#she could have been such a good women kisser

[herenemycherylblossom]

saxa jutul i'm so sorry you would have loved being a mean lesbian

[luveline]

I’m obsessed with the sister!hotch and Reid fics. I can’t stop imagining that scene where Rossi goes to Garcia’s house and she’s fresh from the shower with Kevin. But instead is Hotch at readers house and Spencer is there.

—you and Spencer are in the midst of a long weekend together when your brother shows up unannounced. fem, 1.3k

“You’re really handsome.” 

Spencer laughs as you drag your hands back over his ears and through his sopping wet hair. The shower water is blissfully warm and soaking your front as it rains down on his head. You shield his eyes but otherwise have your fun. His hair is softer than anything you’ve ever felt. 

He holds your hands flat to his head. “You’re handsomer.” 

“Am I supposed to take that in a good way or a bad way?” you ask. 

“A good way!” he says, forgetting your hands in favour of guiding you under the water. “Handsome has nearly always been used for men more than women, but it didn’t fall out of fashion for girls until the fifties.” He tilts your head upward and to one side as his own begins to fall the other way. “You’re beautiful.” His voice is warm on your lips, “you’re so–”

His kiss is ridiculous; he kisses like he’s starving. You didn’t realise men could actually kiss like this until you met him. It’s not just in the movies, it’s right now, his hand at the back of your neck, unbothered by your laughing or your hand slipping down his wet t-shirt. 

“This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done,” you say. 

“We were covered in mud.” 

“We should’ve just got naked.” 

“We’re taking things slow,” he says, laughing, “it’s fun. But what are we gonna do about our wet clothes?”

“You got the most of the mud on you,” you say. Spencer had performed a valiant rescue in that when you fell, he was straight down into the grass after you in an attempt to save your jeans. It didn’t work, obviously, but the thought was there, and he’s such a good kisser in the shower that you don’t mind the loss. “I’m gonna get out and get changed, you can have a real shower, okay? I’ll get you a towel and your pyjamas and stuff.” 

“You sure?” 

“Yeah, it’s fine. I think all the mud from my top half is gone.” 

Spencer takes your face into his hand. His thumb rubs a line along your jaw. “Now it’s gone.” 

You beam. Who knew Dr. Spencer Reid was such a tender guy? You could sort of guess from looking at him that he’d touch you like that, but it’s a contrast, too, to be kissed as though you’re some irresistible siren and to have your face held like fragile glass. 

You step out of the shower still sodden, clothes heavy, and close the frosted door between you and Spencer to strip down. Separated but still shy, you hurry out of your clothes and into a towel, wrapping yourself tightly to head into your bedroom. 

You put on blissfully dry underwear and blot your face. Next is loose pyjama pants and a big t-shirt: you’ve never worried about being sexy for Spencer and you’re not about to start. Your first date was a walk in the park, your second date at the bowling alley. He’s not concerned with that stuff. It’s why his frankness about wanting to take things slow isn’t scary, because when he holds your face and tells you you’re pretty, you believe it. 

“Y/N?” 

You flinch so hard your neck cracks. “Ow,” you whine. 

“What’s wrong?” 

You walk forward before Aaron can let himself into your bedroom. Sure enough, your older brother is in your apartment (as he’s allowed, given that he furnished the entire place and paid the security deposit, and, also, awfully, is a very nice big brother). He’s smiling, carrying two pizza boxes and a carton atop it that smells like French fries. “What have you done now?” he asks fondly. 

“I hurt my neck, you scared me.” 

“If you answered your phone, you’d know I was here.” 

“I was in the shower!” 

“I can see that. You’re getting slovenly, it’s almost midday.” 

You’re so genuinely happy to see him that you forget for a moment your predicament. “It’s the weekend, I can do what I want.” You’re gonna have to let him down, which won’t be easy. “I’m not feeling the best, actually.” 

Aaron lets the pizza boxes rest against his stomach. “How come?” 

“I don’t know, I just feel tired. Maybe we can do something tomorrow.” 

“Honey,” Aaron says, with all the cadence of someone who’s used to rubbing your back when you’re sick, “what’s wrong? Let’s go sit down, I can make you something less greasy.” 

“I think you should just go home, actually. I might be contagious.” 

He looks less concerned and more gutted. “What? I don’t care if you’re contagious. When has that stuff ever bothered me?” Aaron takes another step toward you, his gaze flitting past you toward your bathroom. “What’s really going on?” 

The age gap between you and Aaron is expansive. Your being adopted is another gap, and neither have ever bothered him. The moment you showed up in his life he gave you everything he could manage, which has manifested in long phone calls, in hugs, in homemade soup and delivery when he couldn’t be there. Asking him not to look after you is like telling him you don’t want him to, and it isn’t true. 

He means a lot more to you than whatever awkwardness your confession will inspire. 

“Aaron,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest. “Spencer’s in the shower.” 

He squeezes his pizza boxes. “Sorry?” 

“We went to the park and I fell by the lake. He’s in the shower.” 

“But you were just in the shower,” Aaron says. 

“Well, we weren’t in there at the same time,” you drag. 

Your lie is obvious to him, not just as a profiler but as your brother. His brow pinches and his nose wrinkles, not disgusted with you or anything so cruelly stupid, but dissatisfied, at least. “Did you have to tell me that?” he asks, pained.

“I didn’t tell you that, you profiled that, and it’s sort of not what you think anyways! We didn’t do anything–”

“Honey.” 

“I’m really sorry, but it’s not what you think.” 

“Listen to me.” The shower turns off and Aaron’s cheek twitches. “You are a grown up. You can do what you like with who you like. It’s my fault for coming here unannounced, I keep thinking of you as younger than you are.” Says the adult. Then, the more friendly part of being a sibling emerges, “Could you send him home?” he whispers. “I got your favourite.” 

You laugh at his proposition. “That’s kinda rude, isn’t it? Can’t he stay? He’s cool.” 

“I’m having trouble coalescing the two of you as more than acquaintances in my mind,” he says, as though he has much more to say about it, even if he’s smiling. 

Spencer chooses that moment to walk from the en-suite bathroom and out of your room, a t-shirt stuck to his chest with damp, his own pyjama pants baggy at the ankles.

“Hey, are you okay?” Spencer grabs your hand impulsively, twining his fingers in yours. Then he sees Aaron and does a double take. “Hotch?”

You give Aaron a sorry smile. “Does that make it easier?” 

“I’ll wait in the kitchen.” 

You and Spencer watch Aaron retreat. His hand stays in yours, but he squeezes you too tightly. “Wait for what?” Spencer whispers fervently. 

You lean up on tiptoes to kiss his eyebrow. “You’re about to get the shovel talk, I think.” 

“Oh. Great.” He drops his forehead against your shoulder, wet hair dripping a path down your shirt. “This is really bad.” 

“He brought pizza.” 

“I don’t think that’s going to help me.” 

You crane your head and kiss-kiss-kiss the top of his ear. “You’re really pretty when your hair is wet.” 

Spencer murmurs to you reluctantly. “You’re really pretty all the time.” 

[suni-writings]

Running out of time.

jude bellingham x fem!reader

When two people who didn't know how to love met at the perfect timing to ruin each other.

part 2 | part 3

wc: 2.3k

(content warning: angst, troubled relationships, situationship)

“I can't do this anymore.”

The words escaped her lips before even she could fully process them. It was almost a whisper — a sign of utter defeat, of how much she had struggled and how much she could not take another second of being with him. There was no amount of affection that could mend what the situation had done to her, no amount of luck that could change their fate and, most definitely, no amount of effort he could have shown at that moment that would make her change her mind. It was too late for anything.

If he had listened to her attempts of communication, if he did not dismiss her feelings, if he took her more seriously… A series of ifs that only involved things he could have done.

She had tried to stay with him as long as she could, even if she felt, from the start, that she was doomed from the second her heart beat a little faster at the thought of him. After all, who would hate themselves enough to fall for Jude Bellingham, knowing his reputation, knowing the amount of women he had around on their knees, knowing him?

She thought she knew him, she really did. At least, better than others. They had met at a strange moment in their lives, where a relationship would never fit. That was never what they wanted.

Jude had recently gotten out of a relationship, whereas she was avoiding any sort of relationship for more than a year. Each one had their motivations, and one thing was clear: no relationship was a rule.

So, she didn’t mean to when she realized she was falling for him. In fact, it was nerve-wrecking — constantly beating herself up and trying to smack some sense into her own head; anything that would bring her back to reality. And like that, without knowing her feelings were reciprocated, she created a distance between them, leaving room only for her anxiety.

As her sorrow eyes met his desperate ones, she remembered. Flashes of how they ended up like that flooding into her head without her permission.

“So,” Jude said once. They were at her place — something they used to do quite often. He didn’t like bringing attention to himself and he wasn’t one to take any woman to his place, considering how the press could be if someone saw.

She didn’t know much about Jude. All she knew was that he was a good kisser, a nice company and someone that would provide her aftercare. She couldn’t ask for much more than that.

But one thing she did know — he was confident. Not that she wasn’t, but he was cocky. And, judging by the way he nervously held his thumb, she knew something wasn’t right.

“So?” She asked, tilting her head, looking at him gently.

“I—” he gulped and let out a nervous chuckle. “Look, don’t get me wrong. I know we said it was only a casual thing, but I’ve always been a man that liked, you know, talking to more than one woman.”

She nodded, furrowing her eyebrows, trying to predict what he was going to say. 

“What I want to say is—” he took a deep breath. “I don’t feel like talking to any other woman but you. I haven’t, actually, since this whole arrangement started. I know it’s only been a month, but—”

She laughed and he raised her eyebrows. She held his hand with an affection she hadn’t shown yet.

“Jude, it’s okay. I haven’t been with anyone else or even did as much as looking at anyone else ever since I’ve been with you,” she reassured him.

“Thank God.” He sighed happily, relieved.

The first and only rule was already broken.

“I can’t do this, you know. Can’t have a relationship. It’s not your fault, I just can’t do this sort of commitment at this point of my life.” Jude said while looking at her. She didn’t know where that came from.

They were peacefully taking a walk on a park close to her place. The cold breeze and the way his words somehow felt like a dagger made her shiver and cross her arms, not looking at him.

“I’ve never—” she tried to say. “We were never—”

What could she say? That they were nothing? That wasn’t the truth.

“I’ve never asked a relationship from you. I don’t even— want a relationship. We had talked about that since the beginning,” she said, furrowing her eyebrows. Did she do something that made him think otherwise?

“Let’s be honest with each other for a second.” He said and stopped her, turning her around to look at him  “This whole thing is running out of our control. I can’t do this. There’s no way I can have a serious relationship, one with actual commitment. I need to stop this before it gets to a point that I’ll hurt you.”

She swallowed. Despite her best efforts to hide how that hurt, maybe she was giving it away.

She didn’t want a relationship. They were in the same page.

But she was never the one to insist. Never the one to run after someone. In fact, her entire life, all she did was running away.

That’s all she knew how to do.

So, she just accepted it.

She sighed when she heard the knock on her door, her face twisted with annoyance. For some reason, Jude decided he wanted to see her and asked her to dress up nicely — something he knew she always did, but maybe he just wanted her to create some expectation and, perhaps, not dislike him as much as she was disliking him at that moment.

When she opened the door, he was standing there with a beautiful bouquet of flowers and in a perfect tuxedo. She would’ve sighed, if it wasn’t for the last conversation they had.

“You think you can buy me flowers and what? Problem solved?” She asked, not bothering to hide how much his presence maddened her.

“No. I know you better than that,” Jude said carefully, knowing he had to think well before speaking if he wanted to still be in her life. “But I can still buy you flowers, right? I know you like peonies. And I also like to think that’s a decent way to greet a woman you’d like to take on a date.”

She scoffed and rolled her eyes.

“On a date?” She asked in disbelief. “I thought dates were too couple-ish for you.” She mocked him.

He sighed deeply.

“I was wrong, alright?” He said and run a hand through his hair. “Well, not that wrong. The situation is getting out of hand and we’re breaking every rule we made up, but you’re right, this isn’t like I’m dating you. Still, I’d love to have you on my life and for things to be… the way they were before I fucked up.”

She sighed, crossing her arms.

“My ex showed up that day and I just got nervous; I think.” He looked down. “I had never liked someone this fast, you know? I don’t know how it happened to us. But when she showed up, everything I was afraid of suddenly came back and I just— almost ruined us. Whatever this is.” He looked at her. “But you're not her, and I like you so, so fucking much. Can I, please, have the honor of a second chance?”

