.
When I finally opened my eyes again, it was sunset. The warm-colored sunlight streamed through the window, falling on the corner of my bed, into my eyes, and onto the hair of the person by the window, coating his silver hair with a honey-colored glow.
I stared at Kakashi blankly, thinking I was still dreaming.
There were faint dark circles under his eye, as if he hadn't slept well. Seeing me awake, he looked at me with his droopy eye and said, "Why do you look so stupid the moment you wake up?"
"Wha— no, why are you here?"
"If I hadn't happened to pass by, you would've died from fever in your house."
"…What are you talking about? You're exaggerating! I'm perfectly healthy, the fever would've gone down after half a day of sleep!"
"It's already the second day."
"…"
I was speechless, partly because Kakashi had shut me down, and partly because I felt inexplicably shy, to the point where I could barely meet his eyes.
"Kakashi… did you take care of me for a whole day?"
Now it was his turn to feel awkward. Kakashi lowered his gaze, his voice slightly hoarse: "I couldn't just let you die, could I? Especially when a certain dead-last was crying in his sleep."
My face instantly turned red: "Who was crying! That was—that was sweat!"
"Sweat coming from your eyes?"
"Yeah! Got a problem with that?!"
I glared at him, ready for our usual verbal sparring. But instead, Kakashi turned his head away, and in the backlight, I saw the corner of his mouth curve slightly upward, almost like a smile.
"Whatever, I won't argue with a sick person. If you say so, then so be it."
While I was still stunned, Kakashi had already walked over to take the cloth from my forehead, softly saying as he re-wet it: "You usually act so carefree, like nothing bothers you, but you'll still hide under your blanket and cry alone. What were you dreaming about?"
By now I'd completely forgotten about arguing that those weren't tears, feeling only awkwardness. I'd always considered him my rival, always wanting to compete with him in everything, and there was no way I could admit my vulnerability in front of him, so I stubbornly said: "I wasn't crying from sadness, I… right, I dreamed about marrying Rin, those were tears of joy."
Kakashi's movements suddenly stopped. After a few seconds, he said casually: "Dreams are opposite to reality, you should give up while you can."
"No way! Once I pass the Chunin Exam, I'm going to confess to Rin, just you watch!"
"As if you could pass the exam in your current state. You'll probably be a Genin forever."
"Ahhhhhhh, you're so annoying!""
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every time a drug-related poll goes around i keep seeing posts that are like "ew why are the dirty addicts calling people uncool for not doing drugs what is this a dare ad" and it drives me insane. like part of me does want to understand n stuff bc peer pressure is a real phenomenon and 'coolness' was one of the reasons i took up drug abuse, i but like
equally we need to remember that addicts are oppressed for being addicts, and that the oppressed have the right to make fun of their oppressors. idk but after being shit on for years for being a drug addict, constantly dealing w people disregarding my capacity for making decisions, physical violence in quite a few cases, im kinda just done with having to be on my very best behavior to show any discontent with the way things are
especially when i see soooo many posts around here making fun of neurotypicals and cishets. like you guys know the value of mocking an oppressor. so why cant we laugh a little
important addition that i have to put on my posts any time i talk about drug addiction: i am not encouraging anyone to do drugs i am just talking about my experiences as a drug addict. if you take this post as encouraging you to do drugs, you are reading it wrong and should do some personal evaluation of your own biases, preferably without me, i am not here to help you grow i am just saying what i want to say.
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Okay this is soooo very out there in actual probability of this being logical but the idea of a pool in Jackson or like people are allowed to go out to lake or something or they dig a lake like idek but something that involves reader in a swimsuit and Joel like 😳 in public so maybe a lil bit of jealous Joel in there, I just think it would be so cute and fun and spicy and idek if this makes sense hahaha, I’m so sorry for being awful at explaining ideassss🤦♀️🤣
The Snake River actually runs through Jackson so it’s entirely plausible (yes, I did do research for this)
Surprise
Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader
Author’s note: I didn’t go into this wanting to write smut but it happened and I don’t hate it?? Please be nice to me I’m just a girl
Summary: Joel has something planned for you [3.3k]
Warnings: language, murder jokes, Joel being a little insecure, Joel the Menace making a return, smut (18+ MINORS DNI), fingering, dirty talk, sex in a semi-public place??, almost getting caught, brief mention of a safe word
Joel Miller is not a spontaneous person. It was one of the first things you found out about him. He hates surprises almost as much as he hates planning them. He's someone who likes to know what's happening and when. He loves a plan. But he loves you more.
