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cherrygirlfriend · 4 months ago

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against the mirror

pairing: rafe cameron x bsf!reader

genre: smutsmutsmut, minors DNI!!! bathroom sex, PIV, cheating (rafe has a gf), mirror sex, unprotected sex

synopsis: having fun with your best friend at a party bathroom

word count: 3.5k ...

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩

You stood outside on the balcony, observing the moon that was perched on the dark sky, for once void of clouds so you could actually see it along with the stars surrounding it, your lips wrapped around a joint as you traced the constellations you could make out with your pointer finger, one of your eyes closed in concentration.

The door to the balcony opened, and you could hear the hustle and bustle from the party, loud music and shrieks of excitement drifting onto the balcony before they were muted once the door was closed once again, and you could tell who was at the door without even turning to look at him.

Rafe took the joint from your lips, a faint lipstick mark from where your lips had just been, and he brought it to his own lips, taking a slow, deep drag of the joint before taking hold of your chin, making you turn your head to him, your focus strictly on the joint now on his lips.

"It's not polite to steal." You say quietly, a grin spreading onto Rafe's lips as he finishes the joint, before putting it out and leaving it on the ash tray, the lazy grin still on his lips as he looks at you up and down. "What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing." He shrugged, but you've known him long enough to know that in Rafe's language, 'nothing' meant 'everything.'

"So, did your little girlfriend finally let you off her leash?"

"Sofia? She doesn't have me on a leash. Stop being dramatic."

"Mmhm, sure." You chuckled softly, lifting your brows, a challenging glint in your eyes as you bit down on your lip, Rafe's gaze quickly flicking down to your lips before he cleared his throat and looked away, taking a swig of his beer. "So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

"I dunno. You looked bored. Can't I wanna spend time with you without you getting all interrogate-y? It's annoying as hell." Rafe scoffed, and a part of you enjoyed the fact that you were getting under his skin, a soft chuckle leaving your lips. "What are you laughing at?"

"You're cute when you get mad."

"You're drunk."

"Only a little bit." You grinned, "But not too drunk to not notice the fact that you were looking at my tits earlier."

He nearly choked on his beer from your comment, clearing his throat to try and cover it up, a flush of pink crawling up the back of his neck. "I was just observing. Come on, in that tiny dress you're wearing, can you even blame me?"

"Mmhm." You hum, and Rafe could tell that you didn't believe him, and he's not doing a good job at hiding the fact that he was absolutely not just "observing", and he was now starting to believe that you were more sober than he previously believed, judging by the smartass attitude you were sporting.

"Since when did you get so mouthy?" He said, leaning his back on the wall of the balcony, the beer lazily hanging on his hand as he tried to sound nonchalant and unaffected by the fact that he was basically just openly admiring a large part of your chest for a good few minutes, his eyes still occasionally going to your chest when he couldn't resist the urge to look.

"Since when did you start checking me out?" You lifted your brows, taking a sip out of your solo cup. A part of your brain was telling you that this little game was a bad idea, but another part of you didn't really care.

Rafe gives you a defeated huff in response, setting his beer bottle down and bringing his hand up to rub his face. You'd always been quick-witted, and it was so incredibly unfair. His eyes dart over to you again, his shoulders sagging a bit as he finally gives in. "Okay, fine, I was looking."

"Knew it." You chuckled, and he rolled his eyes, annoyed over how much enjoyment you were getting from the entire situation, his reaction only causing you to laugh even more, causing Rafe to get even more irritated, even though he'd never actually get annoyed with you, it all simply made him think of all the ways he'd love to shut you up.

Finally, he decides that he's had enough of you teasing him and bruising his ego, and so he decides to do the most logical and mature thing that came to his mind, and attempt to get back at you. Rafe lifts his arm up and slides his arm around your waist, pulling your back against his chest, a sly grin on his face.

You're surprised by the sudden movement, your eyes widening as you feel your heart start beating faster in your chest, but before you could protest, he has you effectively trapped. His arm is wrapped around you, his hand resting on your hip as you were flush against his chest, his hot breath close to your ear. "Maybe I was looking, what about it?" He says in a low, teasing tone, causing shivers to run down your spine.

"Rafe..." You breathe out quietly, making him smirk as he hears you say his name, the sound of it sending excitement throughout his body. Rafe gives you a gentle squeeze, resting his other hand on your thigh, his fingers idly tracing the exposed skin there as he starts lifting the hem of your dress. "Yes?" He says, feigning innocence, even though it was obvious that he was purposely trying to get a rise out of you.

"Your girlfriend is inside."

"She won't mind..." Rafe mutters, dismissing your concern, his hand still tracing over your thigh, lifting your hem even further. He's well aware that he's being completely inappropriate and disrespectful towards Sofia, but for once, he can't bring himself to care.

"Oh, she definitely would."

He simply rolled his eyes, even though he knows you have a point. He doesn't make a habit of being unfaithful, even if it's something simple like this, but something about you, something about that moment, whether it be your cherry-scented skin, the alcohol, or the weed, something is making him want to go against all of that. "You're a pain in my ass, you know that?"

You simply chuckled, shaking your head. "And you, or a part of you, is poking at my ass."

His breath hitched when he heard you say that, now becoming aware of the tent in his pants as you pressed your ass closer to his erection, a groan leaving his lips, shutting his eyes for a second, just trying to keep his cool. "You're like a little devil on my shoulder..." He muttered, his fingers slowly trailing to the inside of your thigh. Rafe couldn't help but be curious over how far you'd let it go, and the fact that you hadn't protested or told him to stop yet was just making him more and more eager to push it, the erection in his pants straining his boxers more and more.

"Your girlfriend is still inside, you know." You said quietly, your breath hitching as you felt his hand slowly traveling towards where you wanted him the most, and a part of you was embarrassed over the fact that he'd soon know just how wet you were already when he hadn't even touched you.

"I'm aware." Rafe mumbled, his hand giving your thigh another firm squeeze, his fingers slowly approaching the edge of your panties. He gives your shoulder a small bite, causing you to gasp and throw your head back, his lips brushing against his ear. "Why haven't you told me to stop, then?"

"Maybe I'm trying to see how long it takes for you to come back to your senses, Rafe..."

He huffs, a small scoff leaving his mouth. He knows you're trying to make him see reason, but the more you're pressed against him, your ass practically on his lap, the more common sense is leaving him. "You're the only person to ever drive me this crazy, you know that?"

"I'm sure your girlfriend wouldn't appreciate hearing that..."

"She definitely wouldn't..." He mumbled, his hand sliding closer to your core, rubbing the skin of your thigh softly as you let out a low breath, enjoying the way his long fingers felt on the skin of your thigh. You're so close, he can smell the vanilla shampoo in your hair, and the cherry-scented perfume you always wear, your scent driving him absolutely insane. "I don't care. I don't care about anything right now, Except you."

Rafe knows he's not making any sense, and he knows you've got some kind of power over him, because he's seriously contemplating just saying to hell with everything else. "You're making a mistake..." You breathe out slowly, but not making a single move to try and get away from him, enjoying the feel of his muscular body around you.

"I know. I know I'm making a mistake. But you're making me crazy, and I can't think straight around you, and I need you."

"You're gonna regret it, Rafe..."

He groans against your skin, his arms wrapping around you tighter, his body acting completely on instinct right now. He knows you're right, he knows he's going to regret this once he comes back to his senses, but he can't bring himself to care right now. He just needs you right now- consequences be damned. His lips and teeth continue to work on the sensitive skin of your neck, marking you with his lips and teeth, wanting so badly to just lift you up and take you in. "I need you..."

"Rafe, where would we even..."

He lets out a low growl, a sting of arousal and lust shooting through his body, his brain struggling to think of a space without anyone around. "Closet, bathroom, somewhere, I don't care, I just need to be in you before I lose my mind."

"Alright, bathroom..."

And before you could even register what was going on, Rafe had roughly pulled you into a bathroom, quickly locking the door behind you, his hands all over your body, groping and gripping at any flesh his hands could find. He pushed you against the sink, lifting you up to sit on it.

"We gotta be quiet... and quick..."

"Don't have to tell me twice..." He muttered, one hand already slipping under the hem of your dress, and when you felt his hand start rubbing circles on your clit through your panties, you let out a whimper, so glad to finally feel some kind of friction, and he chuckled, that familiar grin on his face. "God, you're so soaked I can feel it through your panties... You're more desperate than you seem..."

"Rafe..." You bite down on your lip, watching as he unbuckled his belt, letting his pants fall down to the floor before he pulled you down from the sink, pressing his lips on yours, his hand in your hair as his tongue slips in your mouth, tasting you, his hands gripping your hair desperately while his body pressed against yours in a possessive manner, his tongue exploring your mouth, his hands roaming over your curves before he pulls away from the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your mouths.

He turned you around, his hands gripping your hips as you faced the mirror. "Bend over..." Rafe said in a commanding tone, causing shivers to run down your spine as you bent over the sink, seeing both of you in the mirror, Rafe looking over your body appreciatively as he lifted up the hem of your dress to rest above your ass, his hand traveling down to rest on your ass cheek, cupping it before delivering a sharp smack onto it, causing a squeal to leave your lips as he chuckled, bending to whisper into your ear. "Gotta be quiet, princess."

Rafe pulled back, slowly bringing your panties down your legs before standing back up, pressing so close to you that you could feel his erection through his boxers, one of his hands going down to your pussy, spreading your folds apart in a way that caused you to gasp before ending up on your wetness-covered clit, slowly rubbing circles on it.

You closed your eyes as you bit down on your lip, holding onto the sink, but when Rafe's hand stopped their ministrations, it caused a quiet whine to leave your lips. "Why'd you stop...?"

"I want you to keep your eyes open." He said, and his other hand was now on your chin, making you look at your reflection. "I want you to see how pretty you look when my fingers are pleasuring you... I want you to see how you look when you come on my cock." The idea caused a soft gasp to leave your lips as he delivered a light smack on your pussy "Are you gonna do that for me?"

"Yeah..." You said, and although your eyes were half-lidded, you could see yourself in the mirror, your eye makeup smeared slightly from the wetness in your eyes, your lipstick now almost completely gone. And as you looked at your reflection, you felt Rafe's hand travel down to your pussy once again.

You felt his erection pressing against your ass as he worked your clit with his fingers while you bit down on your lip to stop the moans that were desperate to escape your lips, trying to focus on the faint sound of music you could hear outside the bathroom instead of the way you looked in the mirror, or the way he was turning you into putty in his hands by simply rolling your clit around with his long digits.

"Rafe..."

"Yeah, baby...?" He asked, his fingers picking up their pace as he looked at you in the mirror, pressing hot kisses on the back of your neck, causing shivers to run down your spine.

"I'm close..."

And as those words left your lips, his fingers stopped, causing a disappointed whine to leave your lips as he took a few steps away from you. "Why'd you do that?"

"Because..." He said, releasing himself from his boxers as he stroked his thick, veiny cock with a low groan, preparing himself for you as a drop of precum glimmered under the yellow bathroom light. "I told you I'm gonna make you watch as you come on my cock, didn't I?"

"Yeah..." You sighed, and he got closer to you once again, his large hand coming between your legs, pushing them further apart. His fingers came to your folds, finding your entrance, already slick with your wetness, reminding you of just how close you had been to coming until he stopped you, and he let out a small 'tsk' noise, causing you to purse your lips

He ran his tip over your folds, causing a loud gasp to leave your lips as he positioned the head of his cock at your entrance, every part of your body desperate to have him in you, to feel him fill you. "Say please..." He whispered into your ear huskily, causing a small whine to leave your lips.

"Please..."

And with that, he pushed his entire length into you, not caring how rough it was, causing a loud squeal to leave your lips before he brought his hand to your mouth, covering it. "Gotta be quiet..." He said, his cock still buried inside of you. "You gonna be a good, quiet girl for me, or do you not wanna come?"

You nodded furiously, your eyes stinging with tears, and he pulled his hand away from your mouth at the same time as he pulled himself out of you, before snapping his hips forward, once again filling you as you bit down on your lip, sure you were going to draw blood.

Rafe's grip on your hips was bruising, and he picked up his pace as you desperately tried to keep quiet, one of his hands moving to grab your ass roughly, while his other hand stayed on your hip in a bruising grip, keeping you still. You looked at your reflection in the mirror, Rafe having turned you into nothing but a panting, whimpering mess, so desperate to feel him as he pounded into you. "Do you have any idea what kind of an effect you have on me?" He groaned as he repeatedly hit your cervix, one of your own hands going to cover your mouth to keep yourself quiet, feeling yourself falling apart. "You're such a brat, teasing me, then coming apart this easily for me..."

You gripped the sink, steadying yourself as he made you watch as he filled you up, his hand gripping your hair roughly, bringing your head up so you could get a better look at yourself in the mirror, so desperate for him, to feel him inside of you. His entire mind was completely consumed by you, his entire body focused on the way you felt around him, the way your hips snapped against his, the squelching noise that filled the bathroom as he pounded his cock into your sopping wet cunt.

He could feel himself getting closer, the pleasure building inside of him, his body shaking with need as he brought one of his hands to your pussy, his fingers continuing the ministrations he had started on your clit earlier while his other hand gripped onto your hip tightly, digging into your skin, his body moving against yours in a steady, but erratic rhythm. He buried his face against your neck, breathing in the sweet scent of your skin, his mind consumed with nothing but you.

"Fuck, Rafe..." You breathe out, and he moans lowly at the sound of your voice, his voice shaking with pleasure as he pounds into you, the sound of your voice like a fire to his senses as he moved faster and faster, his need for you almost becoming overwhelming.

"Say it again... Say my name..."

"Rafe..."

He groans at the sound of his name from your lips, your voice like a drug to his senses, his fingers working your clit faster, his mind getting hazier. The sounds of your bodies moving together, the sound of your voice, the feel of you in his arms, it's all becoming too much for him to handle. "One more time... say it one more time..."

"Rafe, I'm so close..." You whine, "Please, let me come..."

He gasps at the sound of his name from your lips again, a low moan escaping his mouth as his body trembles with pleasure over the way you were pleading for him to let you come as he buries his face against your neck, his body shaking against yours as he pressed sloppy kisses on the back of your neck. "Come for me, baby... Wanna see you come on my cock..."

As his fingers picked up their pace on your clit, you couldn't help but let out a moan, releasing your bottom lip from between your teeth as you felt yourself come undone, looking at your reflection, your lips trembling as you felt yourself clench around Rafe's cock, your release washing over your entire body, every vein in your body feeling as if they were lit on fire by him.

Rafe let out a low groan from behind you as he looked at the reflection, the sight of you combined with your clenching cunt around him causing him to be sent over the edge, his body trembling as he reached his own orgasm, his release spilling into you as he buried his face against the back of your neck, his breaths coming in ragged gasps.

He held you tightly against him, his body shaking from the intensity and his mind consumed with the aftershocks of his release, Rafe muttering soft curses against your skin, his mind a tangled mess of pleasure and confusion.

Your hair was sticking to your face, a sheen of sweat now covering your skin, your makeup smeared, yet you looked so pretty to him, all ruined, a mess he created. When he pulled out of you, you let out a small whine, but before any of his cum could drip out of your pussy, he pulled your panties up, delivering a soft smack to your ass before he covered it with the hem of your dress, pulling up his own boxers along with his pants.

He turned you around to face him, his thumb brushing against your bottom lip as his hand cupped your cheek. "Didn't I tell you that you'd look so pretty coming on my cock, huh?"

"You did." You chuckled softly, rolling your eyes.

"Don't roll your eyes at me, brat." Rafe grins at you, biting down on his bottom lip. "Or I'm gonna have to punish you..." his words caused you to shiver as you leaned into his touch until he spoke up again, "I'm gonna go back to the party, and I want you to take a moment to fix your pretty face, and then come out there, where no one knows you're full of my cum... is that clear?"

You looked up at him with wide eyes before nodding. "Y-yeah..."

"Good girl." Rafe said, pressing a soft kiss on your lips, before slowly pulling himself away from you, taking one more appreciative look at your figure before walking out of the bathroom, leaving you there, your head still spinning and your pussy full of his cum.