“It’s the only one you’re having.” She said as she grabbed the bouquet. “Nice choice of flowers.”

He opened the sweetest, most genuine smile.

“Things are so much easier when I’m with you. I wish it was always like this. That I could take you everywhere,” Jude said.

They were stargazing in her backyard, laying on the soft grass. His head was on her chest as she caressed his hair. They didn’t need to look at each other and he didn’t need to see her eyes to know how she felt — he could hear her heartbeat. It was more than enough.

He was going through a rough patch; she knew that much. And she didn’t know how to fix it, how to help him — it was out of her reach to do such a thing and he would hate if she even tried. His pride always took a tool on him, used to suffering in silence.

“I know.” She sighed softly. “I like being with you, if that helps. You’re my favorite person to talk to.”

“I hope I am,” he chuckled softly. “That’s why we’re sort of together, right?”

“Right,” she nodded. Things seemed so easier and intimate when they were like that. She felt his soft locks against her fingers and sighed once again. “But only sort of together.” She teased him.

“You’re annoying,” he joked.

“Touché.”

“Why are you so mad at me?!” Bellingham exclaimed, trying to run after her as she made her way out of the nightclub. He tried to reach for her arm and called out her name. “Stop, please.”

She stopped. Why was she still agreeing with anything he told her to do, anyway? Even when she couldn’t think straight, even when she was tipsy from all the alcohol she had consumed. Since when he became such a strong influence in her life that she would just submit to what he said? Why didn’t she leave?

Why didn’t she run away?

She was so good at that.

“I just—” She looked up, trying to find a way to put her words together and make it make sense. “I hate seeing you surrounded by so many women. And it’s so clear how much you enjoy the attention.”

“I don’t—”

“You literally left me standing to go talk to whoever that woman was.”

“You’re exaggerating and you don’t want to listen to me. Why don’t you just breathe for one second?” He asked her. “Look, I might enjoy the attention, but I wouldn’t leave you standing anywhere. I told you, when this whole thing started, that you’d never have to worry about me hitting on someone in front of you.”

And, to her, it felt like they had taken every step back. He didn’t mean for his words to come out like that, really. He knew what she had gone through in her relationships and how much anxiety she could feel from liking someone. He wanted to reassure her and was managing to do the opposite.

“Yeah, the same way we told each other this would be nothing serious,” she scoffed. “And it really seemed like you were flirting with her. How come when it’s with me, I have to chill and take a deep breathe, but when you’re feeling like that, I have to keep explaining myself?”

He opened up his mouth, but no words left. She knew he’d say she was making a fuss over nothing.

“Good night, Bellingham,” she said before leaving the club, not bothering to look back.

That same day, thousands of pictures of him in the club came out. He wasn’t doing anything, but her heart broke a little bit more from how many women surrounded him.

He didn’t bother to explain.

In fact, he had ignored her for two weeks.

That’s how they ended up here.

“You’re joking, right?” Jude asked, though he knew her enough to know if she was bluffing or not. “I just told you all my problems and— that I need a break from us. I need to focus on other aspects of my life, I can’t afford the luxury of having space for anything romantic.”

She laughed dryly.

“And what am I supposed to do, huh? Shove my feelings right up my ass just because you want me to wait for you? Or even worse, be your friend?” She didn’t mean to sound that aggressive, but the two weeks of no contact were more than enough for her anxiety to overcome every good memory they had and replace them with thoughts that he didn’t even really care.

“I’m not asking to be your friend! Jesus, you’re so complicated!” Jude exclaimed.

“I'm not complicated!” She argued back. “I’m just tired of having to put your feelings on top of mine, of prioritizing you instead of myself. I know where this ends and I won’t submit myself to this. Not to this, not to you, not with you.”

“Please,” he sounded desperate. Pathetically desperate. He held her arm. “Don’t do this to me. Wait for me. I will come back, I swear to God.”

“And put my life on hold because you want me to?” She asked, looking up at him, showing how hurt she was by the whole situation.

“What if I’m losing the love of my life over something I cannot control?” He asked her in a whisper, his brown eyes meeting hers.

It was his last attempt, that was for sure. But he forgot just how good she was at walking away. Maybe it was her fault for always finding some excuse for his attitudes or even for forgiving him, in first place. Maybe she should've walked away when she realized she was catching feelings. Maybe she shouldn’t have allowed him a second chance.

A series of maybes that only involved things she could have done.

But one thing was for sure: she wasn’t going to break herself over anyone ever again. Despite how much she liked him, despite the part of her that was willing to wait — she had been through too much to do that to herself again. She didn’t know if it was worth it, not anymore.

“I’m not the love of your life, Jude.” She said and did what she was the best at: walking away.

[fandomnerd9602]

Hey, can I request Anya, Julia and mattie x Male Reader? LEMON

at the motel, while cassie is away, the girls and y/n have an intimate and beautiful moment

HAS IT’S PERKS

Spider Women x Spider-Man!Reader

Waiting for Cassie to come back from her little “recon” mission was getting tiresome. You were a Spider totem assigned to protect your fellow high school, some day future spider totems: Anya Corazon, Mattie Franklin and the shy Julia Cornwall. You found yourself falling into a nice repertoire with the gals. It felt good to hang out with them, it was like a bit of normalcy amongst the chaos of being a Spider person. “Okay (Y/N)” Mattie asked, “truth or dare?” “I’m gonna go with truth” you answer back with a smirk. “How did you get your spider powers?” “Easy. Bitten by an Amazonian spider” it was your turn, “Okay Mattie, same thing truth or dare?” “Dare” you answers back. “I dare you to do a handstand” Mattie gives a roll of her eyes before going over and doing a handstand against the small motel room’s wall. “Beat that Spider dude” You answer back by jumping to the ceiling and hanging upside down. “Show off!“ Anya fake yells with a giggle. “okay Julia, truth or dare?” “T-truth” the meek nerdy girl answers. “Who was your first kiss?” Anya asks with a hint of mischief. “I-I’ve never been kissed” Julia says, a little blush of embarrassment makes its way across her face. Mattie lets out a little laugh, “I knew! You’re Drew Barrymore! Ms Never Been Kissed!” “Oh Mattie,” you say still hanging off the top of the ceiling, “there’s nothing wrong with never being kissed.” “I’m gonna skip the question here” Mattie chuckles, “Julia I dare you to kiss (Y/N)” Julia and you begin too blush. “I-I…umm…” Julia tries to come up with an excuse. “A dare’s a dare, Cornwall” you exclaim with a little smirk. Julia tried to straighten her glasses, “oh my…” she managed to whisper as she ventured over to you. “You can skip a dare if you don’t want to do this” you tried to reassure her. “I-I know” her resolve soft yet resolute, “I want to.” She walks up to you, softly. You could practically hear her heart fluttering, or maybe it was your own. She was mere inches from you as you reached up one of your hands to caress her cheek. She leaned in and so did you. Your lips touched midway, one touch and it was like either of you couldn’t get enough. Her lips caressed yours, her teeth softly moved against your lips. You pulled back to see the nerdy, shy girl with a little blush on her face. “That was…wow“ she admit with a little sigh. “Y-yeah” you said, your face flushed red with its own blush. “Wow” Mattie said, “that was…hot. I never thought I’d see an upside down kiss in my life” Julia turned to face the other girls, a slight mischievous resolve in her eyes, “okay Anya, truth or dare?” “D-dare” Anya answered. “I dare you to kiss (Y/N)” Julia said with a giggle “With pleasure” Anya saunters up to you and kisses you a little more forcibly than Julia but just as amazing to feel. “mmm” Anya moans, “that’s nice” Mattie walks up, “Oh I gotta try this out” Mattie kisses you softly. She bites her lips, shuttering at how good that felt. “You’re a greater kisser” “I could get used to this superhero thing” you mutter with a smile. Perhaps being a superhero has its perks

[hearts4golbach]

Hiii :) I love your work and I saw that your doing tara x fem reader so I have a request!! So like tara and reader are both famous youtubers. They are already dating but they haven't told a single soul. Everyone already knows reader is a women kisser. So Tara's a bit scared to come out and tell her fans so reader let's tara know that they will be their for her when she comes out. So later that night tara builds up the confidence and posts on her insta a photo of her and reader announcing their relationship and reader comes straight over to taras house to congratulate her for coming out as bi or pan!!!

Straight out of the Closet.

pairing:

Tara Yummy x Fem!Reader.

warnings:

none

"Hey, guys! I'm here with my," you cleared your throat, "best friend, Tara Yummy!"

your voice played back through the video. you admired Tara's smile. Tara was your girlfriend, but very little people knew that.

although all of your fans knew you were bisexual, no one knew Tara was as well. she had always been scared of coming out. she didn't want backlash from some of her fans, and you knew that would break her heart. you never pressured her to come out or announce that you were dating. You liked how calm your relationship was whenever you weren't worried about the publics view.

your phone began to ring. you looked over, seeing Tara's name at the top of the screen. you answered immediately. "Hi, baby."

"Hey," she sounded a little shaken up. "I really want to come out to everyone. I hate keeping us a secret. I wanna post all of those cute photos we take together."

you stood up and walked into the kitchen. "Tar, your true fans will be there for you either way. you know I will be, too."

she sighed. "I know, I just -" she smacked her lips. "I don't know. it's really fucking scary."

"i know. it is really scary, but I know you can do it. I'm ready whenever you're ready, okay?"

she hummed, "Okay. I think im going to do it soon."

"rip the bandaid off, you know?"

"yeah, I know." she sighed once more, "okay. I'm doing it tonight."

"tonight? you're absolutely sure you're ready?" After 7 months of dating, you could tell she was still anxious. you furrowed your eyebrows together with worry.

"yeah, like you said, rip the bandaid off. well, I gotta go, love. I have to stop procrastinating recording this fucking video." you could tell she rolled her eyes when she mentioned recording. she loved her job, but it got overwhelming at points.

"okay, have fun. you got this. call me when you're done."

"mkay, bye."

you said bye as she hung up the phone. you walked back into your room and slumped down into your chair to continue watching your video.

after a couple hours of planning video ideas and mindlessly scrolling on youtube, Tara finally called you back.

"Hey, how was recording?" You greeted.

"it was okay. I did it." she mentioned casually.

you shot up in your chair. "You did it?!" You ran to open up Instagram. the first photo that popped up was a picture of tara cuddled up in your lap. she was placing a kiss on your forehead. the caption read, 'My baby' with you tagged. "Holy shit. I'm coming over."

a giggle slipped from her lips. "Okay! I'll see you when you get here." You could hear how giddy but nervous she was.

you ran out to your car and began to drive to Tara's house. at stop lights, you kept an eye on the posts' comments. so far, they were all positive. you were over the moon for Tara.

you knocked twice before walking into her house. she greeted you in the kitchen with a hug. you gently pressed your lips against hers. "im so proud of you." You tucked her hair behind her ear.

Tara smiled at you. "Have you seen the comments?"

you nodded, "Yeah! they're all good and I'm so happy about that." You sighed.

tara kept her arms wrapped around you. "Thank you for helping me."

"Of course, Tar. you don't have to thank me for that." You furrowed your eyebrows.

she shrugged before pressing her lips onto yours again. "whatever."

[devnmon]

dating sadie adler, kisser of women hcs ♡

obviously i had to do this for my bbg sadie. she deserves MORE appreciation and if nobody will write for her I WILL!!!! i gladly will. i love her, so enjoy these! luv u all!

[also just pretend this is historically accurate bye!]

Sadie is a very intelligent woman... she knows how to hunt, how to use a gun, who knows what else is in that brain of hers. She must have so many hidden talents and skills, and you intend to find out what.

Though her addition to the group was somewhat abrupt, you and Abigail do your best to make her feel welcome. You aren't sure if Sadie feels the comfort that you hope your words provide to her at first. Once the group moves to Clemens Point, you find she's coming out of her shell little by little. You see it in her pristine new outfit when she returns from a run with Arthur, and the way she holds herself is much different than before.

This new version of Sadie Adler was fiery, confident and stickin' it to the man– you quickly found out not to get on her bad side. Though you think you'd let her do anything to you if it were the right situation.

The minute Sadie realizes what she's feeling for you is more than platonic... it takes her back a step. She never thought she'd find someone other than Jake to want in that way– but here you are. You're always at her side, perfect to her, and she will protect you like her life depends on it. When she silently swallows her feelings and pretends she doesn't care, you notice.