Everyone has gone back to school, and the seasons are in a neverending battle of when one begins and the other ends. The hazy August heat permeates the windows of your house as you lie in bed, hiding from the sun and the rest of your responsibilities. This time of year makes you especially grateful for your early morning patrol shifts. You get to finish up your work before the world has the opportunity to finish preheating, and then the town is quiet after that, with people shuffling off to work or school. Maybe that's why Joel wanders into your shared bedroom with your backpacks in hand.
"Are you doin' anythin' for the rest of the day?" He asks, and you give him a confused look.
"Besides waiting for our daughter to come home from school? No, I didn't have any major plans." You tease, and he rolls his eyes before tossing your bag at you.
"Meet me downstairs in five minutes." He says.
"For what?"
"It's a surprise."
"Are you finally going to kill me?" You ask, and he scoffs.
"Honey, if I was gonna kill you, I woulda done it a long time ago."
"Fair point. Suspicion always points to the spouse first," you say, sitting up in bed. "Where are we going?"
"Does the word 'surprise' mean nothin' to you?"
"Only when it's coming from your mouth."
"Downstairs. Five minutes." He says, effectively ending the conversation by turning on his heels and walking away. You groan in protest but get up anyways. If it's something he planned, it's probably worth getting out of bed for. Still, you shuffle your feet lazily as you put more distance between yourself and an afternoon nap.
He's almost giddy as you walk out of the house and into the blaring sunshine. Ellie still has a few more hours of school left, and even then, she's gotten over you and Joel walking her to and from class. She's becoming more independent as she gets older, which is fine, but seeing her not need you as much hurts. You talk about it on the way to wherever you're going. Joel says he's noticed the same thing but doesn't want to pry too much and risk being labeled "uncool." You have to literally bite your tongue to keep from asking when he was ever cool.
When you're far enough outside Jackson's walls, Joel grabs your hand and intertwines your fingers, swinging them a little as you walk through the fields. Rock jasmines and asters shake in the window around you, painting the world in shades of white, blue, pink, and yellow. Sometimes it's easy to forget just how beautiful Wyoming can be, but when vast meadows stretch out to the mountain slopes, and the sky is unbelievably clear, you remember. You look over at Joel with his long, graying hair and scruffy facial hair and smile. It's also easy to forget just how beautiful he can be with his gentle hands and crooked nose. He turns to meet your eyes, taking away your view of his side profile, and gives you a look.
"What?" He asks, and you shake your head. "You're starin'."
"I just like looking at you." You admit, making him scoff. Joel is probably the only person in this world who's unaware of how attractive he is.
"Needa get your eyes checked." He mumbles under his breath.
"Big talk coming from a man who refuses to wear his glasses even though he desperately needs them."
"I don't desperately need 'em."
"Really?" You ask, and he hums. You lift your free hand away from your body and hold up three fingers. "How many fingers am I holding up?" He tugs on the hand he's holding and pulls you against him until your chest collides with his. The wind gets knocked out of you, either because of the impact or because you can see all his freckles when you get this close to him. He smirks as he stares at you, glancing between your eyes and fingers.
"Three." He says easily, leaning in to kiss you. You move back enough to make him huff in annoyance.
"That's cheating."
"Mm, I think it's called bein' resourceful."
"Is that right?" You ask, and he hums as he finally kisses you. You indulge him for a second or two before moving back again. "Could you really not see that far?" He sighs and mumbles your name, but you refuse to let it go. "Joel, if your vision's that bad, you need to be wearing them on patrol. I don't want you to make stupid mistakes because you can't see six feet in front of you."
"Look, I hear you. I do. I just..." he trails off, and you raise your eyebrows at him. "It's stupid."
"Stupider than not wearing them at all?" You ask, and he rolls his eyes—the drama.
"They make me look old, okay? That's why I don't wanna wear 'em," he says. Once again, you have to bite your tongue to stop yourself from making a snide comment. "I'm already one of the oldest guys on patrol, and that's enough for the younger guys to make fun of me. If I start wearin' 'em on patrol, I'll never hear the end of it, especially from Tommy."
"You really care what they think about you?" You ask.
"No," he starts, but quickly shakes his head. "Yes. It didn't bother me, but then they started sayin' they didn't know what you see in an old buzzkill like me, and I just... I don't know." He says. You take a deep breath and wrap your arms around his neck.