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daisymbin · 1 month ago

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silent confessions - choi seungcheol

warnings: none! fluff

pairings: situationship!cheol x reader

grenre: jealous cheol!

wc: 1.2k

a/n: yall thank you for 100 followers 🥺 I'll be posting a prompt list soon for reqs! in the meanwhile you can enjoy this and my drunken confessions series!

check out my masterlist!

seungcheol prided himself on being secure in your relationship situationship. he trusted you and he knows you would never betray his trust, he most definitely also trusted his members but tonight? watching you and mingyu sit so closely on the sofa & laughing together across the room as if it were just the two of you, his usually steady, calm and confident composure started to crack.

the evening had started normally: just a simple bbq night by the pool and drinks were poured generously throughout the night. seungcheol had taken his usual seat beside you, that was until jeonghan pulled him away for a game of table tennis.

but somewhere along the way, mingyu had sidled up next to you without seungcheol noticing with a drink in hand. it had started innocently enough: mingyu cracking a joke, his arm thrown around your shoulders as he bubbled with laughter, causing you to lean in closer. too close for seungcheol's liking.

seungcheol felt his jaw tighten as mingyu’s arm lingered a beat too long on you, his fingers brushing your shoulder, leaving seungcheol feeling an uncomfortable sprout of irritation.

“you’re staring,” jeonghan’s voice snapped seungcheol out of his thoughts, leaning over with a knowing smirk as he handed seungcheol another drink.

“i’m not staring,” seungcheol mumbled, looking away, as he accepted jeonghan's drink, but he couldn’t help the way his gaze drifted back, “I'm simply observing.” mingyu was leaning in again, his head now resting on your shoulder as he whispered something in your ear, and whatever he said must’ve been funny, because you laughed, the kind of laugh that made your eyes crinkle at the corners and your shoulders shake; the kind of laugh that seungcheol hopes is only reserved for him.

“sure, you’re not.” jeonghan chuckled, giving him a light pat on the shoulder. “you know, if you’re that jealous, then maybe you should do something about it.”

seungcheol wanted to brush it off, to tell himself that mingyu was just being mingyu; friendly, a little too flirty after a few drinks, but harmless. yet every time he looked back, mingyu’s hand was still there, his voice just a little too soft, his smile a little too warm. and every time you laughed or leaned in closer, seungcheol felt that spark of jealousy flare hotter.

finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. with a sharp exhale, he set his drink down and stood up, ignoring the amused glance jeonghan threw his way. he crossed the room, his steps purposeful, heart pounding in his chest as he walked towards you.

“hey,” he said, forcing a casual smile as he stopped beside you, refusing to let his jealousy show. his voice came out a little sharper than he intended. “having fun?”

you looked up at him, your smile widening as he came into sight. “cheol-ah! actually. mingyu was just telling me some wild story about the last time he got drunk really drunk. apparently, he had embarrassed himself in front of a really pretty girl that he liked and-”

“and way too much of my dignity lost in the process,” mingyu finished with a laugh, grinning up at seungcheol, clearly unaware of the tension simmering beneath the surface. “but hey, she still fell for my charms in the end and went out on a date with me so did i really lose anything?”

seungcheol’s gaze flickered to mingyu, his smile tight. “sure.” but he couldn’t help the way his hand found its way to the lower of your back, his fingers playing with the fabric of your shirt, a subtle claim he hoped mingyu would catch. “didn’t think you'd steal her away from me all night.”

mingyu’s eyebrows shot up, but he laughed, unaffected as always. “come on, hyung, you know i’m just having fun.” his eyes sparkled mischievously as he looked at you, leaning closer with a smirk. “but hyung, if you don’t make it official soon, i might just have to steal her for myself.” the words were teasing, lighthearted. but something about the way mingyu said it made seungcheol’s blood run cold, his heart skipping a beat. mingyu was joking, he knew that. but the casual way he said it, the way you just laughed, oblivious to the effect it was having on seungcheol, made something snap.

“oh, don’t worry,” seungcheol replied, his voice coming out low, almost a growl. he shifted even closer, the warmth of his body pressing against you as he shot mingyu a look that left no room for interpretation. “i’ve got it handled.”

the smile faded from mingyu’s face, his eyes widening slightly as he looked between the two of you, finally seeming to catch on. “well, if that’s the case… i’ll leave you two to it, then.” he raised his hands in mock surrender, chuckling teasingly as he excused himself to the other side of the room.

the second mingyu walked away, you turned to seungcheol, raising an eyebrow. “what was that about?”

seungcheol hesitated, suddenly aware of the weight of his actions. he hadn’t meant to be so territorial, so obvious, you were both…not in a relationship afterall. but seeing you with mingyu, laughing and talking like that… it had stirred something in him he couldn’t ignore.

he cleared his throat, trying to gather his thoughts. “i just… didn’t like how close he was getting.”

you tilted your head, a faint smile playing on your lips. “close? seungcheol, mingyu’s like that with everyone. you know that.”

“yeah, but… it felt different.” he glanced away, embarrassed, his cheeks warming under your gaze. “maybe i overreacted, but seeing him with you, laughing and joking like that… i didn’t like it. not when i…”

you waited, watching him with patient curiosity, and he felt his pulse quicken, the words on the tip of his tongue. it would be so easy to say it. to tell you that he wanted to be the one making you laugh, that he couldn’t stand the thought of anyone else trying to claim that spot.

“not when i…” he paused, swallowing hard. “i just… i care about you, alright? more than i probably should.”

your eyes softened, a warmth in your gaze that made his heart stutter. “seungcheol,” you murmured, reaching out to touch his arm. “you don’t have to be jealous. you know i’d rather be here with you, right?”

his heart soared at your words, relief washing over him. “yeah?”

“yeah,” you replied, smiling up at him, your fingers lingering on his arm. “so maybe next time, instead of hovering and glaring at mingyu, you could just… tell me, & maybe also tell me how you really feel about me?" you teased

he laughed, feeling the tension melt away as he instantly gets your hint, his chest lighter than it had been all night, knowing that you asking him to tell you how he really feels about you is you telling him you feel the same way, “yeah, maybe i could.”

you smiled, and without a word, you slipped your hand into his, fingers intertwining with his as naturally as if they belonged there all along. the warmth of your touch sent a thrill through him, a silent promise that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t have to keep his feelings a secret anymore.

and as you sat there together, hand in hand, he realized that the jealousy, the frustration; it had all been worth it. because now, he knew he wasn’t alone in this.

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estrellami-1 · 2 years ago

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Falling

(ao3 link)

Dedicated to @madigoround, my one constant Steddie cheerleader. I hope you like it! ❤️

It’s said if you truly want to get to know someone, tell them no. Watch how they act when they’re angry, when they’re sick, when they’re wrecked by grief.

The truth is, Eddie thinks, the way to truly get to know someone is to watch them when they think they’re not being watched.

So, Eddie watches people. He watches Tommy Hagan ascend the ranks of social hierarchy, climbing closer and closer to the top of the totem pole until he reaches the zenith and finds himself stuck with fake friends and a fake life. He’s mean, in the way that Eddie knows someone is mean to him and he doesn’t know how to handle it.

Eddie leaves him alone, ignores him best he can, and hopes Tommy will have the dignity to do the same.

He watches Carol Perkins, faux-model that she is, use her body like a weapon, like a credit card. He knows that she knows that way only heartbreak lies. No one moves to stop her. Eddie knows she’s hurtling towards self-destruction. He knows she’s ignored at home.

He watches Steve Harrington. His ascent to popularity, then in the blink of an eye, his fall. How easily he shrugs off the mantle of King Steve, starts carting around middle schoolers.

How he flinches at loud sounds, abrupt movements, flickering lights.

Steve Harrington intrigues Eddie, is the thing. And Eddie’s never been the type to deny his intrigues. So he studies the fallen king more.

Some things make sense, after spring break. Some things don’t.

Steve has three smiles: the real one, the one everybody thinks is real, and the fake customer service one. He hardly ever uses the first. He’ll use the second a lot. The kids are dipshits, brash in the way only a teenager can be, unaware and uncaring of the effect their words have. Specifically, the effect their words have on Steve.

When they make jokes about his intelligence, Steve will force on a little half-smile, an unaffected air, even as his shoulders slump inward and his chin tips down.

Eddie sees it. He also sees what Steve looks like, eyes wide and wild, grinning and gesturing freely, as he discusses basketball with Lucas or football with Uncle Wayne. Eddie understands the stats he somehow manages to keep track of (even Eddie has notebooks for all his character sheets and all the math everything requires. He’s forgotten, more than once, how he’d done something for a past campaign, and digs through his notebooks until he finds it. But Steve pulls the numbers out of thin air, hardly even pausing as he finds them in his mental filing cabinet, and Eddie is impressed, to say the least). He knows Steve’s smart, even if it’s in a different way than the kids are used to.

He makes a point to mention it. Steve’s over watching the game with Wayne, and Eddie whistles as he listens in to their conversation from the kitchen where he’s making lunch. “That’s some memory,” he says, shaking his head. “I know I couldn’t keep all that straight.”

Steve blinks at him. “What, like all your D&D people?”

“Characters. You don’t want to see the amount of notebooks I have, trying to keep everything straight, and it still ends up all going to hell when I can’t find something.” He raises a challenging brow, daring Steve to argue.

Steve just laughs and leans back into the couch. “Whatever, man, I still think it’s impressive. I’ve been watching for years, it just kinda makes sense that I’d remember a few facts.”

“A few?” Eddie’s eyes light up. “Wayne, quiz him.”

Wayne snorts. “What’m I, your errand boy?”

“Yes,” Eddie says, just to be contrary. He grins at the snicker it pulls from Steve. “Please, Wayne?”

Wayne narrows his eyes at Eddie, then softens his gaze when he moves it over to Steve. “You up for it?”

Steve chuckles. “Sure, I guess. It’d be nice to see how much I actually know.”

For the next few minutes, Wayne gives a name and within a few seconds, Steve’s answered with stats about that person.

Eddie, ever the competitive soul, ends up invested, grinning and high-fiving Steve when Wayne runs out of names. “Knew it,” he said, happily noting the blush making its home on Steve’s cheeks.

“Ha,” Eddie jokes later, ribbing Dustin because he can. “Kiddo, that was worse than-” he thinks for a few seconds, then sighs and raises his voice. “Steve? Who was the guy who did the thing you and Wayne were mad about?”

Dustin judges him with his eyebrows. “Even if Steve had any idea what you’re saying, what makes you think he’d know-”

“Phil Simms,” Steve called back from the kitchen. “Great player, actually, just wrong team.”

Eddie hummed, enjoying the shocked look on Dustin’s face. “Nah, not quite doing it. Who’s the losingest team?”

Losingest team, Dustin mouths, mocking. Eddie notes that he doesn’t actually say anything this time, though.

“Depends. Jets started at ten to one, then lost their final five games. But the Giants beat the Redskins 17 to zero. They also beat the 49ers 49—heh—to three, but that was earlier in the season, and no one expected San Francisco to win anyways.” He walks out of the kitchen, wiping his hands with a towel, a thoughtful look on his face. “Does any of that help?”

“Absolutely,” Eddie says, even though he has zero idea what Steve actually said. He’s staring, smug grin firmly affixed to his face, at Dustin.

Lucas, over on the couch, sits up straight and stares at Steve. “Did you see Montana’s comeback?”

Steve grins. “Fuckin’ wild, man, but I kinda hate Walsh for letting him. Like, I’ve been there, right? And that was…” he shakes his head. “Not good. Yeah, it’s been weeks, whatever, but an injury like that?” Steve crosses his arms, shakes his head.

Eddie stares, enraptured. Obsessed. Maybe, possibly, falling.

When the kids make jokes about Steve’s appearance, he’ll put a hand to the back of his neck and rub, force down the blush, avoid eye contact.

Eddie knows Steve’s not shy. So he doesn’t understand why Steve reacts like that until one day he compliments Steve. It’s a simple little line, you have gold in your hair, but Steve beams. Eddie’s left wondering about the difference, realizes there’s a certain type of compliment Steve’s received all his life, that probably ended up less than welcome at some point.

So Eddie makes it his life’s mission to make Steve beam the way he had the first time.

One time they’re out lounging by the pool while the kids splash around, beers in hand, talking about everything and nothing. Steve tips his head back to take a drink and Eddie realizes something. He leans forward to get a better look. “Your eyes are hazel,” he says delightedly, grinning at the flush rapidly showing on Steve’s cheeks.

Steve looks like he’d very much like to take a page out of Eddie’s book and hide behind his hair in that moment. He hides behind his beer instead, takes another sip as he waits for his face to get back under control. “Are they?” He asks, like he doesn’t know. He’s such a little shit. Eddie’s obsessed.

Another time, Eddie breaks in (is it breaking in if everyone and their mother knows where Steve puts the spare key?) and starts making breakfast while Steve’s out on a run. He almost swallows his tongue when Steve walks back in, sweaty and flushed, wearing shorts that God Himself must have sculpted just for Steve.

Instead of saying that, Eddie adopts an unaffected face and raises a brow. “Pretty sure there’s a fine for public indecency, sweetheart, and those shorts break about eight of those rules. ‘Course, no one’s gonna say anything when they’re on you.”

Steve laughs, light and happy as he accepts the water Eddie hands him. “And why’s that?”

“Because I think you single-handedly caused every gay crisis on the police force.”

Steve laughs hard enough he snorts, and Eddie’s immediately hellbent on hearing that sound again. “That so?” He asks, then pauses. “Wait, what the fuck are you doing in my kitchen?”

Eddie shrugs, like it should be obvious. “Making breakfast. I wanted pancakes.”

“And you couldn’t make them at your place?”

Eddie just shrugs, a smile playing on his lips. Steve badly hides his grin as he shakes his head and turns around, citing a need for a shower as he heads upstairs. “Don’t burn the house down!”

“Betrayal!” Eddie yells back, grinning when Steve cackles again.

Eddie stares as Steve walks upstairs, enraptured. Obsessed. Maybe, probably, falling.

Eddie studies Steve. Studies him and watches him more and more. His mannerisms, his interactions with others. And he realizes something very interesting: Steve’s always the one to reach out.

He tugs Dustin into a teasing headlock, rubs his knuckles over the top of his head. Flings his arm over Lucas’s shoulders, pokes at Mike until he responds, bumps Will’s elbow with his own. Brushes his fingers over Max’s arm, pulls El into a hug. Robin is the only person who consistently pulls Steve into a hug, and even so, most of the time it’s teasing; a quick, sharp thing, jerky movements and practically pushing him away when she’s done.

So Eddie starts. Brushes his hand across Steve’s shoulders as he’s walking by. Poking at Steve’s cheeks to get a reaction. Quick, tight hugs, at first.

Or… that was the plan. The first time he pulls Steve into a hug, they’re alone, because Eddie does not want to have to deal with Dustin and his dramatics in that moment. So Eddie pulls Steve in, arms flung around him and squeezing in a half-joking manner, and Steve practically melts.

“Jesus fuck,” Eddie mutters, stumbling a little. “You good, Stevie?”

Steve pulls back, a blush making its way across his cheeks. “Yeah. Sorry. It- it won’t happen again.”

Eddie frowns. “How the fuck is that what you got from it?”

Steve shrugs. “I know I can be… well, Nancy called it clingy, and I’ve had a few girlfriends in the past who called it clingy, and if it looks like a rose and smells like a rose, then…”

“Shit, Steve, no, that’s not- what the fuck were your girlfriends on? Why would they call that clingy? That’s not- Christ, Steve, if that’s clingy, sign me up. Seriously. Just warn me next time, we don’t all have the body of a Greek god, we can’t all carry our somewhat-acquaintances out of hell.” He grins at Steve, a half-thing that grows when Steve tentatively grins back.

“Body of a Greek god?”

“Oh, don’t go fishing for compliments, I know you, you’re not that shallow.” He rolls his eyes, smiles. Tentatively places his hands on Steve’s arms, just above his wrists. “You hear of something called touch-starved?”

Steve cautiously looks him in the eye. “I can guess,” he finally says, and Eddie pulls him into another hug.

This one lasts for something close to a minute, and Eddie ignores it when Steve takes a step back and molds his face back into shape. “Anytime,” he says quietly, like a promise. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Steve agrees.

It happens again a week later.

Everyone’s over for Hellfire. Steve was in the kitchen, had been there practically since everyone had trickled in.

There’s a quiet clatter, an even quieter shit, then a pause before Steve heaves a sigh. “Eddie?”

Eddie furrows his brows in concern, motions for everyone to stay where they are, then makes his way into the kitchen, seeing Steve gripping the edge of the sink. “Steve?”

“I’ve been having a shit day,” he starts. “If… if you meant what you said. Last time?”

“Anytime,” Eddie swears. “Hey, Stevie, c’mon, the sink’s not going anywhere, let’s let go, yeah? Wanna stay down here or go upstairs?”