You all but have to drag her out of camp in the middle of the night to get a minute alone with her; otherwise there's prying eyes and others whose attention you really didn't wish to grab.

Once the two of you are alone you'll go off on how she's been avoiding you at every turn, rambling on and on like you'd done something wrong. "What happened to you?" you'd ask. She sighs and goes "You happened to me."

"I've been a fool. Do you hate me? What have I done?" statements flow from her when she notices you're silent, staring while she stutters over confessing her feelings. It's at that point you shut her up by kissing her and you can almost hear the sparks flying from the two of you. There's a big ass smile on her face afterwards and she kisses you in between her smiles. Sadie Adler is a smitten fool for you.

She's observant, patient and good with her hands. That is: she teaches you how to shoot a rifle, since you're more comfortable to ask her. She gladly shows you, and when you think you've got it, her arms surround you from behind to adjust your aim– and you're blushing. After she takes her hands away, you're flustered by the loss and silently begging for her to put them back.

Will match outfits with you nonchalantly as a statement to your relationship with her. Like say you're wearing an outfit with blue or white, she'll wear a blue scarf and her white shirt to match you. She'll even give you a piece of her jewelry to wear in that instance, or get you a piece of your own to match hers. Sadie's sentimental & cute like that!!!

Sadie will also leave you notes secretly, to which you fawn over every time. She also definitely gushes over the ones you leave her, when you compare her to the sweet flowers you pick for her. [Arthur noticed how hard she was blushing one time and got curious, she's had to read your notes in private ever since!]

Definitely gets veryyy touchy and affectionate when she's had a few drinks. She's slurring out "Heyyy pretty girlll I know where you can find a nice place to stay for the night..." in your ear and you have to excuse yourselves in *attempt* to get her to sleep.

Sadie is definitely the type to say "i owe you a hundred kisses" if you had a bet with her about something. Usually it was silly, harmless contests that either of you could compete against each other in playfully.

Sadie also introduced you to pranks, which she loves to pull on the other guys. One time the two of you messed with Arthur, sending him silly letters from someone named "Hugh Janus". The two of you tried to hold in your laughs when he got frustrated and yelled out "WHO THE HELL IS HUGH JANUS??" in camp unprompted.

Sadie is a huge cuddler at night, intertwining her whole body with yours to keep warm, especially when it gets chilly at night. There's not a smidge of space to have for yourself, it's shared with her always. Other examples of this are her linking her pinkie finger with yours when you're standing around the group. She loves physical touch so much that she'll do anything to have her skin on yours no matter what; if it's riding on the back of the same horse, or pouring her a drink, she's making some sort of contact. It's her way to say "I'm here & I love you". She's such a sweetheart to you.

NSFW

Yeah Sadie is a top this Sadie is a top that... may I suggest... she's a switch. On rare occasions, Sadie Loves being on her knees for you. She's a real freak like that. She'll beg and beg and beg until you cave and give her what she wants: you.

“Please, stop teasin’ me, just give me what I want. You know I’ll return the favor, sweet girl.” Her raspy voice, her gentle commands, her pretty thighs spread for you..

But when she's in control? Oh it's absoluuutely over for you. She'll praise you constantly cause she knows it's what you want to hear. “Doin’ so good for me, pretty girl. C’mon, let me hear you, use your words. I know you can.. Such a good girl.”

Her soft little whimpers & pleas as she climbs higher & higher. she’s so desperate for release & your touch, she’s basically sobbing for it. her eyes never leave you once she hears the same needy whine come from your side of the room, wanting to watch you come undone from the sight of her spread out for you.

You can't tell me she doesn't get off on you pulling her hair when it's in a messy braid. You love to run your fingers through it and grip, but it's too hot out for that. Plus she thinks it's easier for her braid to be pulled, and fucking loves it.

Her skilled hands could make you a whimpering mess, easily. She knows her way around, and boy if she isn't good at what she does.

"There you go, you got it, takin me so well..." in that accent of hers.. You'll fold every time. “Oh, look at you, pretty girl. Fallin’ apart for me so easily. D'ya know how whipped you got me?" Yeah, she's a lady who knows how to drive you crazy.

Then again... she's a goddamn tease. Especially if you've been bratty? Oh it's over for you. She feels your body up and down, making you work for any other sensual touches by begging. It's music to her ears. She lovesss to make you work for it.

She'll take her time for however long edging you with her fingers, then her tongue, and once you've had about two orgasms from just that, she sticks her strap inside you and gets another.

For aftercare, she'll ask you if you're feeling alright and lay with you after she cleans you up. Usually the both of you fall asleep afterwards, or take a bath or a shower before you do. Her brown eyes shine in the light while she tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and kisses your cheeks while you lie together.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

I do love clueless Eddie, but he probably is aware that he's not exactly straight. Like, he's probably made out with Jeff a few times. He's just not aware that there's a word for it. He likes men, and he likes women. He's always called himself a little bit gay though which is what he told Robin and Steve when he came out to them.

"Eddie, babe, you know there's a word for that. . .," Robin said.

"Yeah, I'm bisexual," Steve said.

"I think you mean bilingual. I didn't know you spoke more than one language," Eddie said.

"I mean, yeah, but also, no!" Steve exclaimed. "I speak more than one language, so yes, I'm bilingual. I like more than one gender so I'm bisexual."

"Oh! Oh, I am an idiot," Eddie said.

"You said it, not me," Robin said as she continued to paint Eddie's toenails neon pink.

"Robin!" Steve exclaimed.

"What? He literally said it," Robin said.

"I did say it, Steve," Eddie said.

"Oh, is Jeff alright with you telling us that you two used to make out?" Robin asked.

"Oh, yeah, he doesn't care," Eddie said, shrugging. "He's very proud of his kissing prowess."

"Yeah, I'm sure he's very good," Steve said rolling his eyes.

"He is. It's ridiculous the things that man can do with his mouth," Eddie said. "You won't find a better kisser than him."

Steve growled, grabbed a fistful of Eddie's hair, yanked his head back, and slammed his lips to Eddie's. Eddie moaned against his mouth, lifting his hand to curl his fingers into Steve’s hair as he deepened the kiss. Steve broke the kiss, breathing heavily.

"I stand corrected," Eddie said, gasping for breath.

"Steve! This was supposed to be girls' night!" Robin shrieked. "This is where we're supposed to talk about our crushes! Like, I talk about my crush on Vickie!"

"Oh, by the way, I have a crush on Eddie,' Steve said.

"And you didn't tell me this before. . .why?" Robin asked.

"We were all becoming friends, I didn't want to make things awkward," Steve shrugged.

Robin and Steve looked at Eddie expectantly, waiting for him to say something.

"Oh! Yeah! I've been crushing on Steve too," Eddie said, grinning wickedly. "Who, by the way, was totally jealous of how good a kisser I think Jeff is."

"Yeah, keep talking about that, and I might have to find out for myself," Steve said.

"Don't you dare!" Eddie scowled and squeezed his knee. "My boyfriend!"

"Excuse me, that is not how you ask my platonic soulmate to be your boyfriend, Munson," Robin said, waving her brush at him.

"Steve Harrington," Eddie said, taking his hand. "Will you do me the honor of becoming my boyfriend?"

"Yeah, you dork," Steve said, slapping his chest and kissing him.

"Better," Robin said, capping the nail polish.

"Okay, I said you could paint my nails whatever color you wanted as long as I could paint your nails whatever color I wanted," Eddie said, grinning as he grabbed the black nail polish. "Now, tell mummy and daddy all about your crush."

"Ew, never call yourself that," Robin laughed before launching into details about Vickie.

Steve smiled at the both of them, happy that they got along so well and that everything was sliding into place perfectly. Everyone figured out things at their own pace. As long as they got there, it didn't really matter how long it took as long as there was time left to spare. It all works out in the end.

[flightfoot]

any fic recs featuring polyamory?

Oh yeah, definitely!

---

Herbs And Steam by @liiinerle

Juleka le Flor Blef, nature witch from near the forest of Couffaine, arrives at Eiffel Castle so she can partake in the Queen's Trials - a contest to determine the strongest witch in all of France. She wants to prove the strength of her magic, but when she arrives, her attention is quickly distracted by two very interesting women: Kagami, the princess, who seems to act nothing like a princess should; and Marinette, the blacksmith, who has created a magic all her own through metal, steam, and ingenuity. Juleka is immediately besotted with both of them, and needs to work extra hard to focus on her magic. Juleka also soon becomes aware that there is stronger magic at Eiffel castle than she had expected. For one thing, there's a tree in the courtyard put there years ago by a witch whose powers seem to surpass hers; for another, there's Alya la Pluvie Versaunt, who must be the most powerful mage Juleka has ever met...

Unusual poly here, there aren't a lot of Juleka/Kagami/Marinette fics! I love the world here, getting to see all these different witches honing their craft, and Juleka making friends with many of them - though especially the nonwitches Kagami and Marinette, of course XD. If you like some femslash or a good fantasy AU, this fic should scratch that itch!

---

Each Hum And Click by @echo-has-queries

Kagami thought her understandably high standards for a match in marriage would mean she could avoid being paired with a man by her mother. That she could keep perfecting her flying-machine skills and eventually take over her mother’s place in leading the Tsurugi steam engine manufacturing company without having to defer to a man. She would have thought that when her mother told her to test the Agreste boy as a marriage match she had been kidding - if her mother ever kid. But she was serious and there truly was no fault to be found with Gabriel Agreste's son - except for the small detail of course, that he was not human. So Kagami must turn to the only fine mechanic she knows in Paris to find a solution to this new dilemma. But perhaps the dilemma could turn out to be the solution itself. Written for the AU Roulette Challenge 2024 with the prompt: Steampunk AU

So this fic is entirely from Kagami's POV, and it is a treat! It's an Adrigaminette fic, which you slowly figure out from reading the fic, if you didn't check the tags - Kagami may have tried not to like Adrien, but he grew on her regardless, and then a few chapters in you find out about hers and Marinette's failed relationship. I loved slowly finding out why the two of them broke up, when there are clearly still strong feelings between them, and how it ties into Kagami's character arc and the overall themes of the story: standing up for yourself, breaking free from those who would control you, and forging your own path.

---

All Of Them? Every Single One? by @liiinerle

It turns out that Marinette loves a lot more people than she’d initially thought.

This is hilarious and adorable. Tikki lays out how Marinette has a crush on basically every girl she’s met - and even girls she doesn’t know are girls yet XD. 

---

Spin the Bottle by @kasienda

When the bottle cap comes to a stop dead center on Nino, Adrien’s both relieved and somehow more anxious. His first kiss - not his actual first kiss, but still kinda his first kiss - the first kiss he will remember, will be with someone he deeply cares about. But Adrien also cares what Nino thinks of him, so what if he’s a terrible kisser? Nino offers him a reassuring smile, and he relaxes. Adrien glances at Alya for permission, and she just shoos him towards Nino. Adrien turns to Nino, leaning closer. If his stomach had been squirming before, it now feels like a half dozen Kwamis have taken up residence in his gut. But Adrien doesn’t hesitate. He blocks out the presence of all of his friends watching, and instead focuses on Nino - like Nino is a stage partner in a photoshoot. Except kissing Nino is nothing like a photoshoot. … Adrien kisses Nino in a game of Spin the Bottle, and then neither can stop thinking about it. Alya really likes how flustered her boyfriend is by all this. Marinette though, can’t handle it and keeps running away.

This is a great Alya X Adrien X Nino X Marinette poly fic! I love them all talking out their feelings and realizing new things about themselves. Alya’s instrumental and bringing everyone together, though she, herself, is also nervous about confessing to her longstanding crush XD

---

Three’s company by @torvalvt

Kagami has been doing her best for years to ignore her feelings for her friends. It doesn’t help that Adrien and Marinette insist on spending as much time as possible with her, even going so far as inviting her along on their dates together. If only the affection she felt for them wouldn’t get in the way of their relationship. Because it is growing harder and harder to tamp down her feelings with how close they are getting to her.

This is adorable. Adrien and Marinette really want Kagami to join their relationship and she just doesn’t dare hope for it. If you want some adorable Adrigaminette from Kagami’s perspective, I recommend checking this fic out!

---

Chat Noir Cataclyms Hawk Moth's Balls by @a-flaming-idiot

It's what it says on the tin; Chat Noir castrates his unaware father. And at the same time, Gabriel hits a high C to shatter glass, Nathalie realizes she wasted her life, Chloe accidentally outs herself, Adrien becomes homeless, there are no more secret identities, Tikki thinks she's funny, Nino and Alya take what's their's, and Chloe finally respects another human being. And a partridge in a pear tree~

So this is a fun little crackfic! Lots of jokes and absurd scenarios, you're likely to giggle at least a few times (and hopefully several times) while reading this.