"Does this have anything to do with you suddenly planning surprises for me?"
"I told you it was stupid." He avoids the question, but you still find an answer. He tries to hide his face in your shoulder, embarrassed, but your hands find his jaw and stop him.
"I don't think it's stupid. I think the other guys on patrol are stupid for saying that and making you think I'm anything but grossly in love with you. I think they don't know what the fuck they're talking about," you say, your thumb brushing against the patches in his beard. "And I think you don't realize just how hot you look wearing glasses," he scoffs, but you don't let him wiggle out of your grasp. "I'm being serious, Joel." You assert, and something behind his eyes shifts.
"Really?"
"Are you kidding me? It's, like, annoying how good they make you look," you say, and he smirks. "It's also sexy for you to try to stay alive. So, it's a win-win." He laughs, the sound making the sun shine a little brighter.
"I mean, who am I to argue with my wife?" He asks, relenting, and you hum.
"Exactly," you say as you kiss him. It was supposed to be quick, a passing kiss to remind him you love him, but when you try to pull away, he's back on you. His big hands snake their way into your hair as he kisses you like he's drowning and trying to pull the air from you. The buzzing bees and chirping birds of the field disappear, and all you can do is hold him. His body is firm against yours, and the soft flannel of his shirt feels perfect beneath your palms. "Was my surprise making out in a meadow? That's pretty romantic, even for you, Joel." You ask as you break away to take a breath that's not his. He groans and rolls his head back to look at the cloudless sky.
"Almost forgot bout the surprise," he says, looking back at you. "You're distractin' me."
"What did I do?" You ask. He grabs your hand and starts leading you through the flowers.
"You were tryna use your woman powers on me."
"Please, explain to me what 'woman powers' you think I possess."
"If you don't know, I can't tell you." He says like he's answering a riddle, and you laugh. The rest of the walk is spent hand-in-hand with his shoulder bumping yours occasionally as your feet walk over the summer grass. As soon as you hear water lapping over smooth rocks, you look at Joel, who pretends not to hear the same thing. He smiles when you hit the break in the trees, and the crystal water of the river sparkles in the sun.
You've heard rumors about the water being safe to swim in, but you didn't trust it. Not that it mattered. You and Joel have swum in way dirtier water than the winding blue river in front of you. Still, you were sure that it was a set-up by Raiders. But now, with Joel by your side, in the daylight, it's taking everything in you to not jump in the water. "I thought it might be nice. Just the two of us." Joel says. You nod and rest your head on his shoulder, looping an arm under his and holding his bicep.
"It is nice," you agree. "But we don't own swimsuits," you say, immediately clocking the excited expression on his face. "You're a menace."
"What? I planned a very nice day for us, and I just... forgot we needed swimsuits."
"Oh, you forgot?" You ask, and he nods.
"I told you, I'm an old man. I forget things easily."
"Give me a break." You roll your eyes before letting go of his arm and walking over to a big tree. You bend down to take off your boots and socks, and Joel quickly follows suit. His eyes stick to you as you pull your shirt off your head, faded scars catching the sunlight. Once you're left in your bra and underwear, you pause and look at Joel. He's stripped down to just his underwear, too, and you have a full view of his broad frame.
His muscular chest is littered with scars, some old and silver against his tan skin and others new and still raised and angry. Your favorite is from where he got caught under some fence a million years ago. It vaguely looks like a thunderbolt striking from his collarbone to his shoulder. You can see the goosebumps rising on his thick biceps from where you're standing. His hands are relaxed and open at his sides, visible veins thrumming blood through his body. His belly has rounded just a little since you've settled in Jackson, something he grew insecure about while you reminded him every day that you loved the softness of his body. His strong thighs are a little paler than the rest of him, considering his patrol schedule in the summer, but they're still freckled and scarred like the rest of him. Your breath catches in your throat when he pulls down his underwear and stands fully naked in front of you.
I guess we're actually doing this, you think as you unclasp your bra. You leave your clothes in a pile under the tree before darting into the cold water together. He ducks his entire head under while you tread, letting yourself get used to the temperature and laughing when Joel comes up with a sharp gasp. "Oh, you think that's funny?" He asks before shaking his head in your direction, frigid water droplets landing on your skin. You shriek and splash at him to get him to stop. He splashes back, making huge swells with his arms, and you have to dive under to swim away.