Steve makes an irritated noise in the back of his throat. “Your game-”

“Will be there later,” Eddie finishes. “Here or upstairs?” Steve shakes his head, a sharp movement, and Eddie recognizes it. “Want me to pick?”

“Please.”

“Upstairs. Can you do it yourself?”

Steve makes another guttural noise, pulls away from the sink, and marches upstairs.

Eddie follows. All the way upstairs, into Steve’s room, pausing to close and lock the door. “We’re safe,” he says quietly, and opens his arms. “Stevie?”

Steve trembles as he allows himself to be hugged, hands fisting in the back of Eddie’s shirt, head guided to the junction of Eddie’s neck and shoulder.

Eddie pets a solid hand down Steve’s back, squeezing at his waist for a moment before bringing it up again, just below his neck. “It’s okay,” he murmurs. “We’re all okay, we’re all safe. What’re you seeing, Stevie?”

Steve takes a breath. It only stutters a little. “Had a dream ‘bout you last night,” he admits. “Kinda fucked me over.”

Eddie’s heart clenches. “I’m here,” he promises, and guides them onto the bed. “D’you want to be on top or bottom?”

He feels Steve’s brows scrunch against his shoulder. “What?”

“Some people need the pressure of someone on them. It’s grounding. For some, it’s too much.”

“Oh,” Steve mutters. “You on top.”

Eddie bites his tongue on the joke that wants to come out. “M’kay, c’mon, then, still not the one with the body of a Greek god.”

He feels Steve’s tentative smile as they roll over, a breath huffed into his chest. “Always liked Apollo.”

��God of the sun,” Eddie agrees. “Suits you.” He gets his arms out from under Steve, puts them on his shoulders. “This work?”

Steve hums. His eyes are shut. “Didn’t wanna take you from your game. Sorry.”

“And I told you it’ll be there later. If you need something, I want to help you get it. Simple as that.”

Steve sighs, tips his head to the side. His chin brushes the back of Eddie’s hand, and he does it again. “This works.”

“Steve,” Eddie says, watching Steve brush his chin over the back of his hand. “If there’s something you want, I need you to ask for it. I can’t read your mind.” Steve’s brows furrow as his eyes open, and Eddie clicks his tongue. “Close your eyes.” They drop shut again, and he nudges the back of his hand a little harder against Steve’s chin. “What do you want?”

Steve sighs again, gathering courage. “Want you to play with my hair.”

Eddie’s heart skips a beat. He brushes his hand up, traces the line of Steve’s silhouette, up his chin, his nose, around his eye. Drags the backs of his fingers across his forehead, surreptitiously checking for a fever. Nothing. Steve relaxes back into the pillows.

Eddie gets a hand in Steve’s hair and tugs gently, releasing to scrape his fingertips over Steve’s scalp. Revels in the hum Steve lets out. “Sunshine boy,” he murmurs. “Who takes care of you?”

“Sunshine boy?”

Eddie smiles softly, even though Steve’s eyes are still closed. “Gold hair, gold eyes. My own personal Apollo.”

Steve smiles. “You’re Dionysus.”

“Mm. God of drunken joy and madness.”

“And theater.”

“Oh, yes, how could I ever forget one of the billion things one of the billion gods was known for.”

Steve snorts. “Thank you,” he murmurs, hands brushing Eddie’s waist. “I shouldn’t need this. Any of it.”

Eddie cards his hand through Steve’s hair again. “But you do.”

“But I do,” Steve agrees with a sigh. “And you just… you’re selfless.”

“Only when it comes to you.”

Steve snorts. “You’re full of shit.”

“Yup. Selfless and full of shit. Sounds about right.”

“Oh my god,” Steve laughs, cracking open an eye to look at him. They both still, caught in each other’s gaze, realizing just how close they are to each other.

Slowly, so slowly, Steve looks away. “Go back to your game,” he whispers. “I’ll be down in a minute.”

“Okay,” Eddie responds at the same volume, and slowly gets up. He lifts his hand off the doorknob when Steve calls his name. “Yeah?”

“Stay? After?”

“Sunshine boy,” he says again, just to get that smile. “Yeah, Stevie. I’ll stay after.”

After comes sooner than either of them expect, but Dustin got sloppy, and what’s the point of one-shots if not to throw them to the wind when it all goes to shit, so there’s a lot of good-natured ribbing and thoughtless decisions and uncaring dice rolls before it ends and everyone’s packing up.

Dustin’s mom comes to pick up everyone who didn’t drive there, because she’s an angel of a woman, and Eddie makes excuses for why he’s staying until finally he doesn’t have to, it’s just him and Steve, and Steve’s looking at him with the softest smile and something that looks like adoration shining in his eyes.

Eddie opens his mouth to start, then shuts it with a shake of his head. “C’mon,” he says finally. “Let’s go sit on the couch.”

Eddie sits first, and Steve stands, hands wringing one another, until Eddie leans forward, grabs them, and gently guides him to sit next to Eddie. “There.” He holds one of Steve’s hands in his. “Do you want to start, or should I?”

Steve worries his lip. “Do we need to talk about it? If we both know what we’re saying?”

Eddie grins. “So if I were to start talking about buying little party hats for raccoons…”

Steve snorts. “Okay, you ass, point taken.” His smile falls. “You’ve been… really nice to me, these past few months. And that’s not why, not at all, but it doesn’t exactly hurt either. I just…” he shakes his head. “Why me?”

“Why you what? Why am I nice to you? Why have I been taking care of you? Why-” the question sticks in his throat for half a second. “Why do I like you?”

Steve smiles, bashful, and looks down at their intertwined hands. “All of the above, basically.”

Eddie taps the back of Steve’s hand thoughtfully. They both watch the movement. “Because you’re worth it,” he says simply. “Because no one else does it. No one else sees what you do for them. No one else cares. I do. I don’t think I was given a choice, honestly, you looked at me and I was fuckin’ gone. And I’m gonna keep doing this until you believe me. Until you believe that you deserve to take up space, to exist, to have wants and opinions and preferences.”

“It might take a while.”

“I’ll be right here.”

“I might never fully believe it.”

“I’ll be here forever.” He pulls their intertwined hands up to press a kiss to the back of Steve’s.

“It sounds like a lot of boring work.” His voice is high, thready. There are tears in his eyes that fall when he blinks.

“Not to me. Not if it’s you.”

Watery eyes narrow at him. “Did you just quote a fucking Greek tragedy at me?”

“Uh. Maybe?”

Steve snorts, shakes his head, and leans in to lay his head on Eddie’s shoulder. “You’re such a dork.”

“Yeah, yeah. That’s old news, sweetheart.” He presses a kiss to the top of Steve’s head, feels his heart skip a beat when Steve responds by nuzzling his throat. “Is that it, then? We’re done talking?”

Steve sighs and tilts his head up so they can look at each other. “I like you too,” he says quietly. “Just… for the record. And I want this. And…” he bites his lip, then just as quickly releases it. “I wanna kiss you. Um. If that’s alright.”

“Sunshine boy,” Eddie murmurs. “Of course that’s alright. Get up here.” He pulls as Steve pushes up, meaning Steve overbalances and sprawls across Eddie’s lap. They stare, wide-eyed, at each other for a beat before bursting into laughter.

“Okay?” Eddie checks, even as Steve rights himself and scrambles the rest of the way onto Eddie’s lap, grinning as he plays with the hair at the nape of Eddie’s neck.

“Perfect.” His grin grows and a tiny little giggle slips out, like he’s so happy his body just can’t contain it all anymore. “I’m gonna kiss you.”

It’s less a warning, more an explanation for why he’s so happy, and it has Eddie’s heart full to bursting in his chest as he slips his hands just under the hem of Steve’s shirt to rest them directly on his waist. “You are,” he agrees. He almost jokes—not if I kiss you first—but knows Steve needs this. “Take your time,” he says instead, even though he feels like his heart is about to beat out of his chest, like he’s about to vibrate out of his own skin. His hands are steady, though, as are his eyes when he looks into Steve’s.

“Is it weird that I’m nervous?” He’s whispering now, so Eddie drops his voice to match.

“It’s a big thing. You’re allowed to be nervous. Is there any way I could help?”

Steve scrunches his nose up, then moves to rest their foreheads together. “Um. Close your eyes? Maybe?”

Eddie’s eyes immediately shut. “Take your time,” he promises. “Or we can wait. There’s no shame. I won’t be upset.”

“Yeah, but I will,” Steve jokes, and Eddie chuckles.

“There’s a movie,” he starts. “An old silent film that Wayne likes. I watched it with him because he said something about vamp, so of course my mind went to vampire. It wasn’t, to my dismay, but there’s a line. A seductress bewitches men by getting them to kiss her. One man’s about to kill her, like gun-to-the-head about to kill her, and she says kiss me, my fool.”

He can practically feel Steve’s grin. He can definitely hear it. “Which one am I?”

“Oh, definitely the seductress, have you seen yourself, sunshine? I’m the fool in this scenario. Or any scenario, really.”

Steve hums. “Dionysus.”

“Shut up.” He’s laughing, though, grinning at Steve’s giggle, then freezes when Steve’s lips land on the corner of his. “Oh,” he whispers when Steve pulls away.

Steve laughs softly, puts a thumb at the corner of one of Eddie’s eyes. “You can open your eyes.” He’s whispering again, and Eddie looks to see Steve staring at him, a small, wondering smile on his lips.

“Heya, sunshine,” he whispers, almost choking on the amount of emotions he feels.

“Hi.” He pauses, fidgets. “Can I kiss you for real?”

“Yeah. You want me to close my eyes?”

Steve shakes his head. “Just… kiss back.”

Eddie grins, wide and in love. “I was planning on it.”

Steve grins back, just as wide and just as happy. “Shut up.”

“And if I said make me…”

Steve giggles. “I might just have to,” he says before finally leaning in, slotting their lips together in a slow, sweet kiss.

He tastes like the pizza they’d been eating and the beer they’d been drinking, and underneath that is something so Steve, and Eddie wants to spend the rest of forever discovering that taste. When they pull apart, his eyes open—when had he closed them?—and land on Steve, who’s also in the process of opening his eyes. “Wow,” he murmurs, and Steve giggles as he rests their foreheads together again.

“Just about.”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Please,” Steve whispers, so Eddie wastes no time in sealing their lips together again. It’s still soft and slow and sweet, and Eddie focuses on making Steve relax against him. He cards a hand through Steve’s hair, squeezes a little at the nape of his neck, runs it down his back, down his side, to knead at his hips. In response, Steve hums into the kiss, shifting a little to let more of his weight rest on Eddie’s lap. Eddie does it again and again, thrilled at the feeling of Steve finally relaxing fully onto him. They both pull away, lips wine-dark and tender, and Steve smiles, eyes still closed, as Eddie runs his hand through his hair one more time. “Keep that up and I’m gonna fall asleep,” he murmurs, and Eddie’s heart skips a beat at the trust in his voice.

“Maybe that’s my plan,” he answers. “I seduced you just to get you to take better care of yourself.”

Steve’s smile widens. “That’s the only reason?”

“Obviously,” Eddie teases. “Well, that and the fact that I’m ridiculously into you, but that seems like a separate thing.”

“Right,” Steve agrees, giggling. He opens his eyes and presses a quick peck to Eddie’s nose. “I’m kinda ridiculously into you, too.”

“Well,” Eddie says, because out of everything, of course this would be what takes his words away. “Good.”

“Good,” Steve agrees, laying his head on Eddie’s shoulder.

Eddie leans back into the couch, adjusting his hold on Steve so he’s as comfortable as possible. “G’night,” he murmurs, brushing a kiss over Steve’s temple.

He can feel Steve’s lips lift into a smile. “Night, Eds.” He presses a kiss to Eddie’s neck, and Eddie smiles as he tilts his head back into the couch.

He stares up at the ceiling, enraptured. Obsessed. Maybe, definitely, falling.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #touch starved steve harrington #I don’t think I’ll ever write him another way honestly #stranger things #steddie fic #st fic #Eddie has the patience of a saint #(mostly he’s just in love)#Steve is struggling #honestly idk how else to tag this #starambles

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novastarrs · 10 months ago

Note

hiii!! could you do jock!clarisse x nerd!aphroditie!reader pls :))) and like clarisse bullies her but at the end they somehow become friends or like in love idk but if you can’t that’s okay! tyyy xxx!

YOU’RE MINE|| CLARISSE LA RUE

Warning: Horribly written make-out at the end (I apologize in advance), Cussing

Summary: You have to tutor your enemy and overtime she get’s jealous when you tutor someone else.

DNI IF YOURE OVER 19 DIOR IS A MINOR PEOPLE!!!

Nova Speaks: I don’t know how to feel about this but I hope you like it! The ending is kind of rushed and request are still open!

——

You didn’t consider yourself to be a nerd if you were being honest. You just didn’t want to fail all your classes and not get anywhere in life so you sucked it up and got your work done even if you really didn’t want too and because of that perfect attitude your teacher was making you tutor your mortal enemy.

Clarisse La Rue. Star quarterback with a big ego and even bigger muscles. The whole school loved her except for you. At first you had no hard feelings for the girl but when she tripped you in the hallway in front of everyone it was embarrassing as hell especially because she just laughed with her dumb crew and told you to watch where you were going.

Ever since that day you just stayed clear of the girl, it’s not like you guys were friends so there was no point in crossing paths with her.

But here you are sitting in your room waiting for the demon who haunted your thoughts everyday to come to your house so you could help her to her essay. If she didn’t get at least a C+ on it she was going to be forced to sit out of the game this weekend and even though you hated to admit it your school needed her.

You strictly told her to be at your house at 5:30 and not to be late but to no surprise she was. You were even considerate because football practice ends at 4:20 and you did the nice thing and let her go home and shower before showing up and she had the audacity to be late. You could’ve been binge watching your favorite show and making up dumb scenarios in your head.

Sighing heavily, you walked downstairs towards the kitchen to grab a snack out of the pantry. Your eyes moved back and forth as you browed through the delicious snacks that you had, trying to decide on what you wanted to eat.

The sound of the doorbell got your attention and you fought the urge to roll your eyes when you glanced at the clock on the microwave. It was almost six’o’clock and now she decides to show up. Walking over to the door slowly you opened it to reveal the one and only Clarisse La Rue in a pair of gray sweats and a blue crop top that hugged her arms just right, showing off all the muscle she had while her long bouncy curly hair was bulled back into a ponytail.

“Are you going to let me in or keep gawking at me?” She asked in a husky voice with a smirk on her face.

Your cheeks immediately went warm at her calling you out as you hurriedly stepped to the side to let her in. Closing the door behind her you made sure to lock the door before turning around, watching her look around your home.

“Nice place.” She nodded looking at you over her shoulder and you gave her a tight lipped smile.

“Thanks.” You nodded awkwardly not really knowing what to say, clearing your throat you asked. “Do you want a snack or something?”

Clarisse turned her body around to look at you and she not so secretly looked you up and down with a big cocky smirk forming on her face making you blush even harder than before.

“Yeah, I do actually.” She winked causing all the air to leave your lungs making you choke on air as she laughed loudly at your reaction.

“You’re disgusting.” You finally managed to choke out trying to act unaffected but you both knew you were making her smirk even wider.

“You’re the one that offered.”

“I meant food!”

“Sure you did, princess.”

——

“Writing an essay isn’t that hard if you have a good topic.” You began to explain as you sat beside her on the couch in your living room, scrolling through your laptop as she did the same on her own.

“But all these topics are boring.” Clarisse groaned lowly, throwing her head back with a huff. You leaned closer to her and looked at the list of prompts that your teacher gave your class to pick through and she wasn’t wrong the prompts were boring so you just did yours based off of your favorite hobby and why it wouldn’t be beneficial to teach at school.

“How about you do one about football?” You offered your assistance and Clarisse glanced at you.

“But it isn’t on the list.” She stated the obvious and you let out a light laugh making her confused.

“As long as you did the essay she shouldn’t be complaining. Most kids didn’t even do it.” You shrugged carelessly.

As long as the work is done and submitted your teacher shouldn’t have any complaints and if she did she can write the essay for Clarisse.

The quarterback looked at you with a look of disbelief on her face. She thought you did everything by the rules and didn’t take the easy way out of things but she could see she was indeed wrong about you.

“And here I thought you were a goody to shoes.” She cooed and you rolled your eyes but smiled at her.

“Just write something football related down as your prompt.” You nudged her jokingly and she did what she was told without putting up a fight.