---

(let me paint my skin) with your love by starnoir

Adrien blushes, looking down at his lap as his hair falls back over his nape. He shifts in his seat and finds Marinette staring at him with a sweet soft smile, and Adrien returns it. He reaches out his free hand to place on Alya and Marinette's desk, and they both latch onto it. Marinette's fingertips rest atop his own, and the green of her skin seems to glow. Alya's hand finds his wrist, rubbing small circles into his skin. "We love you, Adrien, whether your soul-marks show it or not," Nino decides, leaning back as Alya's free hand knocks off his cap and curls her fingers in his hair, the little bit that he'd begun to grow out. Adrien feels his eyes threaten to bubble over with tears, and it's just so much in one moment. Nino's knuckles on his, Marinette's fingers on his, Alya's slow circles massaged into his wrist as her hand rests on her side. "Thanks guys," he chokes, "I love you all too." And their colors seem to glow, and so do their cheeks. Or, a sweet wholesome soulmate-soulmark au about Adrien finding love after being forced to hide how big his heart was for so long.

---

Getting The Gang Together by @mikauzoran

When Nino and Alya witness Ladybug and Chat Noir detransforming, they come up with a scheme to win over their crushes and create the OT4 they’ve always dreamed of.

---

The Quartet's Duet by timeandpace_lord

In which Kagami and Luka attempt to get two idiots to fall in love. Instead, four idiots realize they were already in love. Based a lot on Determination and Wishmaker specifically. ~~~ It was only a matter of time, he told himself. Sooner or later they’d stumble into the same secret he had and realize they were made for each other. And if they needed a helping hand to get there, a conductor for the symphony of their lives together, he was more than happy to take on that role. Kagami nodded firmly. She’d known that Marinette was Adrien’s true target from the beginning, but it had taken longer for her to get over her own jealousy and realize that the other girl was also the correct target. Now that she no longer had blinders on, it was obvious the two were meant to be together. If she could help them realize it, so much the better.

---

Vanilla Valentine by @talkstoself

When Adrien’s first attempt at baking Valentine Cookies for Marinette goes horribly wrong, Luka steps in to help. There’s no way this could possibly go wrong… right?

---

The Mid-Autumn Moon by AlpakaAlex

Kagami wants to do something for Marinette, but does not know whether she might be overstepping a line.

---

Worthwhile Distractions by @coffebanana

As much as Kagami loves her partners, there are some things she prefers to deal with on her own. So it's a little annoying that they won't stop fretting over her injured ankle, something she very much has under control. But when it turns out that maybe Marinette and Adrien were right that she should have taken things easy, she knows she's lucky to have them both by her side. Even if sometimes that's not so easy to admit to.

---

Blossoming by pepsiisokay

It starts with a bouquet. It ends with one too. A series of moments in which Kagami, Adrien, and Marinette realize they might just be perfect for each other.

---

Hold Me By Both Hands by @angelofthequeers

“I know he said never to take you back,” Plagg mutters. “But he’d change his tune if he knew.” He looks Adrien straight in the eye and, more serious than Adrien’s ever seen him before, says, “There’s someone you gotta meet. He’s been looking for that book for ages.” How differently might the events of season 2 have gone if Adrien had also known of Master Fu from the start?

---

sunblind by @asukiess

Adrien's newfound hobby of drawing leads to learning just how important friendship is to him. Also, he's extremely innocent.

[praetorqueenreyna]

For Rhysand Week Day 7: Free Day, I give you: romcom Rhysta AU. I have to give credit to @beansidhebumbling, who shared a snippet of a "10 Things I Hate About You" Rhysta fic that changed me at a molecular level. In that vein, I give you: How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days Rhysta!

@officialrhysandweek

Nesta is a journalist for a woman's magazine that's always wanted to write things that matter. Her boss has promised her that she'll be able to write whatever she wants after one more article: How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days. She has to find a guy, start dating him, then convince him to break up with her within 10 days. The problem? Her target is Rhysand, a playboy advertising executive who needs to make a woman fall in love with him within 10 days to be his company's liason for a lucrative diamond marketing campaign.

*****************************************

Rhys leaned against the railing on his balcony, eyes glued to the gorgeous woman sashaying towards a taxi with a tantalizing sway of her hips. His lips still stung from their kiss; the little minx had bitten him. He had to admit, he had almost gotten carried away, on the verge of careening off the edge from first base all the way home. But he had to stay focused. His entire career was on the line. He had ten days to win this bet and get Nesta Archeron to fall for him, head over heels. 

There were worse people to seduce, he mused as Nesta opened the door to her cab. She was hot, smart, and just a little mean in a sexy way. The kind of woman who prided herself on being able to sniff out bullshit a mile away. Still, she had succumbed to his charm already. He wouldn’t need the full ten days.

Nesta turned just before getting into the cab, giving him a flirtatious wiggle of her fingers. Rhys blew her a kiss, causing her to roll her eyes and laugh. “Oh, you are already falling in love with me,” he murmured to himself. 

Her mark was cute, she had to give him that. And a good kisser. Unsurprising, considering Nesta could practically smell the playboy sleeze coming off him in waves. It was a shame she couldn’t actually sleep with him, but that wasn’t part of the plan. 

She could feel his eyes on her ass as she walked away. Rhysand was easy, and Nesta felt like she already knew everything about him. It had been laughably simple to get an invite over to his place. Men like that loved tittering docile women, but they craved someone with a little bit of a bite. Just a few minutes of flirty sarcasm and he was putty in her hands. The stage was perfectly set. She had ten days to drive him insane. Rhysand would lose it and break up with her. She’d write her article, and then her obnoxious boss would lighten up and let Nesta write whatever she wanted. 

In the open doorway of the taxi she glanced back, displaying the gleaming arch of her neck. She waggled her fingers in farewell, and Rhys blew her a kiss from the balcony. It was so cheesy it prompted a real laugh, and she rolled her eyes. She looked up at him again once the cab door was closed and her face was shielded behind the window. Her coy grin shifted into a wicked smirk.

“I’m gonna make you wish you were dead.” 

[apomaro-mellow]

Part 3

"You guys really don’t have to do this.”

“Yes we do”, Robin and Eddie said in unison.

Every once in a while Steve wondered if he had a type and this was not helping things. But he knew he’d never be able to stop them, so he just threw his hands up and went into the kitchen to finish helping Ms. Henderson.

“I can’t believe you made that book club homemade brownies”, he said as he wrapped a plate in plastic. “I mean, after what Sheila said...”

“Oh I can’t afford to burn any bridges there”, Claudia said. “Or else I’ll have to go back to the women’s bible study group.”

They both shuddered at the thought.

“Besides”, she continued, “It won’t be all bad for long. I’m planning a coup.”

Steve’s eyes widened. He didn’t know when he became the type that thirsted after book club drama but that’s the kind of guy he was now. Before he could ask her to spill the details, Dustin called from the living room that they were starting. He returned to the living room while Claudia took her brownies and was out the door.

“Your mom is going to war, did you know that?”

“I know, I gave her the idea”, Dustin said while shuffling some index cards in his hands.

“I think you’ve got more important things to worry about now”, Robin said.

“Seconded”, Eddie said.

Eddie and Robin sat on the couch next to each other. Dustin had a whiteboard with both of their names, ready to be tallied up with scores. And a handful of question cards, custom made for the occasion.

“This is ridiculous”, Steve said, standing behind the couch and leaning forward, hoping to talk some sense into everyone.

“I think you’re forgetting about the strange correlation between relationships and this game”, Dustin said. “Ever since that first round at the cabin, you and Eddie got together, Mike and El broke up, and now Nancy, Jonathan, and Argyle are in this weird, trio thing.”

“And while correlation doesn’t always equate to causation, this game seems a pretty decent measure for how well you know a person”, Robin said.

“And the stakes are too high to give this up”, Eddie said. He and Robin had been fighting over shotgun rights in the car as well as the prime real estate that was Steve’s lap.

Seeing an opportunity, Steve leaned in close to Eddie. “If I promise you a ‘good time’, will you give up the game?”

“You’re playing favorites again”, Robin complained.

Steve covered Eddie’s ears. “He’s just easier to bribe. You’re too pricey, Rob.”

“Hey, I heard that. You callin’ me cheap?”, Eddie accused.

“Can we get started with the game, please?”, Dustin brought them all back to the task at hand.

“Get ready to lose”, Robin started.

“Not on your life, Bucks.”

“Alright. First question: How does Steve spend his days off.”

“A jog, a big breakfast, then he spends the rest of the time lookin after you guys”, Eddie answered.

Robin looked at Steve incredulously. “You jog? On your days off? Steve, I think we might need a jock intervention.”

“It’s not just a jock thing. It’s a I can’t believe how many times I’ve had to run for my life thing.”

Dustin put down a tally for Eddie. “Next question: his go-to dancing song.”

“Take On Me!”, Robin nearly shouted.

Eddie raised a brow at Steve.

“It’s good head bopping music!”, he said defensively.

“Said the human bobblehead”, Robin teased.

“His worst date?”

They answered at the same time. “Lina Williams.”

Steve groaned. “I regret telling either of you now.”

“Who is Lina Williams?”, Dustin asked.

“Bad kisser.” “Chatterbox.” “Compulsive liar.” “Kind of a klepto.” “Won’t take a hint.” “But also never stops dropping them.” “Also a name dropper.” “Bad at head-”

“Okayokayokay”, Dustin stopped the duo’s back and forth. “That was more than I needed to know.”

The next few questions they both answered correctly as well. “Where is his grandma from?” “Describe his hair care routine.” “Favorite thing to cook?”

Steve looked at the scoreboard. They were still tied. He sat down between them and laid his arms against the back of the couch. “You know, I don’t see two competitors. I see two people who care about me very much and just want my attention.”

That made Robin pause. “When did I become the kind of girl who fought for Steve Harrington’s attention?”

Eddie stared into the distance. “Yeah...when did that happen?”

“Yeah, he kinda creeps into your heart, don’t he?” Dustin grinned. “Like a little stray.”

Robin nodded. “Like a little, wet stray.”

“Like a little, wet, sad stray.”

“Okay, feelin’ less loved here”, Steve said.

“Well let me give my stray a collar then”, Eddie smirked. “‘Cause I’m never lettin’ him go.” He leaned in the kiss Steve on the lips but then quickly went to his neck.

“Eddie!”, Steve protested in shock. “Eddie~”, he breathed out next, this one less of a protest.

Dustin covered his face and began voicing his own protests, as did Robin.

“We gotta have a rule for this, right?”, Robin said before removing herself from the couch.

“Yep”, Dustin said, still not uncovering his eyes. “We’re gonna bring it up the next time we have everyone. These two are not allowed within five feet of each other.”

“Dustin, make up your mind”, Eddie said when he came up for air. “Do you want me and Steve to get along? Or be apart?”

“This is like the wish you get from a genie. Or a monkey’s paw”, Dustin lamented.

“So are you two fine with calling it a draw?”, Steve asked.

Eddie and Robin shared a look.

“I call indefinite shotgun rights”, she said.

“Then that means his lap is reserved for me”, Eddie replied.

“Okay. Now that that’s settled”, Steve adjusted his position and Eddie immediately sat in his lap while Robin got comfortable at his side. “Dustin. Tell me about this book club coup.”

Dustin didn’t hesitate. “My mom’s gotten fed up with Sheila’s crap, right? And she’s not the only one. So she and like two other moms are going to...”

Steve didn’t know exactly when they’d all changed. Because there was definitely a time in his life where if you told him he’d be sitting in Dustin Henderson’s home, listening to the drama of middle aged moms, while cuddling up with a band geek and the school freak, he would’ve thought you were insane.

But somehow, someway, here he was. And there was no place he’d rather be.