Once you call a truce on the water fight, you just swim together. You alternate between floating on your back, watching the clouds float by, and diving deep under the water to see what might be down there. After a few minutes, your bodies adjust to the water, and you can actually enjoy the river currents working against you. It reminds you of all the summers you spent in pools, the ocean, rivers, and lakes before the Outbreak. The memory presses on a familiar bruise in your chest, but it doesn't hurt. At least, not as much. Not when you're here with Joel, making new memories in a new world.
You swim over to where Joel is standing, his long curls touching the water as he looks up at the sky. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and your legs around his waist once you're close enough, and he meets your eyes with a smile. His hands grip your thighs and trace patterns into your skin, the warmth of his touch a welcome relief in the cold. You play with the hair at the nape of his neck as you stare at him. "This a good surprise?" He asks, his voice low in his chest, and you nod.
"I like doing things like this with you," you say. "But I also don't want you to worry about keeping me interested in you," he sighs at your words but doesn't break away from you. "We've been together for years now. We went halfway across the country together. We have Ellie. You're it for me. I don't care what the younger guys on patrol have to say about it."
"You don't think I'm an old buzzkill?"
"Not all the time."
"Alright, smart ass."
"I mean, I don't know a lot of buzzkills who go skinny-dipping with their wives."
"See? Gimme a little credit here." He says, pinching your thigh, and you laugh. As the sound dies in your throat, his gaze hangs heavily on you. Suddenly, you're all too aware of his sturdy body under you and his hands on you. You get a little closer to him, and his stomach brushes against your core. A quiet, shaky breath leaves you, and Joel hears it. His lips ghost over yours as his hand dips down, a deft finger grazing your clit.
"Joel," you cry softly, clinging to him tighter when he presses a little harder. He shushes you as his middle finger ventures lower and just barely pushes into you. More. You need more, and he knows it. Asshole, you think to yourself, but your brain shuts off when he inches a digit into you so fucking slowly. You can feel his smirk when he leans down to mouth at the column of your throat.
"That good?" He rasps in your ear, and you nod as his hand adjusts to thumb at your clit. You jump a little at the molten pleasure pulsing through you. He chuckles lowly and nips at your earlobe. "I've barely touched you, honey, and I can already feel you squeezin' me." You can't even formulate a response once he starts moving. The slow drag of his finger against your walls is enough to drive any sane person insane. You whine when he pushes another into you and claw at his shoulders.
Your heart is fast against his chest. Everything you breathe, hear, and feel is Joel. You can't think about anything other than the weight of his hand working you over in the broad fucking daylight. You're close enough to the shore that anyone would be able to see you, but you hope you just look like a clingy couple enjoying a mid-day swim. It's a long shot, especially since he's mumbling absolutely filthy things to you. "You always sound so damn pretty." "Gonna let me fuck you like this?" "You're so good for me, baby." Every syllable makes you feel like you're burning from the inside out. His fingers languidly move in and out of you like he has nothing better to do before stopping completely, and you whine in protest.
"You're f," your sentence breaks off when he quickens suddenly.
"What was that, sweetheart? Where's that smart mouth now?" He asks. Your hips start moving in time with his ministrations, and he watches you like a man starved. You can feel yourself getting closer and closer as his fingers move faster inside you. You think your blood is thundering through your ears as bliss overtakes your senses, but you quickly realize it's hooves. You don't know if Joel hears it, but if he does, he doesn't stop.
"Joel, I think, fuck," he rubs at your clit with more fervor, making you see stars. "Someone's coming." You breathe, and his teeth scrape under your jaw. It's all too much. You moan and drop your head to his shoulder, losing all motivation to get him to stop.
"You gonna come for me?" He asks, and you nod. "C'mon, I know you can do it. Come for me." He hooks his fingers, nudging that spongy part inside you, and that's all it takes. Your mouth falls open, and fuzziness takes over your senses. You hold Joel closer as he works you through your orgasm with encouraging words and gentle strokes. Finally, you have to reach for his wrist to stop because you're so overstimulated, and he would live between your thighs if he could.
"Y'all alright?" A voice comes out of nowhere, and you jump. You and Joel turn to see one of the patrolmen from Jackson, James, on his horse a few hundred yards away. He's far enough away that he wouldn't be able to see you're both naked, but he can clearly see your clothes and backpacks on the shoreline.
"Yeah, we're alright. Just... havin' ourselves a date." Joel says, his voice annoyingly even. James looks confused, so you nod in agreement even though Joel still has two fingers knuckle-deep inside you. If he doesn't kill you, embarrassment just might.