Eventually she decided on why football was a great sport for high schoolers and to your surprise she had a lot of great ideas to support her argument. That’s when you realized Clarisse wasn’t dumb like you thought at first (not that you would ever tell her that) but that if it didn’t interest her, she couldn’t bring herself to do it if it was boring. So you made a mental reminder to speak to her teachers about adding football into their subjects because that’s what seemed to be what Clarisse was most passionate about.

If Clarisse was being honest she was pretty grateful for you. She’s been given tutors before and they all left her after the first session due to her not being interested in what they were saying but with you it was different. You actually listened and explained things in a way she could actually understand it without making her feel like she was stupid so that’s how you and Clarisse found yourselves meeting up every Friday afternoon at your place to work on school work together and if you were being honest sometimes you guys didn’t even do work, you talked and got to know each other better.

You learned her dad was a prick who left her and her mother when she was just a baby and because of his abandonment she had really bad anger issues which is why she joined the football team so she could get out all that pent up anger.

She learned that your mother was also a single mother who worked a lot of night shifts because she was a doctor so it was mostly you around the house and you tired to spend time with your mom as much as you could with her busy schedule.

You honestly thought helping her would’ve been a pain in the ass and that she wouldn’t do anything to entire time but it was the other way around. You were so focused on hating her for that one incident you didn’t realize how fun she was as a person and a great friend. Clarisse would be the one focused on getting her work done while you spoke about anything that came to mind and instead of judging you she just listened and added in her own comments here and there.

Due to your study sessions she stopped taunting you at school and to your surprise she actually comes up and talk to you in front of everyone. You just figured she would keep your friendship a secret from everyone so you wouldn’t ruin her reputation but you were wrong.

Her fan club that she gained over the year immediately despised you because they spent all their time trying to get her attention and you somehow managed to get it right away but the two of you didn’t care as long as you had each other to go to whenever you had a problem.

A friendship blossomed and everything was going great until you were asked to tutor another student. A girl named Amira who recently moved to town and she was a little behind and when your teacher saw how Clarisse’s D turned into A+ she immediately assigned you as Amira’s tutor and Clarisse hated it.

You were her tutor first so she doesn’t know why this random girl was trying to take all your attention away from her. At first she was fine with it as you found still hung out every friday but apparently Amira needed so much help that you had to cancel your usual friday hangouts to help Amira some more and that’s what sent Clarisse over the edge. She always looked forward to the end of the week because you were all her’s, all of your attention was on her and now it was gone and on someone else so she began playing her heart out on field and during practice, imagining all of the guys she tackled was Amira and her annoyingly high pitched voice.

Clarisse swore up and down that Amira begged you to tutor her on Friday nights just to get under her skin because when she asked you once and you agreed she looked at Clarisse and had the audacity to smirk and if Clarisse was being honest she was offended, who the hell does this girl think she is taking her girl like that.

You were quick to notice the change in Clarisse’s behavior when she started to become bitter and rude to you and if you were being honest it hurt.

Overtime you caught yourself getting feelings for the girl and you were honestly thinking she felt the same with how close the two of you became and how she would call you sweetheart or baby or when she simply just flirted with you but now you weren’t so sure. So you decided to ask your mom for advice Saturday night.

“-Now she’s being all snappy and mean.” You finished explaining everything to your mother as she got ready for her shift.

“Maybe she likes you.” Your mom said and you couldn’t help but scoff. Clarisse has never taken an interest in anyone and you were a fool to think she would like you.

“Trust me, she doesn’t.” You sighed sadly, bummed out about the situation. Clarisse was your best friend and it was killing you she was being a bitch.

Your mom walked over to you and sat a hand on your shoulder and gently made you look up at her. She smiled sweetly at you and leaned down to kiss your forehead with a dramatic kissing noise making you laugh.

“If you really want to know, you’re going to have to ask her, Sweetie. She’s the only one that has the answers you’re looking for.”

You silently let her words sink into your brain and nodded firmly. She was right, the only one who could give you an answer was Clarisse and you were determined to get one.

“You’re right, mama, thank you.” You hugged her tightly before kissing her goodbye as she grabbed her keys and left. Pulling your phone out of your pocket you sent Clarisse a very dramatic message saying that it was an emergency and that you were hurt.

You knew it was wrong to lie like that but it was the only way you could think of to get her to show up and to get here quickly and you were right because literally five minutes later you heard the familiar sound of her car pulling into your drive way and heavy knocks pounding on your front door. You opened the door and Clarisse immediately rushed past you, ranting and asking if you were ok.

“Are you hurt? Do I need to call your mom? The cops? Wait…do I have to call CPS-” Clarisse rambled and you looked at her like she just turned into a child.

“Clarisse,” You said sternly immediately getting her to shut up. “I’m fine.”

Clarisse paused and her concerned look immediately changed into a look of anger. “Princess, you don’t send a fucking message like that.”

Normally the nickname would’ve made you blush and act like a lovesick fool but instead you scoffed and crossed your arms, leaning your back against the door. “Well I wouldn’t have to if you weren’t ignoring me.”

You noticed her expression soften a little bit before it was immediately covered by her normal scowl that she gave everyone that wasn’t you, your mother and her’s.

“You don’t need me remember? You have Amira.” Clarisse said her name with a bitter tone and you looked at her confused.

“What the hell does Amira have to do with you ignoring me?” You huffed, puffing your lips out and Clarisse eyes immediately locked on them before they snapped back to your face.

“She’s your new best friend isn’t she?” Clarisse snapped and you looked at her in confusion before it suddenly clicked.

She was jealous, jealous of you and Amira spending so much time together that there wasn’t any left for her. It all made so much sense now, whenever you and Clarisse were talking at school and Amira came up to you guys you would always feel Clarisse stiffen up or the way she would mock Amira under her breath.

“You’re jealous.” You laughed with a smile forming on your face and once those words escaped your mouth Clarisse looked at you like you just smacked her across the face.

She was the Clarisse La Rue, she didn’t get jealous especially when it came to dumb blonde’s who tried her hardest to get you to hangout with her. She had guys and girls dropping at her feet everyday there was no reason for her to be jealous of any girl that tried to get close to you but she couldn’t stop the weird feeling in her stomach whenever she thought of you and Amira being in the library by yourselves or the thought of kissing you like she found herself wanting to do ever since she tripped you in the hallway.

The more she thought about you and Amira doing the things she wanted to do with you made her mad but you were too busy to notice because you were still laughing. Marching over to you Clarisse pinned you against the door with a glare on her face immediately making your laughing fit come to a stop and she smiled.

“What’s wrong, Princess? Cat got your tongue?” She taunted, smirking at the stunned look on your face. Her eyes scanned yours before she nervously licked her lips as she brought her face closer to yours to the point you could feel her breath on your face.

“Clari-”

She cut you off by smashing her lips onto yours in a hungry kiss. Her hands trailing down to squeeze your hips tightly, pulling you closer to her. Your hands slowly made their way into her thick curls and pulled causing her to groan into your mouth.

Clarisse was the first one to pull away but not for long as she began trailing kisses down your neck, sucking at a certain spot causing a small moan to escape your mouth. She bit down harshly on your neck, sucking on the same spot, leaving a dark and very noticeable hickey on the side of your neck. You threw your head back as small groans left your mouth as she continued to leave hickeys.

Clarisse smirked to herself as she imagined Amira’s reaction but it only made her leave more hickeys on your neck. After a while she pulled away and placed a soft kiss on your lips and immediately you kissed back only pulling away when you needed air.

“You’re mine.” Clarisse mumbled looking into your eyes before kissing you again and without hesitation you kissed her back.

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x fem!reader #clarisse la rue x reader #pjo tv show #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse pjo #cringe

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mascdestr0yer · 12 days ago

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NUMBER ONE (3)

Hopkins!Paige x Fem!reader

Warnings: Fluff, a bit cheesy, a girl and basketball player (zombies ref) Trope: Slow burn

Synopsis: Paige’s birthday so happens to be in your favorite time of the year, super..

A/N: i heavily base this story off like if andi mack and euphoria had a baby on fentanyl

“i see you,”

previous | Next

Part Three: The Party

It was nearly impossible to ignore the weight of your nerves as you stood in front of the rented house, a small mansion lit up by neon strobes and pulsing music. The party was in full swing, even from outside. Laughter, shouts, and the bass of music reverberated through the air. You adjusted the hem of your costume—a fitted black bodysuit paired with shimmering tights and thigh-high boots. You felt exposed, ridiculous even, but your mom had insisted the look was perfect, a balance of cute and daring.

costume

She had been annoyingly supportive about Paige’s party. “You only get one high school experience,” she’d chirped as you left, her knowing smile practically haunting you now.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed the front door open.

Inside, the house was alive with chaos. People crowded every corner, clutching red solo cups or nursing bottles of something undoubtedly overpriced and underage-approved. The faint scent of weed lingered beneath the layers of spilled alcohol, sweat, and too much perfume. The house’s grandeur—gleaming hardwood floors, massive crystal chandeliers, and ornate furniture—was dimmed by the wild energy of the partygoers.

You tugged nervously at your costume, weaving your way through the throng of people. A couple stumbled past you, their laughter loud and sloppy, and you swore you saw someone trying to climb onto the chandelier.

“Is Paige even here?” you thought, scanning the room for the birthday girl. Your stomach flipped at the idea of seeing her.

The living room was a sea of bodies. Someone had taken over the massive sound system, blaring a remix that rattled the walls. Groups huddled around a coffee table playing drinking games, while others danced like their lives depended on it. You spotted a few familiar faces from school—some people you liked, some you avoided, and others you’d barely noticed before tonight.

“Looking good!” a guy you vaguely recognized called out, winking at you. You offered an awkward smile, ignoring the way your cheeks burned.

You kept moving, making your way to the kitchen. The counters were lined with bottles of vodka, tequila, mixers, and stacks of mismatched cups. A girl dressed as a sexy devil was refilling her drink while another, draped in angel wings, was taking selfies by the fridge. You grabbed a soda, not trusting the dubious punch bowl everyone seemed so eager to dip into.

“Didn’t think you’d actually come,” a voice drawled behind you, making you nearly drop your drink. You turned to find Paige leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, a lazy grin on her lips.

She looked unfairly good. She wore a black leather jacket over a cropped top, paired with ripped jeans and boots. Her hair was slicked back, and there was a teasing glint in her eyes that made it hard to breathe.

“I—uh—why wouldn’t I?” you stammered, cursing the way your voice wavered.

Paige’s grin widened. “No reason. Just didn’t think you were the party type.”

You shrugged, trying to seem unaffected, even though her gaze felt like a spotlight. “Maybe I just wanted to see what the hype was about.”

“Sure,” she said, stepping closer. The faint scent of her cologne—warm, spicy, intoxicating—filled your senses. She glanced at your cup. “You’re not drinking?”

“Not yet,” you replied quickly, suddenly self-conscious.

“Good. Don’t touch the punch,” she warned, lowering her voice. “Saw them dumping a full bottle of Everclear in it earlier. Don’t want you passed out before the night gets interesting.”

Paige’s presence was magnetic, and the party seemed to fade into the background whenever she looked at you like that—like you were the only one in the room. She leaned in slightly, her lips curving into a smirk.

“You look good, by the way,” she said, her tone casual but her eyes lingering on your costume.

Your heart flipped. “Thanks. You too.”

Before you could embarrass yourself further, a loud shout interrupted the moment.

“PAIGE! Beer pong, let’s go!” someone hollered from the living room.

Paige sighed, glancing over her shoulder before turning back to you. “Duty calls. Don’t go anywhere, okay?”

You nodded, too stunned to respond. She winked before disappearing into the crowd, leaving you reeling.

The night unraveled in a blur of highs and lows. Upstairs, you’d heard muffled laughter and the occasional thud of someone stumbling into a wall. People spilled out onto the balcony, their cigarettes glowing like fireflies against the night sky.

You wandered through the house, trying to feel less out of place. In the hallway, you passed a couple making out so aggressively that they almost knocked over a vase. In one of the bedrooms, the door cracked open just enough for you to glimpse a guy dressed as a pirate doing lines of coke off a mirror while a girl in a mermaid costume giggled beside him.

“What am I doing here?” you thought for the hundredth time that night.

Back downstairs, you found yourself near the dance floor, clutching your now-empty soda can. Paige was across the room, engaged in what looked like a heated game of beer pong. Her laughter rang out above the music, carefree and contagious.

You felt a pang of something—jealousy? longing?—watching her interact so effortlessly with everyone around her. She was magnetic, drawing people in with ease, while you felt like a shadow in comparison.

“Having fun?” a voice broke through your thoughts.

You turned to see a girl with dark lipstick and a cigarette tucked behind her ear. She was leaning against the wall, a smirk playing on her lips.

“Uh, yeah,” you lied, forcing a smile.

“First time at one of Paige’s parties?”

You nodded.

The girl chuckled. “Figured. You’ve got that ‘what the hell is happening’ look. Don’t worry, it’s always like this. Chaos is kind of her thing.”

You weren’t sure how long you stood there, making small talk with the girl, when Paige appeared again. She looked a little flushed, her hair slightly disheveled, but her grin was still firmly in place.

“Hey, you okay?” she asked, her eyes scanning you as if checking for any signs of discomfort.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you said quickly, hoping your face didn’t betray the storm of emotions brewing inside you.

“Good.” She glanced at the girl beside you and raised an eyebrow. “Lena, don’t scare her off.”

Lena laughed, holding up her hands in mock surrender. “Relax, I was just keeping her company. You know, since you were busy being the life of the party.”

Paige rolled her eyes but didn’t respond. Instead, she turned to you, her expression softening. “Come with me?”

She led you outside, away from the noise and chaos. The backyard was quieter, lit by string lights that cast a warm glow over the patio furniture and the half-empty pool.

Paige sat down on the edge of the pool, motioning for you to join her. The water rippled gently beneath the lights, and the cool night air was a welcome relief from the stifling heat inside.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence stretched, comfortable yet charged with unspoken tension.

“You’re different tonight,” Paige said finally, breaking the quiet.

“Different how?”

She shrugged, her gaze fixed on the water. “I don’t know. Just… different. I like it.”

You didn’t know what to say, so you stayed quiet, your heart pounding in your chest.

“I’m glad you came,” she added after a moment, turning to look at you.

The sincerity in her voice caught you off guard, and for a split second, it felt like the rest of the world didn’t exist.

Before you could respond, someone called Paige’s name from inside the house, shattering the moment.

Paige groaned, running a hand through her hair. “I should probably go deal with that.”

You nodded, trying to hide your disappointment.

“But hey,” she said, standing up and offering you her hand. “Stay out here for a bit. Breathe. I’ll come find you later.”

You took her hand, letting her pull you to your feet. Her touch was warm, steadying, and you hated how much you wanted her to hold on just a little longer.

And then she was gone, disappearing back into the chaos, leaving you alone with the sound of the water and the pounding of your own heart.

The thought made you exhale sharply, annoyed with yourself. You weren’t about to be one of those people who revolved their entire night around someone else. With renewed determination, you headed back inside, weaving through the crowd.

The house was even more packed now, people pressed shoulder to shoulder in the narrow halls. A cloud of smoke hung over the living room—someone must’ve started rolling joints en masse, because everyone had a cigarette or blunt in hand. You spotted a couple of your classmates lounging on the couch, their faces glazed over and dazed as they passed a joint back and forth.

On the stairs, people crowded in pairs and trios, whispering conspiratorially or slipping into rooms upstairs. The tension in the house was palpable—something raw, reckless, like a pot about to boil over.

You pushed through it all, your head buzzing from the mix of sounds, smells, and lights. In the kitchen, the punch bowl had become the epicenter of chaos. A group of guys was attempting to shotgun beers while one girl stood on the counter, yelling a countdown.

You were trying to make your way past when someone caught your wrist.

“Hey!” It was Lena again, grinning like she’d just won the lottery. “Come join us. You’re too sober for this party.”

“I’m fine,” you replied quickly, but she wasn’t having it.

“C’mon,” she insisted, pulling you toward the counter where the girl was still standing triumphantly, holding a bottle of tequila. “One shot won’t kill you.”

You hesitated, glancing around. The energy of the room was infectious, everyone cheering and chanting as the girl poured tequila directly into someone’s mouth. You didn’t want to look like a buzzkill, but the thought of drinking something so strong made your stomach twist.

“Don’t pressure her,” Paige’s voice cut through the noise like a lifeline.

You turned to see her leaning against the doorframe, her gaze fixed on Lena with an edge of warning. She looked almost irritated, her jaw tight.

Lena rolled her eyes but backed off, raising her hands. “Fine. No harm, no foul.” She wandered away, leaving you and Paige alone in the kitchen’s chaos.