END

Tag Team

@cassaloopa

@thefreakandthehair

@bidisastersworld

@eddiemunsonswife

@mixsethaddams

@lightwoodbanethings

@darkwitchoferie

@thebig-smoke

@captain-daryn

@hagbaby420

@bribopper

@mightbeasleep

@beeing-stuupid

@kill-me-in-my-dream

@onionanddeadgaywizards

@silversnaffles

@ineffablecolors

@urmomsbestie31

@shinekocreator

@thegingervulcan

@hotluncheddie

@spectrum-spectre @archerwithmanybows @henderdads @menamesniall @bornonthesavage @grtwdsmwhr @vi-the-best-you-can   @kardinalkalamity @leather-and-freckles @resident-gay-bitch @goodolefashionedloverboi @snowstar2368 @alienace @martzja @fangirltofangod @saramelaniemoon @lexyvey @ape31 @gay-stranger-things @beautifully-useless @freddykicksasses

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Man-sized Part 2/9 After Dark

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!OC

Tags: Explicit content, +18 audiences only. Smut, romantic angst, fluff. An unapologetic LOVE STORY. Sexual tension, mutual pining, banter, flirting, developing relationship, strangers to lovers. Simon Riley has a dark past (partly inspired by Modern Warfare 2: Ghost comics).

CW/TW: References to PTSD, depression, past torture and abuse in later chapters.

Summary: A uni student who pole dances at a strip club to pay her rent encounters a mysterious giant of a soldier seemingly incapable of falling in love.

A/N: Can be read as a Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!reader. Little to nil description, the OC has a name.

She didn't usually do this.

Bring guys to her apartment after a few giggles. She especially did not bring guys like Simon "I kill people" back home to fuck.

It was her night time self. Her show belonged into a different realm. And that was okay. Everybody had a dark side, and she just... worked with hers in this way.

When people asked about her job, she told them she was a dancer. If they asked more, she told them she taught pole dance lessons. Only a handful of her most trusted friends knew that she danced at a strip club. Danced: she was a dancer, not a stripper. Pole dancing required minimal amount of clothing so that tricks could be performed safely and efficiently. She viewed her job as an opportunity to hone her skills and have a workout after her studies. And it paid the bills. She called it a win-win situation.

Simon belonged to the nighttime world too.

And what happened after dark just had to happen at some point, she figured.

But it turned out that Simon wasn't just a tall, dark stranger who fucked women and killed people.

He was also a lover.

She supposed that he was good at fucking, too, but he seemed to hold back from that this night, with her, at least. She didn't really know what to think of it. She thought he had brought her here – to her apartment – to be fucked. Because that's how it was; he called the shots, not she.

Her clothes were gone as soon as they entered the darkness that was her bedroom. Not a single garment had left his body, other than those big, black shoes that were now in her hallway, somewhere amidst all the girl shoes. Huge hands ran down her back and cupped her ass before she could turn on the lights, they raised her to his lap as he carried her to the bed.

He was a good kisser, and he kissed her all over. She was left with her panties and an icy terror in her stomach as he continued to explore her body with his mouth. She was still not over the fact that he was a cocky stranger who had gotten her into this situation just by pouring honeyed rum in her ear.

In other words, she had fallen for bullshit.

"What's wrong, dove?"

He wasn't stupid, though. He noticed that she was a bit tense, a tad uncomfortable. As much as she wanted to let him do whatever he wanted with her, the prospect of seeing him leave after he was done was a turn-off. In horror, she realized that she wanted to get to know him, wanted to get to know Simon.

"You afraid of me?"

She supposed he would probably get kicks out of it if she said yes.

"Should I be?"

"No. Just here to make ya feel good."

He continued to kiss her, took her breast inside one of those huge palms. She wasn't a small woman, the muscles in her back, shoulders, forearms and stomach might've been a bit too much for some guys. But they weren't for Simon. She felt like a delicate, feminine flower with him, and it was scary: how her breast nearly disappeared inside that warm and calloused hand – of course it was calloused, so much so that the callouses scratched her skin – and when he licked her, she tried to hold on to her sanity for a little while longer.

"What's your last name?"

He huffed a short laugh on her stomach, and her muscles contracted at the hot air suddenly hitting her skin.

"Is that what you wanna know right now?"

When she wouldn't answer, he continued kissing her, went down, even further down…

"Riley."

The name was whispered, short and sweet, against her soaked panties.

"What do we have here…"

She could only swallow and let him take that last bit of shielding fabric away. She hadn't expected this at all: that he would come to her apartment to adore her. That he would go down on her. At this very moment, it felt too intimate, too much from a guy whose name she barely knew. She had come to know him for months and months through his stare only, but now he was here, in her bedroom, between her thighs… he was real.

"I…"

"Yes, love?"

Calling her love already… It was a bit too tacky. But then again, she guessed she did kind of like it because it made her even more wet.

"Could you take your clothes off too?"

This time, he laughed like someone who found the situation greatly entertaining, and her… adorable?

"You never cease to amuse me."

What will happen when I cease to amuse you?

"You always fuck with your clothes on?"

That did something to him. He almost froze, then proceeded to take those goddamn clothes off.

She had ruined the soft, sensual mood, but it was okay, or so she told herself. She wanted to tear down this setting, the scenes that only rubbed it in her face that this was a one time only occasion before Simon would find another girl to obsess about. If he didn't have a girl in every town already...

"No nonsense with you, is that it?" He commented - the mood had definitely changed. "I like it."

The silk gloves were off with the rest of his actual clothes, and this time, when he positioned himself between her legs, it was to guide his erection in.

It was dark in the room, but she could see enough — after all, there was never a complete darkness to be had in the city. The blue-colored light filled the night and showed her that Simon was big.

No, that's not gonna…

He pushed just the tip in, and a needy groan escaped her lips.

"Yeah… I think you like me too."

He was so fucking cocky… Even and especially when his actual cock was inside her, with more and more pushing in by the minute.

She brushed her fingers along the lines of all that muscle, first his shoulder, then the forearm… the skulls and bombs and death. And she was wet, alright. Didn't know if she had ever been this wet for anyone. It was fucking frightening.

"That's a good girl…"

No, not the good girl talk, Jesus…

But she couldn't deny it: it worked. Everything he did, worked like a charm.

His balls touched her as he slid fully in... and stayed there.

The intimacy was unbearable, the stranger was inside her, and she could feel every inch of him. He was hovering above her, looking at her like "Ya feel that? Ya feel it too?"

But she must only be imagining; this wasn't real — a man like him couldn't hold such a sea of emotion in him. He was… a what, a soldier? A killer? There was nothing romantic here. They had met at a strip club.

And what was she to a killer… an exotic dancer, a uni student who barely had her life together, who paid her bills days after the due date.

"Don't flee from it."

She raised her eyes back to his and found that he was examining her. Those eyes now revealed much more than just dark, melting chocolate; they looked like they had seen too much. She briefly thought about whether the man was skilled in torture; if he was skilled at breaking his enemies and if he could hear their thoughts as he broke them. Could hear her thoughts...

"Sarah.. Come back."

Her inner muscles tightened around him, and he reacted instantly. "That's it...- good girl."

No one had ever talked to her like that... And she didn't even want to slap him for it. She followed his voice and was courageous enough to wrap her legs around him, that narrow waist that still managed to be bulky and broad, like everything in him was. He finally started the rodeo, which turned out to be the most sensual fuck she had ever had the privilege to receive.

It was like he fucked her soul or something.

Her lips were quivering, the moans he pulled out from her could've made Nicki Minaj blush. He was thorough, precise, and attentive — traits of a good soldier, she presumed. And he must've been some kind of a leader, the way he cheered her on like a highly ranked officer, a widely respected superior.

"Looking gorgeous," the rough voice washed all over her as she was approaching her orgasm. No one had ever made her come with cock alone. She assumed it was just the months and months of tension that was at work here, but some part of her knew that it was just pure, undiluted Simon Riley who she had to blame for it.

"Eyes up here," he commanded when she was only seconds away from a breakdown. Eyes up here... He talked to her like she was a soldier about to die, and he wouldn't let it happen, not on his watch. But it was a small death and a coming back to life as well: she broke for him so hard that he hissed as she dug her nails into his arms. An invisible string lifted her from her sternum, made her arch her back as she came, screaming, and the eyes held her, beheld her: amused, pleased... He was performing an exorcism on her, waking her from a year-long coma, restarting her heart with electric shocks.

She half expected him to praise her with that sultry good girl stuff again when she was in that vulnerable state, but he bent towards her and went for her mouth. He drank the rest of the orgasm from her lips, almost suffocated her with his kiss as she convulsed beneath him, and he wouldn't stop… he made love to her as she moaned on his tongue, and the thickness continued to fill her slowly as she came down from that life-saving orgasm. By the time he left her mouth, she was panting and squeezing the grinding hips with her hands, sinking her nails in there as well.

"I knew you were a wild one," he whispered against her lips. "That was almost as good as that little slap..."

She couldn't speak, could only catch for air at what Simon had said before he dived for her mouth again. The bed was moaning too under the heavy weight of her mercenary lover, especially when he upped the pace.

"I'm close too," he broke another kiss, slightly panting. "Where do ya want me?"

"Don't pull out..."

He gathered her thighs, lifted them to his shoulders like they weighed nothing, drove deep, so deep that his pelvis touched her and his whole upper body rubbed against her, and all she could feel was muscle. All she could smell was tobacco and hints of scotch and something which she reluctantly labeled as primal. It was his sweat and pheromones and all the tension that came undone as he came inside her. She heard an abrupt grunt that turned into a hoarse, shaky moan... and that earlier, unemotional declaration "I kill people" still echoed in her head.

---

She saw the scars in the morning when he got up and went to the shower. She had thought he was a torturer, but it looked like he was the one who had been tortured sometime in the past.

The white protrusions on his skin were evenly inflicted and in places that were not supposed to end a man but simply give him pain. She didn't know why exactly had she refused to believe him, to believe that his work was something highly unusual. The scars finally rubbed it in her face: this was not a regular, normal dude she was dealing with. He did not work as a desk officer in the military or even as a pro fighter in the combat sports business.

She was both fascinated and disturbed at the thought that Simon likely had invisible injuries too, a collection of scars on his psyche.

"You want a towel?"

It somehow grieved her that he wanted to wash her scent – their scent – away so soon, even if it was a simple, natural thing to do… to shower in the morning. He didn't answer, but when she went to give it to him nevertheless, it suffered the same fate as those flowers as he pulled her under the descending water with him.

The second round was more of a sloppy, dazed fuck. He took her against the wall, and she briefly thought that she would get a huge water bill next month. But it was worth every cent. She didn't come, but enjoyed watching him, now in a fully lit room with half-lidded eyes and a slightly open mouth. He even had a scar on his jaw...

"You're… tight, did'ya know that?"

She was still not over the fact that he talked like this during sex. He was almost chatty when at the bar he had barely spoken full sentences. She never knew dirty talk could be so stimulating.

Or perhaps it was just the magic of Simon Riley again.

"Why so serious?"

She laughed a little — Simon made her laugh. If anything, it was he who could be called serious, even with that dry, dark sense of humour.

"Don't know what to make of you."

"You're not the most open book yourself," he muttered, and she barely detected the hint of sorrow – yearning, in his voice.

He eventually came with an agonized, tired grunt. He seemed to be in a hurry, and when he pulled out and reached his hand to satisfy her as well, she grabbed him by the wrist and gently pushed it away. Simon sighed, and dropped his head against hers while the bulky shoulders closed in on her like walls. The water was running, and he was clearly having a moment, even though it was just supposed to be a quick fuck.

Hesitating, she reached to give him a hug, then started to slowly caress his back as he leaned his head on the wall and against her. His breathing only deepened. He sounded like someone who was taking a cold bath while trying to maintain a controlled breath. At some point, it almost sounded like he was in pain.

"Am I your pet?" He asked rather gruffly, and her hand stopped midway down his back.

"You don't like being touched?"

He nuzzled closer to her neck, placed a kiss behind her ear.

"Perhaps a little too much."

He then surprised her by giving her a wash. Like she was his pet. Perhaps it was his reaction to having shown vulnerable parts of himself to someone, even if what they had shared was just simple human connection. She relaxed a little too much under his touch, which was again deliciously attentive.

"The things I'd do to you if we had more time.."

He was crouching and the soap on her legs eased his caresses, but when he stopped for a while to give her a kiss there, she recoiled from him. It was simply out of surprise, because his hands and the warm water had left her drowsy and melting, but he rose and gave her another look. Simon clearly wasn't used to women refusing him, not to talk of shrinking from his touch.

When they came from the shower, she went straight to the kitchen. While searching for something to offer him as breakfast, she noticed that Simon was examining the course material on her desk.

Art history major and a professional killer — what a hilarious pair.

But he seemed more than interested, almost intrigued. He skimmed through a certain book about studies on the influence of natural philosophy on the Renaissance. The man might surprise her yet, but still, she couldn't see them chatting about Erwin Panofsky over a cup of coffee.