"Well, then," James says awkwardly. "Y'all don't stay out too long. Maria'll have your ass if y'all come back hurt or somethin'." Joel shifts his hand as he nods, and you choke on a moan but try to play it off as a cough. Still, James gives you a look. "You good?"
"Yeah, are you alright, honey?" Joel asks in a mocking tone. You grit your teeth and dig your nails into his arm before nodding at James.
"All good. Just had a little tickle. We'll start heading back to town now. Thanks for checking on us." You quickly dismiss the patrolman, who is more than happy to get the hell out of Dodge. Even if he didn't suspect anything was happening, you know he's terrified of you and Joel. His ideal patrol is not having to deal with either of you and now he just got the whole package plus some. As soon as he's out of earshot, you smack Joel's arm.
"Are you fucking insane? He could've heard us!"
"Us? I'm not the one who was screamin'!"
"Okay, first of all," you start, holding up one finger. "I was not screaming. Second of all, I told you someone was coming, and you kept going!" He doesn't exactly look apologetic, but then again, you're not really mad.
"You know the safe word just as well as I do, sweetheart. I woulda stopped if you said it," he says, and you sigh. He's right. You hate it, but he's right. You try to hide your smile and shake your head as he kisses you. Slowly, he pulls his fingers from you, swallowing your over-sensitive whines down with gentle licks. A stupid thought wiggles its way into your brain, and you laugh against Joel's lips. Once you start, you can't stop, and Joel looks at you like you're a crazy person. "Now, what is so goddamn funny?" He asks, and you compose yourself enough to look at him.
"Think they'll still tease you over being old after you just made your wife come faster than they ever could?"
#can you tell I’m queer because all my smut is focused on female pleasure#mom June’s being a lesbian on the internet again#the last of us#the last of us fic#the last of request#joel miller requests#joel x reader#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#joel miller the last of us#joel miller#joel miller fluff#joel miller fic#joel miller one shot#joel the last of us#the last of us fluff#the last of us smut#the last of us x reader#joel tlou
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I said I was going to read it, and I read it.
And now I know why no one else has in 55 years.
Spoiler Alert: he doesn't actually electrocute Clark, and was never going to. Utter bullshit.
The only cool things about this old guy are 1) his name is Homer Ferret, and 2) he looks like George Burns.
What is uncool about this guy is that he is an optometrist who has been stalking Clark Kent since he was a baby, for reasons he never goes into.
Like, he is just at the Kent's house when Baby Clark does his first heroic thing (pushing a runaway train car off the tracks). He is also suspiciously at the high school when it catches on fire, to see Clark jump into a bush from which Superboy then emerges to blow the fire out.
Did Homer start the fire? If not, why the hell was he hanging out at the high school? We never get answers to these and many other questions.
My favorite part is where he guesses (correctly) that Clark is Superman, based on his glasses. But not in the sane way of noticing that Clark Kent looks exactly like Superman if Superman wore glasses. Remember, no one in the DC Universe can apparently do that. Instead, as the only optometrist in Smallville, he knows Clark Kent never bought glasses from him. Once he has Clark strapped to the chair, he looks at Clark's glasses and realizes the lenses are just fake plastic ones (this was back when glasses actually contained glass).
Clark, as usual, just fucking lies and says he wears fake glasses because he is a giant coward and figured glasses would make kids bully him less. Because that is how that works.
Homer doesn't buy it, either, and so demands Clark admit he is Superman or get juiced. At the last second Clark FINALLY decides to use his X-Ray vision to look through the floor, where he sees that the generator attached to the chair is a low voltage one. Homer throws the switch and it tickles Clark with like 2 volts.
Then Homer admits he wasn't 100% on Clark being Superman after all, so wasn't going to risk killing him. Clark says "oh, you!", and decides to do a Daily Planet report on all the Superman artifacts this clearly dangerous obsessive has collected into a Superman shrine in his basement.
No one gets punched a single time.
The only good thing about this story is this random full page portrait of Clark Kent looking vaguely upset:
The other story in the issue is better, in that it is way, way dumber.
It starts off showing you how YOU TOO can draw Superman!
I feel there are a few steps missing here, but
Jimmy Olsen tells Clark how he is joining an art correspondence school, and Clark IMMEDIATELY decides it is a scam worthy of Superman's attention. And sure, it is definitely a scam being run by mobsters. But the second half of that is not remotely true.