“You okay?” Paige asked, stepping closer.

“Yeah,” you mumbled, your heart racing—not from the tequila, but from her. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” she said softly. “You don’t need to do anything you don’t want to. This isn’t that kind of party.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure? Because I think someone upstairs just broke a bed.”

Paige chuckled, her shoulders relaxing a bit. “Okay, maybe it’s a little that kind of party. But you don’t have to worry about it.”

Her eyes met yours, and for a second, everything else faded away again. The kitchen, the noise, the chaos—it was all background static to the quiet intensity of her gaze.

“Let’s get out of here,” she said suddenly, her voice low but steady.

You blinked. “What?”

“Just for a minute. It’s too loud in here.”

Before you could second-guess yourself, Paige took your hand and led you through the crowd. Her grip was firm, grounding, as she navigated the maze of people. She pulled you toward the back door and into the night again, but this time, she didn’t stop at the pool.

She led you around the side of the house, where the shadows were deeper, the party’s neon glow just a faint echo. There was an old wooden swing hanging from a tree, its ropes weathered and frayed, and she gestured for you to sit.

You hesitated but eventually lowered yourself onto the swing, the wood creaking beneath you. Paige leaned against the tree, her hands in her pockets, watching you with an unreadable expression.

“This is better,” she said after a moment, her voice soft. “Don’t you think?”

You nodded, the cool night air soothing against your skin. “Yeah. It’s… quieter.”

She smiled faintly, kicking at the dirt with the toe of her boot. For a while, neither of you spoke. It wasn’t awkward, though. It felt like a truce, a moment of peace stolen from the chaos inside.

“Why’d you come tonight?” Paige asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

You glanced up at her, startled. “You invited me.”

“That’s not an answer.”

You hesitated, your fingers twisting the hem of your costume. “I don’t know. I guess… I just wanted to see what it was like.”

Paige tilted her head, studying you. “And?”

“It’s not really my scene,” you admitted. “But it’s… interesting.”

She laughed softly, the sound low and warm. “Yeah, that’s one way to put it.”

A breeze rustled through the trees, sending a chill down your spine. Paige noticed and shrugged off her leather jacket, draping it over your shoulders before you could protest.

“Thanks,” you murmured, the warmth of the jacket settling over you.

She sat down on the ground in front of you, leaning back on her hands, her face lit by the faint glow of the string lights in the distance.

“Can I ask you something?” she said, her tone careful.

“Sure,” you replied, your heart suddenly in your throat.

“Why do you always avoid me at school?”

The question caught you off guard. You opened your mouth to deny it but stopped. There was no point lying; Paige wasn’t stupid.

“I don’t avoid you,” you said weakly.

She raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, maybe I do,” you admitted, your cheeks burning. “It’s just… you’re intimidating.”

Her expression softened, and for a moment, she looked almost hurt. “I don’t mean to be.”

“I know,” you said quickly. “It’s not a bad thing. You’re just… you’re Paige. Everyone knows you, everyone likes you. It’s… a lot.”

She was quiet for a moment, her gaze dropping to the ground. “You know, it’s not always great being… ‘Paige.’”

You frowned. “What do you mean?”

She shrugged, a small, bitter smile tugging at her lips. “People like me, sure. But they don’t really know me. Half the time, I feel like I’m just playing a part.”

Her words hung heavy in the air, and you felt a pang of guilt. You’d always assumed Paige had it all figured out—that her confidence and charm were effortless.

“I guess I never thought about it that way,” you said softly.

She looked up at you, her eyes searching yours. “Yeah, well… you’re one of the only people who doesn’t treat me like some… character. That’s why I invited you tonight. I wanted you to see that I’m just… me.”

Your breath caught in your throat. The vulnerability in her voice, the way she was looking at you—it was almost too much.

“I see you,” you whispered before you could stop yourself.

Paige’s eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, you thought you’d said too much. But then she smiled—a real, genuine smile—and your heart soared.

“Good,” she said quietly.

And for the first time that night, you felt like you belonged.

sorry if it's too short, hope you guys liked it taglist: @darlindayss @secretlifeofmarii @aavasstuff @ajcuteee @naipoohh @mrsengstler @thebignunfun @tired-duckling @julienbakerloverr @mrsarnold @slut4uconnwbb @abbyswif3 @svudetective @liviiyyy @hellokittyfeenie

#millie talks❀*̥˚#uconn wbb #uconn huskies #wlw #uconn women’s basketball #paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #drabble #fluff #fanfic #paige bueckers fic #my fic #women’s basketball #woman loving woman #slow burn #lebanese #paige bueckers headcannon #paige fans

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thatonebirdwrites · 2 months ago

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Dress

Kara received the invitation in a rather perplexing way. Spray-painted onto the windows of her apartment, it read: 'To: Kara Zorel, From: you-know-who, Location: Smithsonian Museum, When: Tonight. Dress-up buttercup.'

Of course her adversary would find the most ludicrous way of inviting her to what was definitely a planned heist. Lena Kieran Walsh had gotten quite cocky in the past year, and it annoyed (but also aroused) Kara to the fullest. It's like Lena wanted to be caught by Kara, and yet every time Kara showed up, she was always too late. She refused to admit most times Lena simply outwitted her as if this traversing the world, stealing priceless artifacts was just a game to her.

Her boss, Alex Danvers, wanted progress, something beyond a report of the latest theft and diatribes exchanged. In fact, the entire team would be patroling tonight, considering the high stakes - Lex Luthor's gala to present the newest artifact to a priceless collection. One hailing from the tomb of Medb in Western Ireland.

So Kara sifted through her closet and decided on a dress that would be easy for running. Because running was definitely on the menu. Lena couldn't seem to resist setting up a outrageous chase through the city after a heist.

What she did with the stolen goods, Kara hadn't quite figured out either. But tonight she planned to do just that. A confrontation that would hopefully blow Lena's irritating smugness out of the water.

>>>...<<<

The Smithsonian that night was packed with rich heirs and heiresses, the elite of America, and many a diplomat or politician. Appetizers did little to stave off Kara's growing hunger, most of them ridiculously tiny portions and oddly French-sounding in name. The wine flowed freely, a port from Italy, which reeked of money.

Lex Luthor, a famous technologist and bombastic billionaire, had gone all out to pattern the gardens of the Smithsonian with extremely expensive decorations. All because he'd acquired an ancient artifact from Ireland of all places, and he had donated it, in a sweeping mound of generosity, to the Smithsonian. All to help fund his newest venture, an archeological dig somewhere in Africa.

Kara didn't really pay attention to where Lex focused his digs, but this one held a hint of racism. His charisma caught the eye and ears of everyone there, well, almost everyone. Halfway into his long speech, which extolled his own virtues and gave lip service to the team actually leading his digs, Kara had grown increasingly bored.

Her eyes roved over the crowds until she sighted another bored individual. This one dressed in a scarlet dress with a tantalizing low-cut, incredibly high heels -- how did anyone walk in them? -- and gorgeous black hair that framed her face.

A very familiar face in fact.

One that sent a spark of desire through Kara, which was swiftly accompanied by a rush of shame.

She really should not be this turned on at the mere sight of Lena Kieran Walsh. In fact, she should arrest her immediately.

Instead, she sidled over to Lena's spot at the far-left side of the crowd. "Fancy seeing you here," she murmured when she stopped at Lena's side. She kept her gaze on Lex, who stood on the makeshift stage, his arms lifted as if conducting an orchestra, while behind him a ridiculous 3D representation of the artifact floated above the projector.

"Indeed." Lena smirked, her gaze also on the overblown man. "It would seem fate has brought us to this singular moment of triumph."

Kara raised her eyebrows. "Oh? A word of praise for your adversary?"

Lena snorted and sipped what looked like wine, but Kara doubted it was. The woman had never drank anything that she did not bring and open herself. A fact Kara discovered three heists ago when she'd attempted to put a sleeping agent in the drinks, only for it to knock out half her own team and Lena completely unaffected. Alex definitely had been sour after that blunder, so no, Kara suspected it to be colored water at best.

"Hardly. No, tonight sparks the start of his downfall." She winked at Kara. "I merely refer to what is soon to transpire, an event for which you will play a crucial role."

"Crucial? I've gone up in the world." She kept her tone dry and unaffected, but inwardly she preened at the praise. Last heist, when Kara had nearly caught Lena, she'd been a few seconds shy of grabbing Lena's arm before Lena leaped off the building and into the open doors of a hovering helicopter. Kara had almost jumped after her, only to stop at the edge, dizzy by the twenty-four story drop.

Alex had been furious at the near-miss. "Where does she even get these escape vehicles? Next time, I don't care what you do, just capture her for good. We can't afford another disaster like the last one."

Here she stood next to Lena, and instead of immediately taking her into custody, she was what? Flirting at best? Being a gay fool? Maybe Alex's threat to take her off the case was correct. She'd become too used to Lena's cloying words and shenanigans.

Lena swirled her drink and tilted her head, one eyebrow rising. "I see you listened to my invitation. Dressed to the nine." She clicked her tongue in approval, while her eyes raked over Kara's light-blue dress that hugged her torso but flowed loose over her legs.

Kara tried not to blush, but it was hard with how hungry Lena's expression was. "Seemed appropriate for the circumstances."

Why was Lena's smiles so mind-numbingly adorable? It made it difficult for Kara to think of anything but kissing those lips. She bit her lip and tossed the thought into the stratosphere. Her focus splintered by Lena's closeness, and a need to gently and stealthily move them slowly toward the nearest exit. Where Kara hoped to finally arrest her.

Lena sipped her drink and nodded toward the still-ongoing monologue of Lex. "To think he believes himself to be the star of the show. Wouldn't you agree he's a side character at best? Red-shirt at worst?"

Ah, Lena had let slip a Star Trek reference. Kara logged that detail along with the past slips in prior heists, where Lena had quoted Star Wars, mocked Indiana Jones, and compared Kara to the bumbling but pretty fool from some Superhero film.

"Red shirt for sure." Kara nodded and considered whether she had time to nab a drink and better food before Lena started her show. "I take it he is not crucial to your plan."

"Plan?" Lena laughed softly. "What makes you think I plan anything, Ms. Kara Zorel?"

"A brilliant villianess as yourself hardly leaves her hidey hole without one. I expect to be bedazzled." She really couldn't resist this banter, could she? She planted her hands on her hips, one finger flipping the cover on her stun gun.

Lena's gaze shifted to Kara's belt briefly, before she sipped her drink and returned to watching the endless monologue of the most irritating technologist in history. "I hear your job is on the line, and yet here we stand. Deriding the one who speaks."

How Lena knew that was beyond Kara, and it wasn't necessarily her job on the line but more her team's job since the Interpol higher-ups had been very unimpressed with their record thus far.

"What makes you think I don't have my own plan?" Her fingers inched closer to the stun gun. It'd take only a second to whip it out, stun Lena, and slap on the handcuffs. It's the spectacle Kara wanted to avoid. Last thing she needed was newspapers to focus on her. This detective gig was Kara's chance at redeeming her family's rather dark history, one riddled with eugenic viruses and bioweapons. No, she had to find a way to lure Lena further from the crowds and blinding lights Lex likely installed to focus on his grandeur.

Lena gave that an undignified snort. "A plan requires significant preparation, my dear agent. That's hardly your purview, isn't it?"

Kara sidled carefully toward the nearest door, and Lena seemed content to move with her. She wasn't even resisting, which had Kara very confused. This seemed far too easy. "How rude," she scoffed. They were a few feet from the door now, "I'm a great planner. Why I'm assigned to your case."

"Oh, come now, we both know that's not true." The taunt in Lena's voice, the way she swept her gaze over Kara's body, and the slow move toward the exit -- all culminated in Kara ambushed by a growing lust. She was tempted to just kiss Lena senseless in the stairwell beyond that exit door, while hand-cuffing her.

Lena would probably make a kinky joke and find a way to escape before the other agents secured her fully.

That tended to be Kara's luck in past attempts, like in Belize, or Paris, or Santa Cruz de la Sierra. Each one she'd nearly captured Lena, only for her to somehow escape restraints or leap off a building and survive. It was aggravating but also hella hot.

Two feet from the door now and still Lex droned on and on. The crowd grew restless, a few people had wandered away from the stage to examine some of the pieces the Smithsonian had put on display for this event. Each one encased in incredibly hard to break glass and a field that would shock anyone who dared to put their hand inside.

"It seems the crowd grows restless." Lena grinned and dropped her glass -- liquid and all -- in the trash bin by the door. "I believe it's time to give them the show they've, unknowingly, been waiting for, don't you agree?"

"Of course." Kara took the chance. She gripped Lena's arm, maneuvered her into the hallway, but before she could slap on hand-cuffs or even whip out the stun gun, Lena pressed her against the wall, her hand over Kara's clavicle, and kissed her soundly on the lips.

Sparks danced through Kara's body, and she couldn't stop the slight moan nor how she kissed back with a desperation that left her wet and ashamed.

Lena pulled back, her heterochromatic eyes almost black from her blown pupils, her breaths as heavy as Kara's own. "You truly are wasted on Interpol," she said. "Now I must be off. My people's heritage needs a'saving."

A strangle tingling swept over Kara's lips, and she felt woozy, the colors of the hallway far too bright. "Did you poison me?" She swayed on her feet. Lena split into three people, and Kara couldn't decide which one was the prettiest.

"Hardly. It'll last only an hour. A highly amusing hour." Lena smirked again, her triplicate forms mirroring the movement with one hand on her hip. "I'm told it'll give you quite the trip, and that is what you want, right? An out of this world adventure."

"Oh definitely." Kara stumbled forward to try to embrace one of the three Lena's. She needed another kiss. Maybe more than a kiss. In fact, dancing sounded like the perfect adventure. "Hey, don't go, lemme give you a dance."

Lena's finger tapped Kara's nose. "Maybe next time."

Kara grinned and managed to nab one of the three Lena's. She twirled her into a waltz to only music Kara could hear.

As the real Lena Kieran Walsh escaped to steal Lex Luthor's newest stolen artifact, Kara Zorel danced with no one in the concrete stairwell.

#supercorp #lena luthor #kara zor el #The Carmen Sandiego AU we all didn't know we needed #I couldn't resist this #supercorptober #kara x lena #supercorp fic #supercorptober2024

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loveletterworm · 25 days ago

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Not the most pressing issue in the world but I saw this and felt like I was kind of obligated to spread the word:

SEGA is delisting a ton of games from Steam on December 6th (2024) for some reason.

Like, so many I can't even fit them in a screenshot:

Some games this includes are Crazy Taxi, Jet Set Radio, NiGHTS into Dreams, a whole bunch of Sega Genesis games... (In fact, it seems it's all the Sega Genesis games and almost all the Dreamcast games they sell on Steam. Sonic Adventure DX and Sonic Adventure 2 are unaffected.)

There's not any reason given why, and it's some pretty famous games they're taking out, so...this month is your last chance to own SEGA Bass Fishing on Steam specifically.

(This was never on Steam but they're also delisting the Xbox 360 port of Sonic the Fighters...? Which is especially sad to me because that was the port that made the most famous unused character in it actually be a functional secret character. She's going to die...)

#mypost #sega #I don't know how to tag this sorry...

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brainddeadd · 1 month ago

Note

can i request something like best friend!jack hughes gets jealous when a guy is flirting with reader so he claims she’s his girlfriend and threatens him to scare him off meanwhile reader is like ???

Possessive Streak

You had only agreed to tag along with Jack to this party because you knew how much it meant to him. He was always dragging you along to events, insisting that you were his favorite plus-one. And, truthfully, you never really minded—it was hard to say no to Jack Hughes when he looked at you with those big blue eyes, grinning like an overexcited golden retriever.

The party was in full swing, music pulsing through the room, people crowding every corner with drinks in hand. Jack had disappeared at some point to talk to some of his teammates, leaving you by the bar. You were fine with it, though; it gave you a chance to catch your breath.

What you didn't expect was the guy currently standing in front of you, leaning far too close and trying way too hard.

"You must hear this all the time," the guy said, shooting you a grin that screamed player, "but you're seriously too pretty to be here alone."

You smiled politely, gripping your drink tighter. "I'm not alone. I'm here with a friend."

He raised an eyebrow, not taking the hint. "A friend, huh? Well, how about you ditch him and let me show you a better time?"

You forced a laugh, inching away. Just as you were about to politely make your escape, a familiar voice cut through the conversation like a sharp blade.

"Yeah, no."

You turned to find Jack standing there, his easygoing demeanor replaced with something cold and possessive. His arm slid around your waist without hesitation, tugging you closer into his side like you'd been his girlfriend for years.