"You want some?"

She was standing there with only a towel on, holding a coffee pan in her hand: far too domestic a setting, and far too soon.

"Nah, gotta go."

Heaven came down in just three words.

Yeah… of course you do.

She abandoned her mission with the coffee and went to get her clothes, to have some kind of protection against the cold Simon would leave her with.

"Will I be seeing you again?"

"If you want to."

Polite, reserved... A gentleman instead of a no-nonsense soldier who would say it like it was. She could see now that he was definitely in a hurry.

"Can I call you?" She tried to flesh out a future for them and not think about the fact that she would, very likely, only have a ghost of him as a memory.

"I'd rather call you."

Right. I'm not seeing this guy again.

"Sure, whatever."

She gave him her number and watched how he walked out of the door and out of her life.

---

You wanted to know what I do for a living.

Holy Mother of…

Not only did he contact her, he sent her a picture of himself looking like… like war. The tired eyes stared at her from inside what looked like the top of a human skull attached to a black balaclava. He wasn't a foot soldier, or a mercenary, he wasn't even working for the UK version of a SWAT team. He was something else. She didn't even have a name for all the gear he was loaded with.

Still want to see me?

Fucking d.e.f.i.n.i.t.e.l.y.

She hadn't expected to see him ever again. She was sure he had asked her number just out of common courtesy. The chemistry was there, but the eventual sex had been awkward — satisyfying, and life saving, but awkward. She didn't really do one night stands, and Simon had flown into that category as soon as he had shut that door.

But now it seemed that she had to find him a new category. Everybody always said to give the guy three days. That the guy would show up if he wanted to.

It had barely been two days since he had been inside her and checked out what it was that she was studying.

I don't know. Doesn't look like James Bond to me.

I can put on a suit if that's more to your liking.

Hah, yeah… She would masturbate on that picture of him wearing a fucking human skull to work at least a hundred times.

No need.

Are you going to return the favor?

She sent him a picture — a rather naughty one. It wasn't the same kind of naughty she did at the club, no. She was wearing barely a touch of makeup, she was a little sleepy, her walls were down... and the only thing she wore was an oversized t-shirt she lifted just enough for him to see a little bit of something.

A smile rose to her face when he answered immediately.

Shouldn't have asked.

Not Bond girl enough for you?

Just the right amount, Sarah. It's your fault if I get killed.

Part 3:

[natsmagi]

no more anons mean i have to become a extra brave boy about mugipostings but anyways..a-ahem...

YOUR FEM!MUGI MAKES ME NUTS EVEN AS A BOY KISSER NOT ONLY IS SHE EXTRA BEAUTIFUL BUT FILLED WITH SO MUCH LOVE AND CARE CAREFULLY PUT INTO HOW YOU MAKE HER AND I'M STARING SOMEHOW BOTH DISRESPECTFULLY AND RESPECTFULLY. IF YOUR MUGI ASKED ME TO MEOW LIKE I CAT I GLADLY WOULD. I'D EMPTY MY WHOLE WALLET OUT IF I COULD FOR YOUR MUGI SHES SO GEORGE-US,.JORGEAUS... BORGEUS... BOUNTIFUL OF LOVE

LISTEN I'VE BEEN A TSUMUGIP SINCE, LIKE, DAY 1 I WAS HERE FOR THE SILHOUETTES AND THE FIRST BIRTHDAY INCIDENT BUT TRULY YOU UNDERSTAND TSUMUGI AS A WHOLE. I'M GOING NUTS HERE MAN IM GOING CRAAAZYYY

I FUCKING LOVE FICTIONAL WOMEN AND YOUR ART THANK YOU AS PER USUAL FOR ALWAYS FEEDING US ANY NATSUME AND TSUMUGI FOOD. i also hope your days goes well bc you fr deserve it <3

JRESHRSHDJKFGKSJDFHGKJ WHATTTTTTTTTTTTT MX TDALEN!!!!!!!!! IT IS AN HONOR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SUCH HIGH PRAISE FROM A TSUMUGI OG I FEEL LIKE IM GONNA GET A GOOD GRADE IN TSUMUGI POSTING.......... THANK YOU!!!!!!!!!!! YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW HAPPY THIS MAKES ME TO HEAR!!!!!!!!!!!!💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

as a token of gratitude here she is showing U some love TOO!!!! FEM MUGI FOR ALL

[sleeplesssmoll]

Heyyyyy it’s me bleh how are you:>? It’s been a while……

Lmao let’s play “which character is this based of the really out of context descriptions” ft reverse 1999

a trauma filled snazzy looking lady kisser

Italian dressing without the Italian

The person who gave her driver liquified weed

Poison Ivy but if she was blonde

He floats, he wrote but he’s not heavy enough to rock a boat

If jack sparrow and ed Sheeran had a kid

Yandere simulator protagonist if it was good

I support women’s wrongs

The autistic creature

Proceeds to die trying to defend and fails

Judge Judy but judgier

A literal greek goddess

Spunky boxer girl

My mom but also my mom’s mom and her moms moms mom

Goodnight don’t let the bed bugs bite

a trauma filled snazzy looking lady kisser: the beloved TK! The pookie! The- continues to be feral about Vertin because look at her

Italian dressing without the Italian: this is the funniest way I’ve seen Sonetto described but it fits

The person who gave her driver liquified weed: the ball of energy, Sotheby! Although, I'd say it was more like liquified crack since the guy was full of an obscene amount of energy afterwards

Poison Ivy but if she was blonde: Druvis who is also mama bear

He floats, he wrote but he’s not heavy enough to rock a boat: The distinguished Mr. Apple

If jack sparrow and ed Sheeran had a kid: rock pirate Regulus

Yandere simulator protagonist if it was good: ok, you could use this for Jessica or Isolde but I’ll go with Isolde since Jess is learning right from wrong while Isolde is…Isolde. Love her though! 

I support women’s wrongs: This could fit a few but I’ll go with the Bloody mafia boss and  Dual wielding champion of The Walden, Schneider!

The autistic creature: 37 (but also Jess)

Proceeds to die trying to defend and fails: Hoffman?

Judge Judy but judgie: Dikke, the legend.

A literal greek goddess: …6 is MY Greek goddess. I don’t have him but he’s way too pretty! 

Spunky boxer girl: Spatula.

My mom but also my mom’s mom and her moms moms mom: There are many “mothers” in Reverse. Madam Z, Ms. Moissan, TF, Ms. NewBabel (although she treats Vertin more like a little Critter)... But I want to say Eternity since she’s been around long enough to mother everyone. A knight is the grandpa version of this description.

And I'm doing well! Tomorrow is my last day before break and I'll have more time to fester in my brain rot! I did great on my finals and stuff too c:

[tired-hq]

𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬.

spencer reid x fem!reader

‼swearing, lots of kissing, blushy, daddy issues mentioned briefly, nervous because of reid (aren't we all)‼

" i just feel safe with you, like nothing bad can happen" reid fell asleep at your apartment last night, now you have to try and compose yourself in front of him and his morning appearance

The Sunday morning sun peers through your curtains. And as you rub your eyes, your brain floods with the memories of last night. You invited Spencer over to have a movie night with you, he even agreed to watch a horror movie with me. You ended up picking one of your all time favorites. But...you don’t remember Spencer ever leaving...

You shot straight up in bed, throwing off the covers and pulling on a pair of sweatpants. You stumble into the kitchen of your apartment to find a messy haired Spencer Reid bent over your coffee pot.

“Morning” You greet.

“Good morning!” He turns around with a smile on his face.

Once he turned around you could take in his entire appearance, his hair was messily displayed on top of his head as a few curls stuck on and covered his forehead. He was in a white t-shirt that was nicely loose on his torso.

Quickly, you look away as you start to feel drool build up in your mouth. 

“So, how long have you been up?” I ask the attractive man in front of me.

He yawns, “Not long, you”

“Just woke up”

“Would you like some coffee?” Spencer pointed to the coffee pot.

“I’d like that” I smile, a pink colored hue rises to my face.

For a first few seconds it’s quiet...

Reid's Pov

After I asked y/n if she wanted a cup of coffee I watched as her face heated up. That’s when i remembered the “lessons” Morgan gave me about women. He said that when a women has an interest in you, her face would turn a pink or red color. So I took my chance and shot my shot.

“You know...it’s cute when you blush” I stir the sugar into our coffees and in the corner of my eye I see her whip her head around to stare at the side of my head with her eyes bulging out of her head.

“I-I-” She stutters and quickly left hiding her face in her hands.

Y/n's Pov

You rush into the living room trying to hold back your squeals. Spencer slowly walks into the living room trying not to spill hot coffee on himself or the floor. You gently take your coffee from him as he sits down.

“I’m sorry I didn’t take you home before you fell asleep” You apologize, sipping on your hot coffee.

“It’s okay, I kinda fell asleep on purpose” Spencer gingerly rubs the back of his neck.

You look at him completely confused, “Why?”

“I just feel safe with you, like nothing bad can happen” He shrugs with a red-ish tint on his cheeks.

“...Really?” You ask, softly.

“Yeah...and while I’m confessing things, I like you, really like you...the kind of like where I think about you when doing things. Like when I click a pen, I tend to click it five times cause I know that you always click your pen five times” He rants on and you can’t help but stare at his lips.

“Oh my god...can I kiss you...”I whisper.

“Yeah, yes, please do” He huffs out.

Within seconds I grab his face and let any tension fly away as your lips knead together. You pull apart and press your foreheads together. You lick the little bit of saliva that was on your lips.

“...You’re an amazing kisser” He informs me.

“I could say the same for you Doctor Reid” You poke his chest with a giggle.

“Doctor Reid, huh?” He pulls me away from him with a questionable look on his face.

“What, you don’t like it when I call you that?”

“No, just no one really calls me that” He chuckles.

“Well...I think it’s kind of hot” You admit to him.

Spencer looks surprised, “How so?”

“Fun fact, I and many other women, find smart men VERY attractive”

“Say that to the girls who made fun of me in high school”

“First off, you were like 12 in high school and plus high school girls don’t really have the best taste in men, most of them fall for guys who end up treating them like shit anyways” You rant.

“Have you dated someone like that” Spencer looked over at you.

You sipped the rest of your coffee, “More like someones and unfortunately, yes”

“Do you know what caused you to?”

“'Cause they loved me, or at least I thought they did...having daddy issues didn’t help, my father despised me. He even told me how much he hated me frequently” I utter as i play with my finger nails.

“i’m sorry..” Spencer whispered.

“Don’t be, I’m here with you...kissing you, it’s pretty much all I’ve ever wanted” You kiss his cheek, but as you're pulling away he pulls you back towards his lips.

He continues to passionately kiss your lips as if he’s trying to show how much he cares about you through kisses.

Once, he pulled away you gripped onto his shoulders as your head went dizzy from the lack of oxygen. He hugged you warmly and you swear for a second it felt like it was just you two in the entire world.

-𝙧𝙤𝙧𝙮 ☆!

[rosewaterandivy]

iv. hunger hurts, but starving works

summary: it’s all fun and games until the fall festival.

pairing: s.h. x witch!reader

w.c.: 4.7k

warnings: my blog is 18+ MDNI; vague allusions to magic and the like (tarot specifically), serial kisser steve, we get by with a little no help from our friends

a/n: sorry for the ouchies last week, hopefully, some meddling from everyone's favorite metalhead and space cadet will help.

series m.list | playlist | currently spinning:

The weeks pass all too slowly. Leaves turning fiery shades of orange, amber, red, and gold before falling gallantly to the ground; littering the streets and sidewalks only to be soaked with rain and snow. Tracy manned the shop, convincing you to take some time off and promising to oversee the rescheduled H & M appointment. But sulking around the aunt’s house did little to alleviate the hollow feeling in your chest.

Women, like clockwork, still came down the bluestone path at twilight seeking absolution and eternal devotion from their paramours through the aunt’s skill. They paid in cash and hardly ever heard a word of advice: “He’s no good for you, honey,” said to a woman sporting a bracelet of bruises around her wrists, “Darling, there are more people involved than you realize,” whispered to another who insisted on bagging the married principal of the high school, his expecting wife be damned.

“I don’t care, I have to have him,” was the perfunctory response. 

Kelly’s eyes easily found yours, cutting through the dark staircase where you sat huddled under a worn quilt. You don’t need to see this, her soothing alto sounds out in your mind. She jerks her head toward the door, Take a walk, we’ll call you for dinner.