Before he starts using X-Ray vision and perfect recall and telescopic vision and TIME TRAVEL (yes) to "solve" this crime of low-level mail fraud, he has to interview a kid who wants to be a cartoonist at the Daily Planet. Where he says this:
I think I get what he's supposed to be saying in this weird attempt at 60s Mod talk, but it took me awhile. You give it a go.
He also is a total dick about how much this child's comic strip sucks.
I mean it's no Silver Age Superman comic, but they can't all be, Clark. And let's be honest here, the bar is pretty low.
At some point in his "investigation" of this scam art school, Clark decides the best plan is for him to create forgeries of classical Western paintings. By this point he already has more than enough evidence to have these guys arrested, but he didn't get to do any pointless TIME TRAVEL yet (yes), so, priorities.
He flies back in time to study the painting techniques of the great masters. But he is bad at time travel (yes, literally), so he accidentally flies through the tail of Halley's Comet, which makes him 1) 16, and 2) blue.
Then this happens:
Let's unpack this.
1) Superman was the inspiration for Thomas Gainsborough's "Blue Boy," because he at this point is a boy, who is dressed in the mostly-blue Superman costume. ...But also because his skin is blue. You know. Unlike the boy in the painting.
2) Gainsborough uses Superboy as a model, in that he has him pose, holding a hat. But the boy in the painting is wearing a completely different outfit of rumpled velvet. So Gainsborough just did the complex outfit from his imagination, but he needed Superboy to show him what a boy holding a hat looks like? What bizarre level of "master artist" is this?
3) He doesn't paint the Blue Boy's skin, because Superboy has blue skin, and that would be too weird. And while he can obviously do imaginary clothes fine, he needs another model with normal-colored skin to do a face and a hand. ...Even though he only chose Superboy as a model in the first place, partly because he has blue skin, which makes him a 'Blue Boy,' which is what inspired the whole painting in the first place. ...Except he never intended to actually make the Blue Boy blue-skinned. So...
Adult men with families and mortgages wrote this.
After this, Superboy flies back through Halley's Comet's tail, restoring his age and color. Then he goes to visit Rembrandt, where Rembrandt ACTUALLY DRESSES HIM IN A PERIOD OUTFIT, to use him as a model for one of the figures in "The Night Watch". Because Superman is so muscular.
Because, as everyone thinks when they see that painting, "Man. That one guy in the hat is buff as shit." (?)
Notably, yet again, the painter doesn't paint Superman's face, this time because a officer of the REAL Night Guard paid to have his portrait put in the painting. But I guess that guy's body wasn't all swol and hot enough for Rembrandt's painting...of that specific guy.
"WHAT DOES ANY OF THIS HAVE TO DO WITH GETTING THE POLICE TO ARREST THE MOBSTERS RUNNING A SCAM ART SCHOOL??"
Good goddamn question.
Superman comes back to the present and creates perfect forgeries of the two paintings he was inexplicably involved in creating. When the mobsters try to sell them as the real paintings, Clark Kent shows up with the cops and points out how the forgeries aren't actually perfect, he made them slightly different to prove they were fakes.
And this somehow is a crime the mobsters get arrested for. Instead of Clark Kent, who very obviously painted the forgeries so that these guys could sell them. Like, that was their plan, that the heretofore whatever Daily Planet reporter Clark Kent is suddenly such an amazing artist that he can make near-perfect forgeries of great paintings. And Clark went along with it, until he stopped. And this finally proves their art school is a scam. Even though the building they are in literally has trashcans full of art submissions they have thrown out once they take the registration money out of the envelopes. And all the secretaries working for them know the whole plan and have been helping them do it.
I'm not inferring that. That is all specifically shown in the comic.
None of this was necessary. Absolutely none of it.
On the plus side, at the end, the Daily Planet hires that kid to do his monkey comic. But just the writing, because Clark still thinks his art sucks. Jesus Christ, Clark.
Here is an ad for a hobby model of what was at the time an 11 year old station wagon.
I'm not being sarcastic! That's what their ad copy says! That's how they sold this!
There is also a Letters to the Editor feature, which I didn't take a picture of, because they print everyone's full names and hometowns. Yes I know even those kids are probably dead now, but I'm not going to chance it.
At any rate, about half the letters are children telling DC's editors that these Superman stories are stupid and full of inconsistent nonsense. To which the DC editors reply by defensively snapping back at them.