The guy blinked, looking between the two of you. "Uh… sorry, man. I didn’t know she was taken."

"Yeah, she is," Jack said flatly, tightening his grip on your hip for emphasis. "So you can leave. Now."

The guy raised his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright. Didn't mean to step on any toes." He gave you one last sheepish glance before slipping into the crowd.

Jack waited until he was out of sight before turning to you with a smug little grin—clearly proud of himself. "There. Problem solved."

You stared at him, dumbfounded. "Did you just—?"

"Claim you as my girlfriend? Yeah." He said it so casually, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

"Why?" you asked, blinking up at him.

Jack shrugged, but his ears were suspiciously pink. "He was annoying. I didn’t like the way he was looking at you."

"You realize that’s not a good enough reason to pretend we're dating, right?"

He gave you a mischievous look, one that made your heart stutter in your chest. "You didn't seem to mind it, though."

You opened your mouth to argue, but the truth was—you kind of didn't mind. There was something strangely comforting about the way Jack had stepped in, protective and sure of himself, like it was second nature for him to keep people like that guy away from you.

Still, you crossed your arms over your chest, trying to appear unaffected. "You know, you could’ve just told him I wasn’t interested. No need to act like a jealous boyfriend."

Jack smirked, clearly enjoying himself way too much. "Well, maybe if you actually were my girlfriend, I wouldn't have to pretend."

Your breath caught, and before you could figure out how to respond to that, Jack gave you a wink and tugged you closer.

"Come on," he said, nudging his shoulder against yours. "Let's go find something more fun to do. I think I've made my point."

You let yourself be pulled along, heart racing, trying to ignore the way his hand lingered at your waist. But something told you this little game of pretend wasn't quite over yet—and maybe, just maybe, you didn't want it to be.

You let Jack pull you away from the bar, weaving through the crowd. The warmth of his hand on your waist made your heart beat faster, and you couldn't ignore the fact that it felt right. Too right for just friends.

He steered you into a quieter corner of the house, away from the music and noise. The dim lighting cast soft shadows over his face, but you could still see the flicker of something unreadable in his eyes.

"So…" you said, crossing your arms. "You gonna explain what that was all about?"

Jack gave you that signature cocky grin, but there was something else underneath—something nervous. "What do you mean? I told you, I didn’t like how that guy was flirting with you."

You raised an eyebrow. "And your solution was to pretend we’re dating?"

He shifted on his feet, his hand raking through his messy hair. "Well, yeah. Seemed like the easiest way to get rid of him."

You shook your head with a small laugh. "Jack, you could’ve just told him I wasn’t interested."

His grin faltered slightly, and for a moment, he looked serious. Vulnerable, even. "Yeah… but what if you were interested?"

That caught you off guard. "What?"

Jack glanced away, like he was trying to gather his thoughts. When he looked back at you, his eyes were softer, filled with something that made your chest ache. "I just… I didn’t like seeing him all over you, okay? It made me feel—" He broke off, sighing in frustration. "I’ve been trying to ignore it, but it’s driving me nuts. Every time I see some guy flirting with you, I realize how much I hate it."

Your heart was pounding now, the pieces starting to fall into place. "Jack…"

"I didn’t just pretend you were my girlfriend back there," he admitted quietly. "I’ve wanted to say something for a while, but I was scared I’d mess everything up. And maybe I just did."

He ran a hand down his face, clearly bracing himself for rejection. "But the truth is… I don’t want to pretend. I want you to be mine. For real."

You stared at him, stunned into silence. Jack Hughes—your best friend, your partner-in-crime, the guy who had always been there for you—was looking at you with so much sincerity it nearly knocked the air from your lungs.

"Say something," he murmured, his voice a little shaky.

It took you a moment to find your words, but when you did, they came out soft, filled with the emotions you hadn’t even realized you’d been holding back. "I think… I’ve been waiting for you to say that."

Jack blinked, his lips parting slightly in surprise. "You have?"

You smiled, stepping closer. "Yeah, dummy. I don’t want to pretend either."

His eyes lit up, and before you could say anything else, he leaned down and kissed you—soft and tentative at first, like he was still afraid you might change your mind.

But you kissed him back without hesitation, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer. The tension that had been lingering between you two for so long melted away in an instant, replaced by the warmth of something real and undeniable.

When you finally pulled back, Jack rested his forehead against yours, grinning like he’d just won the lottery.

"So," he whispered, brushing his thumb along your jaw. "Does this mean you’re my girlfriend now?"

You laughed, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. "I think it does."

His grin widened, and he tightened his arms around you, like he never wanted to let go. "Good. Because I wasn’t planning on letting anyone else have you anyway."

And just like that, everything that had once felt complicated now seemed so simple—because being with Jack had always felt like the most natural thing in the world.

#jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagines #jack hughes fanfic #° braindead writes

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marvellous1917 · 8 months ago

Text

Icarus Falling Far From.

(Part 4)

Pairing: mob!bucky x tattoo artist!female!reader

Summary: Bucky comes face to face with the ones fucking his shit up, he’s all stressed and the reader just wants to make out.

Warnings: mentions of crime (guns,drugs,murder [he’s a mobster babes]), swearing, guns, reader being threatened with a gun (oops), threat of violence, talking about feelings (ew), think that’s it-if I’m missing any let me know.

Word count: 3.9k ish

A/n: hey guys, hope you enjoy this shit lmao, I truly have absolutely no idea where I’m going with this.

(This is not beta’d we die like men.)

Part 3 : Icarus Falling Far

Masterlist

————

Bucky’s thoughts in italics

Readers thoughts in bold

————

Fuck.

Fuucckk.

“It’s you.” Bucky states, his voice steady, hiding the confusion running through his head.

“It’s us,” Frank responds, “gotta be honest, we’ve had a lot of fun fucking up your shit.”

Frank stood with a smug smirk on his face, while the man with the buzz cut, and with scars covering his face, the light outside casting a grim portrait, stands with a big grin - both completely unaffected by the gun being pointed at them.

“Does she know?” Bucky asks, years of being screwed by people he trusted rearing back and kicking his trust issues into his gear.

Please say no, please tell me she’s not a part of this.

No. Not her.

“Y/n? Bet it break your cold heart if we said yes, huh?” Billy quips, with that stupid grin now a permanent fixture on his face. “That sweet pretty girl you though actually liked you, was actually just getting us this in, see we have proposition for- ”

“DOES SHE KNOW?” Bucky lets his voice rise, tired of the games the other men were playing.

“No, and we are gonna keep it that way you hear me, don’t drag that kind girl into this cruel world.” Curtis states, stepping forward as if to cut Billy off from responding.

Shit, I can’t let you look down and see me waving a gun in your friends faces.

“She doesn’t need to know. She’s not made for this world, not like us. So how about you put the gun away before she starts looking out that window.” Frank says, eyes flicking to your window to make sure you’re not witnessing this tense conversation.

Bucky slowly lowers the gun into his pocket, but keeps his hand tight on the weapon, just as a precaution.

Please be true, to whatever bastard higher power up there, please be true.

“Not like us?” Bucky says, parroting the other man’s words, “in what world are we the same?”

“Well I mean you and Curtis probably share the most similar physicality,” Billy states, chuckling a little at his own joke.

Bucky’s eyes flit to the quiet man on the left, recalling his earlier thoughts.

“What Bill means to say is that I know what’s it’s like to loose a limb in combat-”

“I didn’t loose my arm in combat.” His voice was deep and unwavering, even while the horrid memories came to the front of his mind, “you have no idea what I went through.”

“We know some. Rumors fly in the military.” Franks states, “we were all Marines together, and after Curtis lost his leg, I became a Navy Seal and Bill here became a Scout Sniper for the Marine Corps Reconnaissance. We’ve had our fair share of being screwed over by those in authority.”

“Am I supposed to give a shit? All that crap is behind me, what I care about is my business now, the same business that you three have been fucking up for the past week. So what the fuck do you want and what the fuck does Y/n have to do with it?” Bucky growls out, his patience slipping.

“We mean no harm, not to you, and especially not to Y/n-”

“I’m supposed to believe that, you used her to get to me right? If you cared about her you wouldn’t have done that-” Bucky begins before he gets cut off.

“Don’t you dare say that we don’t care about her!” Billy almost shouts stepping forward before stopping when Bucky brings the gun out of his pocket and lets it rest by his side.

“Y/n is one of the few things in this world we care about, she’s family okay, and we would never hurt her-” Curtis says

“Really, then how would you say she’s gonna feel if I go back to her apartment and tell her all about this, huh?” Bucky calls back

“You’re not gonna do that though, are ya? Because you know if you did, it’d break her heart, and you don’t wanna do that do ya Buck? Not when ya like her so much?” The words come from Billy, the annoying grin back in his face.

“What make you think I care that much?” Bucky says, even though his thoughts state the opposite.

I do. I do care.

“If you didn’t you would have shot us already.” Frank responds with a very valid point.

That makes Bucky clench his jaw and tense his gun wielding hand.

“All we want is a business meeting okay, talk about a potential partnership.” Frank stars crossing his arms, staring unklinking at Bucky.

“A partnership? It’s gonna take more than you fucking up a few things for me to even think about considering that. And what the hell would I get out of a partnership with you three?” Brucky responds, seriously considering just shooting the three men dead on the street.

“Well that’s something we can talk about later, but just so you know we have our hands in some business ourselves and more than enough bodies to keep our shit going, but we’d all be a hell of a lot richer if we worked together” Curtis states, shifting his weight onto his good leg.

“Plus just think about how happy our girl will be if we all got on.” Billy chimes in with a quick wink.

Our girl. OUR girl? God I wanna shoot these assholes.

Bucky keeps his calm facade up, unwilling to show the man that his words affected him.

“Fine. Be at the Comandos bar at 8 pm tomorrow, just you three, no weapons.” Bucky responds, wanting this conversation to be over.

The three men share quick look’s between themselves, and then Frank steps forward with his hand out towards Bucky and says “We’ll be there.”

Bucky doesn’t even look at them before turning quickly and walking back into the building, pulling out his phone to call Steve.

Frank chuckles, puts his hand down and turns to get in the car.

“Think he’ll tell her?” Curtis asks.

“Nah. He likes her too much.” Billy replies, while opening the door and getting in.

—————

What the hell is taking him so long? God I hope the boys didn’t catch him and give the whole ‘if you hurt her we’ll kill you’ talk. The boys are scary but Bucky’s a damn mobster.

The heavy knock on the door stops your pacing, and cause you to run to the door and pull it open to see the aforementioned mobster.

He doesn’t even say anything before barging in, kicking the door closed behind him while his hands go straight to the sides of your face, pulling your lips to his. His grip is gentle, but his mouth is bruising, his teeth nipping your bottom lip.

You pull back to catch your breath, leaning your forehead on his and catching your breath.

“Not even a hello? You missed me that much?” You flirt quietly, whispering into his mouth, hand clutching his waist through his coat.

“More than you know darlin’ I needed to see you…and touch you,” Bucky responds, silently thinking I needed to make sure you were okay.

Oh please do.

“All I’m hearing is the big bad mobster saying he needs me” you tease, praying he didn’t take offence, yeah he’s sweet and lovely but I’ve only gotten a tiny glimpse at the other side of him.

“Is that how you see me?” He leans back to his full height, staring down into your eyes, dropping his hands to his sides.

Shit.

Bucky grips your wrists and takes your hands off his body, moving them into his metal hand, the surface cold on your skin. You scramble to respond, wanting to tell him you thought the opposite, but his flesh hand moves to his pocket before you can talk.

“Big bad mobster huh? Oh doll you have no idea,” he says with an indiscernible look on his face, pulling out his glock.

Oh fuck, I was only teasing.

“Wait Buck-“ you start before he cuts you off.

“Y/n…Are you scared of me?” He asks, his grip on your wrists loose enough that you could get out of his grip if you wanted to.

You didn’t move. Looking into his eyes, an overwhelming feeling of calm takes over, the blue of his eyes the same as the sky after a storm.

“…no. I’m not.” I probably should be but apparently I’m crazy.

“Do you think I’m bad?” He asks.

All the stories, all the rumours, the memory of your first meeting, and the call he took in the shop come flooding to the forefront of your mind. That he’s a man with no mercy, cares for nothing and no one - except money, sex, and violence.

“…not to me.” You answer.

He pulls his arm up, holding the glock in between your faces, showing it to you. The bottom of his tattoo- your tattoo- sticks out from under his sleeve.

A normal person without a broken brain would take this as a threat. Why am I attracted to this?

He makes eye contact with you over the barrel, turning his hand and resting the muzzle on your cheek, but there is no fear in you, you can see his trigger finger resting on the side of the barrel.

“Do you trust me Y/N?” Bucky asks, his eyes not moving from yours.

You take a second to think about it.

The man is a fucking mobster for Christs’ sake. He’s a criminal, a gun runner, a drug trafficker, and not to mention a killer. His kills have hit the news before, no evidence proving it was his organisation, but everyone knows. It doesn’t matter if it was Bucky that pulled the trigger, held the knife, planted the bomb, nothing happened that wasn’t on his order. Can I really trust a man like that?

Your hesitation to answer has an effect on Bucky. He moves the gun, dragging it down your neck and resting the muzzle in the dip of your collar bone. You look down at his hand, finger still nowhere near he trigger.

“Y/n.” He calls quietly. Your eyes jump back to his and he speaks again, “do you think I would ever hurt you?”

That question has an answer you don’t have to think about.

“Not unless I did something to deserve it.” Your attempt at humour was immediately seen to be the wrong answer.

He sticks the gun back in your face, muzzle pushing between you lips, scratching your teeth. The movement causes your eyes to go wide, fear slipping onto your face.

“Did you do something to deserve it? Have you fucked me over Y/n?” His voice is tense, deadly serious, an unstable look in his eyes, his metal hand tightening on your wrists.

You lean back a little to answer, “…no, no of course not Buck. What’s going on? You’re freaking me out.”

He stares at you for what feels like hours, his face perfectly still, not giving anything away.

She doesn’t know. She truly has no idea. Thank fuck.

He drops the gun and lets go of your wrists, taking a few steps back, giving you space.

“I’m sorry doll, I’ve just had very hard day, some new information was given to me and it’s fucked me up a bit. I’m sorry Y/n, truly I am, I didn’t mean to freak you out.” His hands run through his hair, pulling at it harshly. “Shit darlin’, what the hell was I doing?” He mumbles the last bit to himself.

“Buck..Bucky, hey calm down, it’s okay-” you start before he talks again.

“It’s not okay! I just put a fucking gun in your face.” He keeps rambling, seeming like a whole other person than he was a minute ago.

“Buck! Stop, stop jabbering,” you grab his wrists, taking his hands from his hair and pulling him towards you.

He stops talking, and stares at your hands in his, the metal of his prosthetic shining a stark contrast against your skin.

You take a second to look at him, eyes studying his face. He looks worried, and a little scared.

Huh, didn’t know a mobster could get scared. Is he’s scared of me and what I’m gonna say… or is he scared of himself?

“You don’t scare me Buck…you probably should, but you don’t. ‘Cos you’ve been nothing but good to me, even a minute ago when you were acting weird, I knew you weren’t gonna do anything-”

“How? How did you trust me to not hurt you, when I was waving my glock in your face?”

“You had your finger on the barrel”

He’s silent for a few seconds, thinking over what you said. He takes a deep breath, meeting your eyes.

“I don’t know what to say,” Bucky responds.

“Then don’t say anything.” You say, the imagine of him with a gun in his hand fresh in your mind.

That whole episode should not have been as hot as it was. Shit I’m fucked up.

Bucky stares at you (he does that a-lot), unsure of his next move.

“Kiss me, dumbass.”

He moves before you can blink, his hands gently grabbing your face and pulling you to him. His kiss takes your breath away, gentle but firm. Your hands grip his elbows, encouraging him to keep going.

He takes the hint (thank fuck) and splits your lips with his tongue, his nose pressed hard against your cheek. He moves his hands down to your hips, gripping hard. Your hands grip the back of his head, fingers playing with his hair, tugging at it slightly when he completely deepens the kiss, your tongues tangling together. He lets out a quiet groan at the feeling, taking his left hand off your hip and tensing it by his side. You break the kiss when you feel the loss of his touch.

You take a second to catch your breath, Bucky leaning his head against yours.

“Why did you take your hand off me?” You ask.

“What?” He responds, the small dazed look on his face making you chuckle a little.

“Your hand, I liked it where it was.”