It was no use arguing with her. With a heavy sigh, you stood from the stair and slunk off to change. There was a secluded stretch of beach just off the backyard of the property, one you were familiar with frequenting when things all became a bit too much. But, as of late, you’d preferred the quiet comfort of your bed. 

In fact, you couldn’t recall the last time you’d even left the house. Content to laze away your days in languid drips, sleeping through the waking hours only to haunt the witching ones. The family grimoire remained tightly shoved in your bookshelf, slowly worming its way out from between biographies and murder mystery paperbacks. You’d given it a good push back into the shelf a few days ago, but here it was, halfway from tumbling out again.

Throwing on an old college sweatshirt and fleece-lined leggings, you lace up your boots, and toss on a beanie and your father’s old work jacket. The scent has long since faded from it, but if you close your eyes and wish hard enough, the warm, pleasant scent of pipe tobacco and the spice from his cologne comes through. Taking a deep breath in, you revel in the closest thing you have to a hug from your dearly departed father.

Swiftly, you take the stairs two at a time and round the bannister just as Moira pricks the woman’s finger in the kitchen. Your aunt gives you a short smile as you close the backdoor with a soft click.

It would be one thing, if this time away from the shop was doing you any good. As it stands, you’re barely able to get any peace waking or dreaming because every thing hurtles you headlong back to him. And it hurts— alcohol is only capable of so much, after all, and you’re having more difficulty making yourself go cold than you’d anticipated.

As if you’re injured just by knowing him— his touch, his taste, the sounds he makes, how he looks sleep rumpled and barely awake. Numbing yourself with drink doesn’t chase away the dreams, it only makes them worse; though you’ve only kissed the carpenter, you could swear you’d been waking with lovebites on your neck and a soreness between your thighs.

It was infuriating and driving you batshit crazy.

Only in the sense that it made the waking all the more difficult. If you were a weaker woman, you wouldn’t be hitting snooze so much that your alarm clock had eventually given up the ghost and turned itself off. If you were a weaker woman, you would luxuriate in your dreams where his touch was warm and welcome. If you were a weaker woman, you wouldn’t be the walking wounded with a gaping cavern cleaving your heart in two.

But you weren’t that kind of woman; instead, you were stubborn as a mule, as everyone in your life liked to frequently remind you. Things would be better off this way; sure, people were hurt but at least they were alive; the Callahan curse stopped with you.

It had to.

The beach was deserted, as to be expected. The waves ebbing in and out, their white frothy peaks illuminated in the fading twilight. A chilly wind blew through as it pleased, making you wish for a scarf to bundle up with. Burrowing further into the collar of the coat, you shoved your hands into the large pockets to stave off the nip in the air.

Leaning on a nearby boulder, you let out a deep breath. The sea air tickled at your nostrils, briny and damp, as a light mist began to fall. It was coming on dusk now, the scant autumn light dipping below the horizon. Losing yourself to melancholy, you don’t even notice the jingling of a collar as a dog bounded toward you.

Thinking its found a new playmate, the dog breaks into a run, a streak of black in the coming night. Eyes adjusting to the scene, you quickly scramble up the boulder pressed against your back. The dog, undeterred, places its big paws on either side of your frame thinking you’re playing hard to get. 

Hands braced at your side against the boulder, you dig a heel into the sand beneath your feet and attempt to get some distance between the dog and yourself. In an unfortunate display of an utter lack of coordination, you end up cutting your hand on a particularly jagged section of rock just as the dog lands a long lick to the side of your face.

“Woah there!” You call out, bewildered.

The dog continues, unabated, as you fall with a plop to the cold sand, head knocking against the boulder in the comedown. Delighted that its new playmate is at a more accessible level, the dog yips and barks, jumping a bit here and there in its excitement.

“Lucy?” Another voice shouts out into the night, a masculine baritone. A figure comes into view not long after, bundled up much like yourself, with leash in hand. “Luce!” The dog, Lucy, turns quickly to regard her owner, ears at attention and head cocked. He whistles sharply followed by a snap of this fingers, and she trots away, but not before a final lick to your face.

Making to stand on your own two feet, you momentarily forget the cut on your palm, letting out a low hiss of pain as the sand makes contact with your skin. You wince at your own stupidity, it’s going to be even more of a bitch to clean now. Shifting your weight to the opposite side, you brace yourself against the rock to stand. 

But before you can fully rise, the sweet scent of freshly chopped wood and spice invades your senses. A warm puff of air, “Shit, I’m so sorry— she’s normally fine off-leash and I didn’t see you through the mist—”

“It’s fine,” You grouse, hating the skittering of heat beneath your skin at the sound of his voice.

Steve steps back, eyes concerned. “You’re hurt.” 

You want to laugh, cackle, at the absurdity that is your life; a regular comedy of errors. Instead, a bark of laughter slips from your throat as your eyes flutter shut. It would be very helpful if the ground could stop moving now. His hands come out to steady you as your vision tunnels and you sway to one side. 

“I’m fine,” You insist, though it is obvious you are anything but. 

And he’s warm, as always; you idly wonder what it’s like to be a living furnace, to have that much heat running through your veins. Must get annoying in the summer, that’s for sure. Like magma just surging over and over, cooking you from the inside out.

“Uh, it’s not that bad, actually.” Steve chuckles, trying to steady you on your feet.

Oh.

Had you been babbling this entire time? How embarrassing.

“No!” He’s quick to respond, “Not at all. You’re just uh—” Steve wraps his wrist with the slack from the leash with one hand, the other coming to wrap around your hip. “Did you hit your head, or something?”

You give him a slow blink in response.

“Right. Okay,” He sighs shortly and glances back up the hill at the aunt’s house. “Let’s get you back home and cleaned up, hmm?”

The last thing you recall before succumbing to the beckoning darkness behind your eyes lids is the brush of his cheek, rough and dusted a smattering of stubble, against your temple and the whistled tune of your favorite song.

The muted buzz of a conversation rouses you from slumber. Fuzzy at first, like static between stations on the radio, becoming clearer and clearer until—

“Are you sure she’s alright?”

One of the aunts tuts in reply, “Positive.” Ah, must be Kelly then, her low voice ebbs and flows throughout the room, “The cut looks worse than it is and she’s always been a quick healer.”

“We’re lucky you were there though!” Moira from farther off, the pantry maybe. “God knows how long she’d have been down there on her own.”

“I don’t know about that,” the man hedges uncomfortably. “It’s my fault that it happened. If Lucy hadn’t—“

“Now, now,” Kelly sounds closer now, “Don’t go blaming yourself for what amounted to a happy accident.”

Happy? You passed out from a knock to the head and sliced your hand on a rock, but no harm no foul— this was a lucky turn of events, apparently.

“Ugh.” Your tongue feels sluggish in your mouth, slow to maneuver at your whims. “What the—“

Your hand, the one not wrapped in gauze and medical tape, flops against the wood grain of the kitchen table. Fingers scoring along years of wear, knives thrown carelessly against its surface. 

Blinking is a struggle too, your lashes feel positively glued together. “Why am I on the table?”

“Better the table than the cold sandy beach.” Moira says with a wink to Steve. “Our neighbor was kind enough to escort you home.”

Kelly snorts, “Escort is a generous term.” 

Sitting up on your elbows, your head looks to the right, only to find Kelly nursing a margarita.

“Poor thing had to haul you up the hill and wrangle Lucy at the same time.”

“It’s not a big deal,” He demures, sounding far too close for comfort. “You kinda passed out and I just sorta—“ His cheeks are tinging pink under your slow owlish blinks. He brings his hands up in a mimicry or carrying something and icy realization washes over you.

“You had to carry me?!”

Kelly laughs from her perch against the hutch, “It’s not the end of the word peach.”

Moira picks up her cue with a wink, “Oh, woe is me! A big strong man had to carry me like a damsel and return me to my maiden aunts.”

Pushing yourself up fully, you swing your legs over the edge of the table, keeping your eyes straight ahead. Your feet find the ground easily enough and before a word can be spoken, you’ve left the kitchen to bound upstairs and shut yourself away.

In your absence, a hush falls in the kitchen, all save for Lucy snoring by the fire in the living room. Steve taps his fingers against the wooden table, walnut if he had to guess. The warm amber tone of the lumber popping against the darker grain— a beautiful and well-loved piece. He lets a nail trace a divot or two as the aunts prattle around the kitchen preparing dinner.

A hand grasps his shoulder, “Steve,” Kelly stands behind him, her empty margarita glass discarded on the countertop. “Would you like to stay for dinner? It’s the least we can do considering…” She nods her head, eyes looking upwards to where he can only assume your bedroom is.

“Oh, I don’t know if that’s the best idea,” He awkwardly fumbles for an excuse, something believable enough but not the outright truth of ‘I made out with and rescued your niece who wants nothing to do with me. Oh, and I’m also, maybe, in love with her.’

Moira closes the oven, having just checked on the roast. “Nonsense, we insist.”

He swallows, adam’s apple bobbing nervously. “I should really get going—”

“Now, I know you’re not going to spur two old biddies who have invited you to dinner.” Kelly’s voice is warning enough, her eyes light with mischief. An unspoken, you’ll stay if you know what’s good for you.

“So, what can I get you to drink?” Moria asks from across the kitchen.

“I’ll take a beer, if you have it.” Steve says from his spot leaning against the counter, his eyes glance up at the sound of footfalls upstairs. Your socked feet treading this way and that above him.

“Well, aren’t you in luck!” She crows, tugging the fridge open, “I just bought some today. Hope it’s to your liking,” She tosses him a can, that he catches with ease.

Eyeing the label, he gives her a small smile in thanks. “It’s my favorite, actually.”

“How do you like that?” Moira chimes in, setting the table for dinner. “Steve, would you be a dear and grab the pot behind you to place on the table?”

And Steve, for all his good intentions and attempts at a polite exit, finds himself settling own for dinner with your aunts. You stay upstairs throughout dinner and dessert, with only the occasional tread on the wood floor to signal your presence. And each time a creak or groan sounds from the floorboards, his eyes cast upwards wondering what you could possibly be doing up there, and how much you must hate him.

Lucy, however, has the time of her life at the Callahan house that evening. In lieu of her usual kibble, she is treated to a panoply of treats, hand served pot roast from the table, and luxuriating in affection from the aunts. Steve keeps an eye on her, and tries to prevent the aunts and their spoiling of her— “She’s a good girl, she deserves it,” “It’s just a treat Steven, no need to coddle.”

And if she’s aware of her role in the events that transpired this evening, she doesn’t show it. In her hard-won experience, sometimes people just needed a little push. And if that push came from her or through other means, well then, so be it.

Opting to skip out on dinner, you retreated to your bedroom and changed into some comfier clothes— a well-loved sweater and flannel pajama pants, a pair of cashmere socks from Moira several Christmases ago— and snuggled down in bed.

What a no good, very bad day you’d had.

Trying to avoid the very man who haunted your thoughts, only to get a rather enthusiastic greeting from his dog and injure yourself in the process. Just fucking great.

A soft knock sounds from your bedroom door, jarring you away from your thoughts. With a grumble that you were on your way, you reluctantly leave the warm cocoon of the bed and shuffle toward the door.

Turning the knob in your hand, you open the door only to come mouth to mouth with none other than Steve Harrington. It’s an unfortunate turn of events, he’d leaned forward to knock again and collided with you while trying to balance a plate from dinner.

It’s brief, but no less enticing than the kiss at the shop. It’s messy, teeth clacking awkwardly together, lips mismatched, mouths open to sprout apologies. It hurts like a kindness— he’s so warm and inviting, it would be easy to get lost in someone like Steve.

A breath of your name as he pulls away, flushed in embarrassment. “Fuck, I didn’t mean—”

And it’s like he broke you with gentle hands, without even trying. You can feel your heart plummet to your stomach, quickly replaced by a roar of fury. How dare he? First the shop, and now this? 

“You can’t just go around kissing people Harrington!” You hiss, taking the plate from his grasp. “What is wrong with you?! Did you just get out of prison or something?” 

He rocks back on his feet, fiddling with his glasses for lack of something better to do. “I know, I know,” His voice is a low murmur, “And I didn’t mean to, I swear to god, your aunts just asked me to bring up a plate for you.”

The longer you look at him, the worse it gets; all bashful and pink in the cheeks, wire frames bringing the green of his hazel eyes into sharp relief. All compounded by the humiliating fact that you would kiss him again in a heartbeat.