So it's not just us, as adults, now.
They knew. Everyone knew.
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Oh thank you, this is thrilling I've never had a nickname from you haha. Today I was entirely too online and I messaged before and said that I argued with someone about how much I do not want to date Harry and then those girls being mean about Larry fic and just like come on everyone. The reason I said I'm scared wasn't just to say I'm scared, I meant to followup with "I'm scared so I'm taking the joy I have and holding it close and it's making me feel safe and better in these frightening times." Fic is part of that for me and it's not right that these girls were dismissive and judgmental about something like that. If the world is going to hell can we all have our little comforts on the way and not be nasty about them to other people?
And like, I am so much happier and cooler now than I was when I was a bus girl. I'm legitimately funny and I make people laugh every single day and it isn't by punching down anymore. It's something those girls will have to learn, it's hard at first. I give a shit about the people in my life. One of the reasons I said I'd never want to date Harry to that other blog was because I'd never give up the joy and relationships I have to follow any man around on tour. It's not even just Larry (it is Larry). Sooooo many people had something to say about that, that maybe I didn't think I'd like Harry enough or treat him right (the way they could) or value the world experience. Or I wasn't brave enough. My favorite was the people who talked about how Harry would give his girlfriend (me or them) money so they weren't stuck in the hotel (what?). It was suggested that I could have my life and friends in between tours. I'm not kidding. Fuck and no if you drop your life and don't nurture your relationships whenever you have a romance they might be gone when you need them.
So today I've just been kind of spinning and having this reckoning ever since October 16th and Election Day really reevaluating what matters to me and what doesn't. Today it was through the lens of Harry and fandom and fantasizing or not about being his girlfriend. I'm sorry Harry, it's not you it's me. I'll never be your girlfriend. Tbh it's kind of making me laugh now because why did it matter if I wanted to date him or not? And why did those girls have to say nasty shit like that over something I really think they cannot understand until they experience personal growth. To make someone feel bad about their work or their reading materials? What are your hobbies, girlies? I know I can find a way to make you embarrassed about them if you tell me. I know that because I'm you, but better and wiser now and much much smarter than I was when I was 20 and mean. I grew. Will you? Truly, I hope you do. It is so much more fun this way. It is so fun to let the silliness of fanfiction comfort me (though it is of course not all silly). Don't like fic? Don't engage with it, more for me. But use your fucking manners and be polite about it.
Remember that Almost Famous quote about how really being cool is about being uncool or whatever it is? It's true. And I was cool in theory. This is not bragging btw. Embarrassingly I was a hipster. I was a snob, I was judgy and I was a smartass. The guy I dated was gorgeous and rode a fixie and we talked about beer and bikes and the elephant six (remember them?) and people were jealous. I had tons of friends and a social life and on paper it still looks pretty good. But I wasn't authentic and that's what's actually cool. Last month I went out to brunch with my sisters and their kids and let them put Halloween stickers on my face and scream sing "hop like a bunny" outside the restaurant and I was fully present in that moment all weekend. That to me is cool. It's not the only thing that's cool but it IS authentically cool.
TL:DR: Don't be mean, I promise I can still make you feel awful about yourself but I won't because there's nothing less cool than being this bus girl person. Know what you are worth, who matters to you and treat them well and be careful with their hearts and their trust. Don't belittle things you don't understand. Don't waste time trying to guess your way into becoming Harry Styles' next girlfriend (he's taken, ladies). And do date the hot guy at school but know that he will cheat on you. He'll be amazing in bed though. You'll get over him.
Sorry for being so weird! Love you forever, Gina Gina.
This was a wild ride. I want to live inside your brain for a few minutes. 😂 I so fully agree with all of this. Being authentic is being cool. Fully embracing your unique weirdness and being yourself is cool.
Oscar Wilde once wrote, “It is tragic how few people ever ‘possess their souls’ before they die.” As the world feels like it’s falling apart around us, what is the point of wasting time trying to “look cool” by being something you’re not? Be yourself. Get to know yourself on a soul level (my phone changed that to “soup level”…maybe that’s the key 🤣).
And people who belittle things because they don’t personally like something, are just stupid. When my kids were little, their favorite saying was, “don’t yuck my yum” and I think those are good words to live by.
Anyway, bus girls can suck it. The older I get, the less I care about “fitting in” or other people seeing me as “cool” and I realize how much happier I am.
To me, that’s pretty damn cool.
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