“Oh..that. It’s uh..it’s pretty strong, I can’t tell how hard I’m holding something, I can’t feel it so I tend to hold things a bit too hard… I broke like 5 cups in the past week-” he answers, stuttering his way through the sentence.

“Stop talking Buck, and you say I ramble,” You say, putting your finger to his lips. He stops talking, and you continue, “I trust you Buck, I’ll tell you if you’re holding me too hard. Plus I like it a little rough.” You finish with a wink at him, pulling his hand back to your waist.

He drops his head back, eyes closed and takes a deep breath in. He mumbles under his breath something that sounds like ‘god you’re perfect’, then he crashes his lips back into yours, both hands tightening on your hips.

He moves faster now, more intense with his kiss, his teeth scraping yours slightly and he presses you backwards, walking with you until you bump into the wall, his flesh hand stopping your head from hitting it.

Aww how sweet. The thought is thrown from your head when Bucky drops his head and presses kisses to your jaw, his hand curling in your hair to pull your head back, exposing your neck to him.

“Oh shit,” you whisper, as he licks a long stripe up your neck, nipping at the pulse points he finds. Your hands drop to his hips and pull him flush to you, groaning when you feel how much you’ve affected him. He kisses his way back to your lips, his metal hand moving to rest on the side of your neck, thumb resting in the front of your neck. Bucky gives you a long hard kiss then pulls back breathing hard.

“God girl, you are gonna be the death of me,” he whispers, lips brushing against yours as he talks.

“Fuck I hope not,” you respond, pulling his hips tighter against yours making him choke back a groan at the feeling.

His phone starts to ring.

Fuck off.

You pull him to you again, lips trailing across his jaw.

“Shit doll, wait a second baby-” he starts before you cut him off.

“Wait? Wait for what Buck, you don’t want me?” You tease, brushing your nose along his.

He crashes his lips against yours, his ringtone fading as his kiss overtakes your mind. Bucky pulls back after a few seconds, growling softly before stepping back to pull his phone out of his pocket.

“Are you seriously gonna answer that?” You ask, incredulous to his action.

“I have to darlin, could be an emergency,” he answers, taping the screen to answer. He puts the phone to his ear and says, “talk to me.”

You ignore his conversation, grabbing his metal hand to inspect it. The plates shift as you turn it over to look at the palm.

What an incredible feat of engineering, I wonder how it works. And how it feels-

Your dirty thoughts are cut short as he pulls his hand out of your grip, turning and taking a few steps away from you. His voice is quiet, probably to keep you from hearing whatever illegal shit they were discussing.

You jump when he shouts.

“THE FUCK? Rogers you get them to find more information on those shitheads, or I swear to fuck I will rip their fucking hearts out. I don’t care anymore, this shit needs to stop right the fuck now!” He stops his tirade and listens to ‘Rogers’ on the other side for a few second before he starts up again, “I know that asshole…one of the fuckers is married, find the wife… I have no idea if she’s involved man, I doubt it but she’d be good leverage… and get me some more information on their business so I’m not going into this shit show unprepared.”

That gets your full attention. Find the wife? Leverage? And do what? Threaten her? Hurt her? …kill her?

A shiver rips its way down your spine at that thought.

Would he do that? If she’s not a part of the issue, would he still hurt her? He already proved he’d hurt anyone that fucked him over, proved that when he stuck his gun in my mouth.

“Yeah…I know, get Stark on it, send Talia and Barton out too, see if they can get any news on the street… tell Barton to keep his cool, I don’t need anymore shit right now” Bucky says, switching the phone to his metal hand, using his flesh one to pull at his hair again.

His back is still turned to you, his coat stretches over his shoulder, the back rising with his hand in his hair.

He has a gun in his waistband.

Your eyes flit to the glock he drop on the floor earlier, and back to the one tucked in his waistband.

Is two guns really necessary?

Your answer comes with his next sentence.

“Fuck Steve I know that…you think I got this far without any personal protection? I’m good if anything happens man but I don’t think it will, they seemed pretty insistent on the fact they meant no harm..”

He continues to talk for a minute until he ends the call with a quick “get it done Steve, or we’re all fucked.” He places the phone back in his pocket, takes a few deep breaths and turns back to you with a tense look on his face. He takes another deep breath and steps towards you. Without meaning to you take a step back, hitting the wall behind you. Bucky stops as soon as he sees your movement.

“Sorry about that sweetheart, didn’t mean to upset ya.” He says, his voice quiet and calm, as if he was talking to a injured dog.

You let the silence linger for a second, deciding whether or not to ask the question that was begging to be said.

Fuck it.

“What are you going to do to her?”

He tilts his head at the question, unsure of what you’re talking about.

You take pity on his confusion.

“The wife? What are you going to do when you find her?”

Something settles in his eyes, his mouth twisting into a grim line.

“Nothing…unless I have to.” Bucky responds.

His answer does nothing to calm your pounding heart.

“You mean you won’t do anything unless you find out she’s involved?”

“Yes.”

“So you won’t do anything if she’s not a part of …whatever it is?” You ask.

“That’s right.” He nods with his answer.

“Except use her as leverage?”

He’s silent for a moment, and sighs as he rolls his left shoulder. He doesn’t break eye contact, and he’s completely resigned to whatever his answer is about to be.

“If I have to.” There is no lie in his voice, no guilt or remorse in his eyes.

Holy fuck. There’s the soldier again, the man with no mercy, does whatever he needs to come out on top.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself.

He wouldn’t hurt me. Would he?

He answers like he heard your thought.

“It’s business doll, we do what we have to do. Sometimes it’s rough and bad and awful and yes, people get hurt. Sometimes even innocent people get hurt. But I will never apologise for being the one that does the hurting, me and mine have had our fair share of getting hurt, and I’d rather hurt and use some people I don’t care about, than watch my people, my family, get hurt. I will not allow that to happen, not when I can to something about it.” He stands straight, like a soldier. The conviction in his voice actually makes you feel calmer.

Assuming I’m someone he cares about, I should be fine, right?

It slips off your tongue before you can catch it.

“Do you care about me?” You shift your weight as you talk, unsure if you actually want to hear the answer.

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.” He states, his tone steady.

“Say it properly,” you demand, crossing your arms over your chest, a subconscious way of protecting yourself, “I need you to say it properly Bucky.”

He shifts his weight now, seemingly uncomfortable.

“Yes… I do care about you,” he answers, clearing his throat in the middle of his statement, “do you care about me?”

You were unprepared for him to flip it back on you.

“I need you to answer truthfully Y/n. Do you care about me, as I am? The ‘big bad mobster’” he says, taking a step closer to you, and taking another when you don’t move away from him.

“The man who broke into your flat to threaten your roommate who owes me? The one who was going to shoot your friends dead on the street? The one who stuck a gun in your face? I’m a killer Y/n, a fucking mobster, and I’m not changing any time soon. Do you care about me as I am?” He asks, reminding you of the shit he’s done since you met him, not even counting the things you haven’t heard about.

You take a second to consider his questions.

I think I do, how fucked am I that I do?

You finally clock what he said.

“You were going to shoot who dead on the street?!”

————

hehehehe I feel like an evil mastermind.

If you are not tagged here- I either will tag you in a separate post- or I cannot tag you for some reason.

Tags:

@shuriri4life @calwitch @goodkittyspost @iateall-yourcookies @miss-i-ship-it @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @anawhitethorn @radiator-hands @tripletstephaniescp @yeahimcrying @shifting2places @1-800-bxrnes @fandomsfallnomore @bushtail @ghostofwinter @missdarlingsb @amiets2 @leabunny @justmarlen3 @bofadeezs @jehduxi @grey107th @king-of-spades-aroace @sebismyhubby @princezzjasmine @sebastianswhore @cluckityduck

@sleepyghostygirl @starlightaurorab @where-the-river-bends @imagines-of-the-fandom @bigenargy @uraverageatiny @squeezyvalkyrie @mylifeispainandiloveit @mrvlxgrl @bopbeepboopbopbeep @yvessaintmuerte @thecubanator2 @flubblubbb @teambarnes72 @ria132love @rivthejellyfish @mybakubaby @blue-chup @goatsmcgee @facinated-lemon @daddylorianisastateofmind @buckybarnesb-tch

#mob!bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky fic #mob!bucky x tattoo artist!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky x reader #mob!bucky #mob!bucky x female!reader

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gallusrostromegalus · 1 year ago

Note

all the captains and lieutenants accidentally get slipped some of ukitake's fucked up gigaweed edibles, what happens

First of all, it's not an accident, they straight-up plan a Friday-Night-Of-A-Three-Day-Weekend event of this. Everyone is curious, and Ukitake thinks it will be a funny way to celebrate his Birthday. He is correct: Yamamoto: Veteran of The Dank Arts, gets real high but not unpleasantly so. Would do it again next time he has a long weekend to enjoy it!

Sasakibe: Claims Ludwig Wittgenstein makes PERFECT sense now, attempts to write this philosophical revelation down but is thwarted by the jammed machinations of a clicky pen.

Soi Fon: Gives herself a hernia laughing at one (1) bad pun.

Yoruichi: Used to Urahara's Megaweed Edibles, so approaches the Gigaweed with undue confidence, declares This Edible Ain't Shit five minutes in and eats a second one. She has to be coaxed down from the top of the fridge where she's hiding from The Hatmen by bribing her with a can of Tuna. (Ukitake keeps the $21-a-can Good Shit in the house)

Omaeda: Creates a God-teir marinara Sauce, AND has the good sense to have Nemu pause her Game of Go and come into the kitchen to write down what he did.

Rose: Writes a magnificent new symphony, it's his best work ever, it's life alteringly beautiful, it's effervescent- When he sobers up, it's half a piccolo solo that barely qualifies as a ringtone.

Izuru: In the kitchen crying while eating an inadvisable amount of Omaeda's Spaghetti Marinara.

Retsu: Category Five Mukbang Incident

Isane: Thinks she's filming the Mukbang Incident, actually has her phone open to the calculator app.

Shinji: refuses to touch the Gigaweed because he "Owes The Hatmen Money" and nobody can tell if he's joking or not (he's not).

Momo: Literally Everything is HILARIOUS

Hiyori: Did not know it was possible to have a bigger, gayer crush on Momo, but she somehow opened up a new level of lesbianics. She calls it Gay 2.

Byakuya: Couchlocked for 24 hours straight.

Renji: Couchlocked right there with him, but able to text Izuru to bring them Spaghetti.

Komamura: Can't. Canine Weed Toxicity. (Relieved, offers to spend the weekend watching Toshiro and Yachiru so he has an excuse to go winter camping over the weekend)

Iba: Got High as FUCK. Found out later that the thing he actually ate was a Little Debbie Cosmic Brownie.

Shunsui: his alcohol tolerance actually makes his weed tolerance terrible so he's on the floor from jokingly licking the wrapper.

Nanao: Challenging people to knife fights (Romantic Intent).

Tousen: Immediately passes out because he managed to get his blood pressure down to normal levels, sleeps for 26 hours straight and wakes up feeling genuinely well-rested and in a good mood for the first time in two centuries.

Kensei: Gets his hand bitten at the Category 5 Mukbang Incident because he thought it would be funny to try to snitch off Retsu's plate.

Shuuhei: Attempting to refinance Shinji's debt with The Hatmen. Possibly succeeding?

Mashiro: Said "This Edible Ain't Shit", took a second, and appears to be unaffected. Playing Go with Nemu and winning.

Matsumoto: Makes the Hernia-inducing Pun. Will not STOP making Puns.

Hitsugaya: Being babysat by Komamura, would be madder about this if he wasn't also having a blast doing wintertime camping.

Kenpachi: Attempts to fight his own shadow, loses.

Yachiru: Also on the Wintertime Mountain Expedition, trying to talk Toshiro into joining her and Komamura on an Elk Hunt.

Ikkaku: Has done weed before, but only smoked it, but has a naturally suspicious nature and waits to see how Yoruichi does on her second edible, and avoids running afoul of The Hatmen.

Yumichika: Stays sober to collect blackmail on everyone. Actually films the Mukbang Incident for Isane

Mayuri: This is NOTHING compared to the Quantum Formaldymeth shit he's been on for the last century.

Urahara: from a prominent weed-growing family and lifetime connoisseur of The Herb. Takes one bite and realizes he's in deep shit, lies down on the floor next to Shuuhei and gives him terrible financial advice.

Nemu: Not chemically effected by The Edible but she loves A Group Social Activity so she's a little crunk on Social Recognition Euphoria and it's interfering with her game.

Ukitake, peeling his lieutenant off the floor: Y'all are wimps.

Rukia: has to be peeled off the floor, is affectionately dumped in the laps of Renji and Byakuya, where she forces them to have an emotionally honest and borderline normal conversation.

#AEIWAM #drugs mention #An Elephant Is Warm And Mushy #Bleach #Bleach fanfic #long post #weed mention

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reneesghostinthelivingroom · 3 months ago

Note

How about a Regina George x fem reader (I'm not a writer just a reader lol, the best I can do is song lyrics so I'm sorry if this idea has been taken or sucks)

Rivalry Turned Romance:

Your character and Regina are rivals in some way.

Initially, their interactions are filled with snarky remarks and subtle sabotage as they try to outdo each other. However, beneath the rivalry, there's a mutual respect and fascination.

As they spend more time together, they start to appreciate each other's strengths and vulnerabilities. Their competitive banter gradually turns into playful flirting, and they realize there's more to their relationship than just rivalry.

Rivalry Lights the Spark for Romance

|| Regina George x fem!reader

|| Warnings; swearing, brief mentions of getting drunk, reader and regina rivalry, enemies to friends and lovers mention, long fic

|| Summary; reader and regina never got along. Like, ever. It would be a cold day in hell if they did. There was always something for the girls to argue over... until there wasn't.

Requests open!