At the mention of your aunts, you cast your gaze down to the base of the stairs, catching Kelly’s eye. Her smile immediately raises your suspicions, the last time you saw that smile, Moira won the election to become president of the PTA by unanimous vote. She gives you a languid wave and wink before turning away and into the parlor.

“I, uh, I should go.” Steve says backing toward the stairs, “I am really sorry about that, it won’t happen again.”

A roll of your eyes, “Yeah, I’ll believe it when I see it Romeo.”

Steve quickly thanks your aunts for their hospitality and readies Lucy for the walk home, you can hear his voice as it trails up from the parlor, pitched higher and softer for the snoozing pup downstairs. A smile lights on your face despite your best intentions. Setting the plate on your desk, you step toward the windows overlooking Willow Street. 

Porch lights illuminate the sidewalk and front garden of the house, and soon enough, a man and his dog appear too. Something being said about repairing the garden gates and a friendly wave to your aunts. He glances up to find your silhouette in the second storey windows, arms crossed and guarded. Steve ducks his head and turns toward home before he loses himself again; a full moon lighting his way back home.

You’d returned to the shop not long after, just long enough to let your hand heal up and recover your pride. Tracy was her usual self, for which you were grateful— she’d checked up on you a few times since the storm, not wanting to smother you. 

As a result of her running the business solo, you found yourself manning a booth at the fall festival. It was a town tradition and one you had managed to studiously avoid in your years of being a local business owner. Unfortunately, it was time to pay the piper.

And, as luck (or lack thereof) would have it, your booth just so happened to be right next to the H & M Construciton one. You hadn’t seen any sight of Harrington yet, but it was only a matter of time, you were sure of it. Tracy had signed the pair of you up offering tarot readings, nothing fancy, just a three card spread. 

“I can’t believe you,” You’d huffed when she shared the news, “You know I don’t like offering readings.”

“Well geez princess,” She said with a smirk, “If you’re gonna get your panties in a twist, I’ll do the readings.”

As it was, the booth was pulling in a fair amount of business already. Shop regulars stopping by to say hi and sign up for a reading, Tracy shuffling her worn tarot deck and dealing like she was at a blackjack table. 

Of course, once receiving their readings (scarily accurate), they were immediately besotted by the fortune-telling dog next door. To be fair, she was pretty damn cute in her little turban and lolling pink tongue. 

A cheery woman was seated alongside Lucy, bright blue eyes and blonde hair, while a dark and lanky man stood toward the back of the booth. Steve was nowhere to be found. 

“You should go an introduce yourself,” Tracy suggested as a teenage girl left the booth, a spring in her step from what the cards foretold. “They’re your neighbors after all.”

Considering you’d kissed their roommate twice now, you figured it would be impolite to dodge a formal introduction. Shoving your hands into your coat pockets, you ambled over to their booth, Lucy announcing your arrival with a soft woof and wagging tail.

“Hey Lucy,” You greeted with a pat to her head, and she nuzzled her head into the palm of your hand. A laugh slips up your throat at her antics, but she’s far too precious to be refused.

Two pairs of eyes are on you and you can feel their stares. “Hi,” You offer with a weak wave, “We’re neighbors, the uh, Callahan house down the street?”

The blonde’s mouth falls into an ‘o’ while the man behind her reveals a wicked grin. They look at each other for a split second, some shorthand ESP you can’t translate, before turning back to you.

“I’m Robin,” Says the blonde offering her hand, she jerks the other behind her to point at the man. “And that’s Eddie.”

“Oh, nice to meet you,” Her hand is warm against yours, comforting. “We’re Steve’s roomates.”

“Right, of course.” You wave at Eddie and shove your hand back into your pocket. “Welcome to the neighborhood.” You rock back on your heels, “And, uh, thanks for the work on the built-ins, they look great.”

He steps forward wearing that same grin, “Not at all, happy to do it.” Eddie crosses his arms, ringed fingers grasping at his elbows. He inclines his head toward you, brows raised like he knows something you don’t. “Harrington was mum about why he couldn’t finish the job,” He says casually, “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, now would you?”

You attempt to school your features into a semblance of calm detachment. “Nope, no clue.” You give Lucy one last scratch behind the ears, “Anyway, thanks for taking care of it and I’ll see you around.”

“Sure, sure,” Eddie nods, “See you real soon.”

Turning back toward your booth, you’re startled to find Tracy shuffling the cards for none other than Steve Harrington himself. 

For as long as he can remember, Steve has had this recurring dream; not a nightly occurrence by any means, but it would crop up at least a couple of times a year. A seaside town, the turning of the season, the sound of trailing laughter and creaky floorboards in an old Victorian house.

Hadn’t been able to make heads or tails of it for years. That was, until he moved to a particular small town; yours, as it so happened. 

And now his nightmares are replaced with dreams and visions of you— dancing with your aunts through the kitchen, a margarita glass in hand, sleep-rumpled and bed-headed blinking owlishly from your bed, running along the sandy coastline Lucy hot on your tail, and, blessedly, the furrow of your sweat drenched brow, mouth falling open in a breathy pant while you tremble and shake above him.

Hadn’t been able to crack it until he stumbled into your shop that day. All it took was the sound of your voice and one look at you for Steve to know, deep in his bones, that he’d found the home he never quite had.

The love he felt for you coursing through him like a drug, was all-consuming. You called his name, and it whispered and roared like an orchestra. And all he can think is how you’d been wasted in the arms of everyone before him; and likewise, how he’d only been wasting time with every other girl back in Hawkins.

But life, like love, is rarely ever fair.

So your rejection, though not wholly expected, had been heard loud and clear. So much so that Steve’s not expecting you to give him a short smile and wave from where you stand at the cider stand. But it’s clear by your body language that you won’t return to the booth until he’s cleared off.

He shyly waves back.

“... this can’t be right.” With one hand Tracy scoops the cards up and shuffles them back into the deck. “We’ll just try again.” She says to Steve before calling out toward you, “Hey, babe?”

Three cups of cider in hand, you poke your head into the booth reluctantly, “Need somethin’?” Setting two cups on the table, you nudge one toward Steve, listening as Tracy mumbles something about making heads or tails of the three card spread.

She smiles, a small pull of her lips as you walk closer, ducking your head to hear her whispering. Tracy clears her throat and says, louder for his benefit, “Can you just hang out for a minute? I wanna make sure the last spread wasn’t a fluke.”

Steve leans back in his chair, arms crossing over his chest, reticent. Sure, Eddie’s ex had read his palm before, but tarot cards were beyond him entirely. He wasn’t sure what your presence had to do with the reading, but he wasn’t about to question it. Tracy instructed him to cut the deck again, his fingers approximating roughly half of the cards and set them to the right.

She shuffles them again, “So the first card is your past, the middle is your present, and the third is your future. Obviously,” she sets the first card down, “Tarot is an ancient storytelling system and a way of making sense of things.”

Tracy places the remaining two cards face side down next to the first and takes a breath. “Let’s see, shall we?”

The first card reveals a tower, the second a pair of cups reversed, and the final card—

A gust of wind blew a fourth card from the deck, landing next to the third card in the spread. Tracy drew in a steady breath, eyes cutting to you. “You do it. The energy’s off, I can’t—”

You back away raising both hands, “I don’t read for people, you know that.”

“But this—”

“Tracy, enough. It’s not gonna happen.”

Steve inspects the cards in question while the pair of you exchange furtive whispers. A tower, two of cups reversed, a wheel of some kind, and the lovers reversed. If the spread itself was anything to go by, it seemed that his future could go one of two ways as evidenced by the third and fourth cards.

“Well, if you’re not going to do anything helpful, you could at least talk to the aunts.”

You roll your eyes at that, “As if. Can you imagine? They’d have a field day with this.”

Tracy scoops up the cards once and for all, slotting them back into their silk pouch and drawing the strings. “Babe, I love you, but I’m beggin’ you to get your head out of your ass.” She nods toward Steve, “Talk to them. For him if not for yourself.”

“Fine,” You hiss turning tow to leave, “But I’m going to complain the entire time.” 

“Love you, mean it!” Tracys calls out as you walk away before winking at Steve.

Shoving some cash in the charity donations jar, he grabs the cup of cider and his jacket from the back of the chair before jogging to catch up with you. Impressively, you’d made some headway back toward the aunt’s house, muttering to yourself all the while. He falls into step beside you, taking quiet sips from the warm drink, the scent of cinnamon and apples wafting through the air. 

Too lost in your own world, you hardly notice his proximity— infuriating Tracy with her wily ways, stupid Steve with his soft smile and cozy-looking self, and your aunts who were no doubt cackling at this very moment watching you and “the nice carpenter” walk down Willow Street. It’s only when his hand accidentally brushes yours that your thoughts still. Taking a deep breath, you shake the thoughts loose and will yourself to shove your hand in your pocket. His brief touch searing you in its wake.

[beestriker015]

Yandere Zatanna x male s/o

Zatanna met s/o during one of her shows, becoming instantly enamored by his smile and good looks.

“That man! He’s the most handsome guy I’ve ever seen!”

She thinks to herself as her eyes slowly met s/o’s as if it were happening in slow motion.

The magician knew from the very moment she locked eyes with him…that s/o is the person she wants to make her own.

Right after the show was over, Zatanna quickly approached s/o before he could leave.

“Hi there, I hope you enjoyed the show. What’s your name handsome?”

She asks him with a seductive voice and a smirk on her face.

He blushed and introduced himself to her.

“S/o huh? Nice name. Let me cut to the chase, I want you to be my boyfriend.”

He politely turned her down, saying he isn’t looking for a relationship right now.

Her smirk quickly transitioned into a small frown, and then into a scowl.

“Well then, I’m sorry……sorry for leading you to believe you actually have a choice in the matter!”

She says while pulling out her wand, causing s/o to back away nervously.

“W-what are you gonna do?!”

“Don’t fret my dear s/o, I’m not going to hurt you. I’m going to make you mine!

Zatanna begins casting her spell.

“Ekam mih llaf yldam ni evol htiw em!”

Suddenly, s/o’s eyes change into hearts for a few seconds before returning to normal and turns his attention to the black-haired magician.

“Zatanna, I…I…I love you!”

He exclaims before kissing Zatanna passionately, much to her shock and pleasure.

“W-wow, you’re a good kisser s/o. Maybe I made the spell a little too strong. Eh, oh well.”

She and s/o then officially become a couple, no one other than herself knowing what she had done to him.

Despite essentially brainwashing him, Zatanna is a genuinely sweet and loving girlfriend to s/o.

Their dates often include classic romantic scenarios, like walks in the park, candlelight dinners, going to the carnival, spending time at the beach, etc.

Even though s/o is madly in love with her and only her, Zatanna still gets jealous around other women.

If any girl (or the occasional guy), would try and flirt with s/o, Zatanna would turn that person into either a dove or a rabbit to be used in her shows.

Speaking of which, s/o is Zatanna’s personal assistant in her magic shows, happy to help the woman he’s been love struck by with her act.

What Zatanna doesn’t know is that the spell she casted on s/o is not permanent, and will wear off sooner or later.

And indeed it did one day when she and s/o were on a date at the beach, the spell wearing off when they arrived much to Zatanna’s ignorance.

As the date went on however, Zatanna could tell something was different about s/o, eventually putting two and two together and figuring out the truth.

She quickly takes s/o somewhere private as to avoid any onlookers and eavesdroppers.

“…hey s/o, the spell I casted on you faded didn’t it?”

He looked at her nervously and nodded.

A part of her wanted to recast the spell immediately, but another part was curious as to why he didn’t try to run away or get angry with her as soon as the spell’s effect wore off.

The latter part won and she promptly asked s/o the question that’s eating away at her.

“Why then? Why didn’t you try to escape or yell at me for mind controlling you?”

He nervously twiddled his thumbs and looked at her.

“W-well, what you did to me was wrong, but I remembered everything we did while I was under your love spell and I guess I…actually enjoyed being your boyfriend.”

She looks at him with a shocked expression on her face.

“R-really?”

“Yeah, and I wouldn’t mind if we could…y’know…start over? Just without the brainwashing this time ok?”

She smiles and agrees.

“I’ll do anything just as long as you’re mine. I love you s/o.”

“I love you too Zatanna.”

They both embrace, Zatanna smiling to herself that her darling s/o loves her, and of his own free will this time.

However, s/o does not know about what his girlfriend did to anyone who flirted with him while he was under her spell.

And that’s exactly the way Zatanna wants it to be.