Started; September 17th

Finished; September 17th

~~~

Regina George. The two of you were in a stare down from across the cafeteria. You sat with your group of friends, she sat with hers. Regina and you have had a long standing rivalry that dates back to sixth grade. When Regina stopped being human. Your friend group and hers used to be one big group that hung out together all the time. Then the Janis incident happened and you and your friends sided with Janis.

You, Prudence Ollia, Savie Lane and Nyla Caves were deemed 'weirdos' for doing so. While Regina, Gretchen and Karen grew in popularity. Janis was left on the side lines. You and her haven't hung out at all in the more recent years. Since highschool you've just lost touch with each other.

Which brings us back to present day.

"So. What's our next sabotage plan for Lilith over there?" Prudence asked. Lilith was the code name which your group had made for Regina when you talked about her in public and didn't want others to know.

You didn't take your eyes off Regina. It was like the two of you were in some game of chicken. First one to look away loses," huh?" You asked, not really paying attention.

"Next sabotage plan." Prudence simplified.

"Oh!" Savie grinned as she slammed her hands on the side of the table, looking at the three of you with mischief in her eyes," we replace her shampoo with hairdye. Give her green hair."

"Classic." Nyla nodded with a laugh," but none of us would even be able to step foot in Regina's house."

"Actually, I'm pretty certain her mom still thinks Lilith and I are absolute besties. Maybe I could give it a try, make an excuse like she left something in her room for me to pick up or whatever. Lilith's mom probably wouldn't even think to ask for details." You stated, eyes still on the blonde. You swear she hasn't even blinked once this whole stare down.

"I'll buy the hair dye," Savie did an excited clap. She was usually the most hyped up when it came to the sabotage plans.

That night, you did exactly what you had said you would. Luckily Ms George did think the two of you were still friends and Regina happened to be out at a party. So you were able to pull things off pretty smoothly.

The following day, Regina George showed up to school with bright lime green hair. But instead of laughing, people were in awe. And lime green hair was a trend over the next couple weeks.

Regina remained unaffected, which annoyed you to no end. How does everything you do just boost her popularity? It was infuriating. Though you couldn't help but respect her just a little. Only a little.

She walked by your locker as you were grabbing your trumpet out for music class," What? Too cool for green hair, L/N?" She smirked at you when she noticed you hadn't dyed yours to follow the trend. That technically you started.

"Shouldn't you be off trying to steal Christmas, Grinch?" You replied, trumpet case by your side.

Her eyes widened just slightly in annoyance and she snatched your case from you, flicking it open and taking the mouth piece. She handed your trumpet back," good luck in music, loser." Regina winked at you as she walked away. Mouth piece in her fist.

You sighed deeply. Honestly surprised she even recognized that piece was important. You didn't think Regina knew anything about music. Though the only grievance her act actually caused you was a lecture from the music teacher about not "losing" pieces to your instrument.

So it didn't bother you all that much. Which annoyed Regina, but she had a small respect for it. But it was only small.

Things like this would continue to happen between the two of you throughout the rest of the year. Each of you gaining a little bit more respect for the other.

One day, a few weeks before the Christmas talent show, Regina passed by your locker and gave you her signature smirk.

"Hey, L/N. Signing up for the talent show?" She asked, clearly she wasn't really interested. However, unless you were seeing incorrectly, her eyes scanned your body. It was quick and easy to miss if you didn't happen to be looking in her eyes when it happened- what? Pfft, no you weren't staring into Regina's eyes. You hated her.

"Yeah, actually. You still doing that tradition of yours?" You replied, arms folded across your chest as you leaned against your locker.

Regina scoffed, folding her own arms," obviously. Bet it's better than whatever you're doing."

"Playing the trumpet without a mouth piece. You know, when you stole it it gave me the idea to actually give it a try. Kinda fun," You grinned at her. Yes you did it specifically so you could rub it in her face that you were unbothered.

You saw her eye twitch ," whatever, loser."

Christmas was nearing, the talent show was here. You were on before the plastics and Mr Duvall called your name to the stage.

You walked on and took a seat, trumpet held in front of you. You took a breath and got ready to play. Only no sound came out when you tried.

"What?" You muttered to yourself and turned your trumpet around, looking down into it. Apparently someone had stuffed it with pink slime. Not the runny kind, but the kind that looks more like rubber. You rolled your eyes. You didn't need the pink to tell you who had done this," Just a moment."

You got up and took the slime out as you headed back stage, looking for Regina. When you found her; her and her crew were laughing. Presumably at you. They hadn't noticed you approach, so you took your chance.

You threw the slime directly at Regina, it slapped her in the face and landed in her hair. Getting stuck. She screamed and her eyes snapped to your direction.

"Oh you're so dead!" She immediately walked towards you, you stood your ground even after getting a solid bitch slap from the blonde.

The two of you were now in a full on brawl, you knocked Regina to the ground but she pinned you there. The both of you wrestled each other.

Gretchen and Karen shared a look while Cady encouraged it. Being the fake she is.

It didn't take long for Ms Norbury to find you and Regina and separate the both of you.

"She attacked me!" Regina yelled.

"You punched first!" You yelled back.

Ms Norbury sighed deeply," I don't care who started it, ladies. You are both just as involved as the other." Her eyes landed on the slime in Regina's hair," Regina, go get cleaned up. Y/N Mr Duvall's office. Regina you'll meet her there. You have ten minutes before I come get you to make sure you go."

"Ugh. This is so fucking stupid," Regina muttered.

"You're fucking stupid," You muttered right back as you both walked out. Narrowing your eyes at each other.

Soon enough, the both of you are in Mr Duvall's office. Just waiting for the talent show to be over as Ms Norbury waited with you. Keeping an eye on you both in case another fight started.

When Mr Duvall finally joined you, he looked... more disappointed than anything. Or maybe he was just tired.

"How many times must we do this?" He asked. This was not the first time you and Regina had been in his office together.

You and Regina gave each other a side eye.

"It put slime in my trumpet," You pointed to Regina.

"'It'?!" She looked ready to fight you again.

"Girls! Please." Duvall sighed and leaned forward, arms rested on his desk." Both of you are in the wrong. Both of you are being punished. You'll have detention with each other for the rest of this week and next. And you'll be given tasks from the janitor. Maybe if you work together on it... you'll at least tolerate each other more and I won't get so many headaches."

You did not tolerate each other more.

At least, not at first. The first few clean up tasks were absolutely hell.

That was until the janitor trusted you and Regina with floor cleaning machine. (i wish it had a better name but i could not find anything. they're those zamboni things. i'm just gonna call it a zamboni 😭)

You don't know how you earned his trust to use this but you did. School was out for the day and you and Regina had to stay behind, the janitor left already. Leaving the two of you to work alone with this.

You glanced at Regina and grinned. "Bumper cars?"

Regina raised an eyebrow," you're so stupid."

"Come on! You know you want to~!"

"Absolutely not." She folded your arms and started walking away.

You got an even better idea." Slip and slide?"

That got her to pause and consider it. She looked back at you," if it will get you to shut up."

"Definitely." It wouldn't.

You and Regina worked together to get the floor of a hall cleaned up with the cleaning zambonis. Once it was done, you took a running start from around the corner then sprinted down the hall. Sliding the whole way down and trying to stay on your feet. You did not. You landed on your ass about half way down.

Regina laughed as she watched you and thought 'screw it' as she did the same thing. She made it about the same length as you, then fell on her front with a thud.

The two of you laid on the floor and laughing, looking at each other with smiles on your faces. Maybe Regina George wasn't so bad. What you didn't know is that Regina was starting to think the same about you.

"Hey. Wanna ditch this and go get bobas?" You asked, you doubted she would even agree.

Regina seemed to hesitate for a moment before she got off the floor," yeah, sure. But you're paying."

"Aw, whattt? You're like a billionaire." You stood and followed her out of the school.

"So?"

You rolled your eyes but smiled. The halls didn't get cleaned that night, but it seems Mr Duvall's strategy worked a little better than he thought it would.

The two of you rekindled your friendship, you still annoyed each other to no end but on a less... chaotic scale. It was more controlled and less sabotages.

And later it even became more as you and Regina had a very intense drunk make out session.

#x reader #fanfic #canon x reader #fem reader #wlw fiction #mean girls x reader #mean girls #regina george #regina george x fem!reader

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antimatterz · 1 year ago

Text

reverberating ruin

blade, seele, jing yuan, yanqing, dan heng (normal and imbibitor lunae separately), kafka x gn!reader

summary: how they react when you praise them after hitting high numbers of damage.

cw: self-aware au, just a short headcanon post

enyo's note: featuring my previous or current favorite dps characters. title is the achievement unlocked when you hit 300k damage. my dan heng favorism might show in this? tagging @hiraethsdesires <3

content under the cut | masterlist

blade

it was in a boss battle that blade suddenly struck the highest number you'd ever seen from him. as you yelped in surprise, he just looked at you weirdly, as if to ask, what's the matter?

you point at the screen, which adds to his confusion only more. did he do something wrong? he couldn't imagine; he served you as he was supposed to do as your main dps.

"bladie!" you exclaimed. "you– that was insane!"

insane? what was insane?

you gushed, "i thought this damage only existed in streamers' videos. you're the best!"

he would never admit it, but his immortal heart fluttered a little when your words of praise landed upon his ears.

"i just did what i'm supposed to do," blade huffed as he folded his arms and averted his gaze away from the screen.

he tried so hard to act unaffected but your words do something to him. his mindset is void of any positivity, so the feeling is quite foreign to blade. it had been ages since he last experienced something like that.

please praise this man more often!

seele

it was just a normal battle in the overworld. nothing special, no special buffs or whatsoever. as your opponents gathered afore you on the screen. seele pariently awaited her turn before she dashed off with her insanely fast attacks.

merely a single strike, but a huge number flew across the screen. your jaw dropped and you squeaked her name in delight. seele shot you a sideways glance but continued battle, and only when every foe is down, she asked you about it.

"you did a massive amount of damage!" you gleefully told her. "i'm so proud of you, seele!"

her purple gaze widened upon your words, and she opened her mouth to say something but words didn't come out; you severely caught her off-guard with your praise.

"it's nothing," she sputtered. "it's just my duty."

she actually got shy, not something that occured a lot.

acted indifferent but was quite happy with your praise.

jing yuan

in a boss battle, he was playfully showing off without making it known to you – but yes, occasionally he liked to show off just for you because he enjoyed the way you gushed over him.

accompanied by the lightning lord, he caused a huge number to fly across the screen, making you gasp in awe.

"aeons, jing yuan," you said. "you're so strong."

he put up a humble act, hiding his smile because he knew he was strong. regardless, he loved being told so by you, which is why he tried a little harder sometimes.

"only for you," he shot you a playful wink.

continued battle even more fiercely, and while he was fully aware of the high numbers he hit, he loved to hear you praise him for it.

it was kind of like a game to him.

getting praise as he effortlessly hit numbers with more digits than you were used to. what more could he wish for? notice the satisfied smile the sleepy general wore as he fought your battles.

yanqing

the boy always tried so hard for you, never satisfied with his peformance. always eager for battle, only to be disappointed with himself when he deemed his damage unworthy.

so when you suddenly let out a squeal after he one-shot an opponent he haltsled his movements mid-battle. he gazed at you through the screen curiously.

"what?" he asked.

"yanqing!" you giggled. "did you see that?"

"see what?" he inquired, not quite getting it.

"that was a bizarre hit! you literally one-shot that dude," you chimed. "thank you, you're amazing!"

"i–" the boy began, cheeks flushing red. "it's uh, it's nothing. i'm just fulfilling my duty."

"that doesn't make it any less cool," you countered. "i'm proud of you, yanqingie. you did well."

aeons, he was so happy, but tried to play it off coolly. but after your words of praise, he tried even harder and harder, now with newfound motivation.

please praise him more often, so that he could finally feel proud of himself as well!

dan heng

honestly, you weren't sure what to expect from a free character. that couldn't be too good, right?

but dan heng proved the opposite multiple times already with numbers that reached higher and higher.

until he suddenly hit a number so high that it had you yelp in surprise upon seeing it fly across your screen; was dan heng really capable of hitting such numbers? well, apparently he was, and you were delighted.

"dan heng!" you exclaimed. "did you see that?"

"i did," he calmly replied. "what's the matter?"

"that was an insane number!" you explained. "aeons, you're amazing."

at this point dan heng's cheeks flushed a little bit, but he tried to hide it. "it's simply because you gave me a good build."

you tried to praise him, but he turned it right back towards you. that wasn't part of the plan? you got a little flustered as well.

"i just got lucky while farming for relics," you shrugged it off. secretly you just put in a lot of extra effort because you liked him, but that was your little secret.

dan heng (imbibitor lunae)

you had been pre-farming for him for quite a while, mainly to have good relics ready for him. you managed to create a build you were quite proud of and as soon as he came home, you equipped them.

beforehand you had heard great things about imbibitor lunae, and you were eager to see him in action now that he was built and leveled.

well, he instantly hit amazing numbers right off the bat and it left you speechless. you simply squealed in pure glee because ??? you just got him and he already outdid all your previous dps characters in terms of damage.

"oh my god, you're awesome," you impulsively chimed with a little too much enthusiasm. you clasped your hands over your mouth but dan heng offered you a faint smile, amused by your happiness.

"i merely do what you expect me to do," he explained. "i don't deserve your words of praise, but i am grateful regardless."

"as long as you know that i'm super happy with you," you told him with a smile. "you're a gamechanger."

you already loved dan heng in his normal form, but in his vidhadyara form he was even more amazing – you instantly had a new favorite dps, and you would make sure that he knew how happy you were with him.

kafka

when you pulled for her, you never expected her to take on the role of a dps. but from the start she hit quite some large numbers, while you thought of her as only a debuffer.

well, jokes on you, this lady is strong.

equipped with both a gun and a sword, she took down opponents with ease, and you can't help but gush over every defeat. and she knew how you reacted, shooting you a coy grin often.

you didn't even have to voice your praise; it was all over your face, your entire demeanor. and it spurred her on to do even more damage.

"you're so–" you began, but she cut you off with a smile.

"i know, darling," she said coyly. "you simply make me want to my best. you're adorable, after all."

you tried to praise her, but she threw it right back at you and you ended up being quite flustered. but secretly she loved it when you spoke so highly of her.

it went so effortlessly. and aeons, did she look good while fighting. numbers flew across the screen, leaving you stunned. well, that's kafka for you.

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thedemoninme141 · 1 month ago

Text

Her Heartbeat, Chapter 11: Her Light

Summary: Wednesday doubts if she is worthy.

Warnings: EmotionallyConfusedWednesday! Whipped Wednesday For The 100th Time?

Chapter 1

Previous Chapter

Worklist

"Does anyone else know about... your..." she trailed off, eyes narrowing slightly as the words slipped from her control.

"No, not really, it's just you and Principal Weems cause you know... she had to know."

That should have been enough. That should have been the end of it. She should’ve felt content with the information, perhaps even relieved. But the question itched her mind too much... and.. maybe she already knew the answer.

“Where were you at the end of last year?”

Wednesday stepped into the quad, She couldn’t help but recall the absurd moments from yesterday— It had gone on like that for what felt like hours, though Wednesday knew it couldn’t have been that long. She was relentless with her snowballs, and you... you just kept laughing. Each time you threw one, you missed by a mile, and each time she hit you, you giggled.

She had never thought she would find herself in such a situation—engaging in something so childish. She wasn’t one for frivolous games, much less anything involving laughter. But there you were, gleefully playing in the snow as if it were real. There was something about the way you looked so carefree, so alive in those fleeting moments, that made her feel… different.

Not quite happy, but certainly something close.

"You’re smiling," you had said, "I think you’re actually enjoying this too."

Wednesday had rolled her eyes at your comment, though the truth of it stung. Enjoyment wasn’t something she indulged in often. But for you… somehow, it had felt right. She wasn’t sure how to explain it. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to explain it.

She hadn’t even noticed you walking up beside her until your voice broke the trance. "Planning to murder someone Wends?"

"Something like that," she said, avoiding your eyes.

The tradition of you two was getting its place back. Wednesday definitely didn't miss this. As you two sat on the table, , She pulled out her book, trying to appear unaffected as always, but your presence made it difficult to focus. You were back in your cheerful mood, which means.. she still has this.

As she tried to immerse herself in the text, you spoke again, softly.

"I.. slept really well last night. I just wanted to say thanks again. Yesterday was... nice."

Wednesday’s fingers paused on the page. Nice wasn’t a word she often liked to associate with herself. But she said nothing, letting the silence settle between you. You didn’t need to speak for her to understand how you felt—it was written in the way you sat closer to her… much closer. Enid plopped down next to you with a bright smile. "Heeey! You guys look cozy! Can I join in too?" She exclaimed, her eyes flicking between the two of you.

You smiled at Enid awkwardly as you moved a bit away from Wednesday and Wednesday felt a little heat rising to her face.

Though Wednesday’s eyes skimmed over the words in her book, her attention was far from the page. The sound of your voice as you spoke to the others, the ease with which you interacted, was both comforting and unsettling. Her mind went back to the conversation she had with you as you ticked off "Play in the snow with a friend"

“Where were you at the end of last year?”

The question spilled out before she could stop it, and for a fleeting moment, Wednesday wondered if she had crossed a line. “If it’s too personal, you don’t have to tell me,” she added. It was rare for her to give anyone an out, but there was something about the vulnerability in your gaze that made her do it.

You looked at her then, really looked at her, and she noticed how your hands trembled slightly as you fiddled with the edges of your sleeves. But the look in your eyes... it wasn't the one of the discomfort she saw when Bianca had asked you the same question... it was one of trust.

“No, Wends,” you said softly, the playful name that she once hated.. but now, it sounded… vulnerable. “It’s okay. I… I was at home when it happened. It was the first time I had a heart failure,” the words slow as though you were reliving the moment in your head, struggling to recount something that clearly pained you. “Luckily, I was in my home when it happened. If I hadn’t been… I don’t know. Maybe I wouldn’t be here right now.”

The idea of you not being here, of you being gone...was unimaginable. She didn’t want to think about it right now, though she told you she had thought about this.. it.. was a lie.

“Hey, Wends. Breakfast’s almost over, and you’ve barely touched your food.” you pulled her out of her reverie.

She glanced down at her untouched plate, realizing she had spent far too long in her own head. “I’m not hungry.”

“You should eat,” you said gently, though Wednesday heard the undertone of concern in your voice. “You said you had math first period, right?”

Wednesday nodded, pushing her plate aside. “Yes.”

"Me too." She already knew, not that she memorized it or anything.

The walk to class was quiet, but Wednesday found herself glancing at you more than she would’ve liked. She could see it—the way your steps were just a little slower than the others, how your hand occasionally brushed against your chest as if reassuring yourself that your heart was still beating. She couldn’t shake the feeling that, despite everything, she wasn’t capable of giving you what you needed. She wasn’t sure she even knew how.

She tried to focus on the equations scrawled across the board, but her mind was far too loud, too distracted. She thought about your diary—the list of wishes. Some were simple, yes, but others… they had weight to them, meaning she hadn’t quite unraveled yet.

You wanted to leave a mark, that much was clear. Each wish was a step toward something permanent, something you could be remembered for. Wednesday understood that more than most. She had spent her life creating her own legacy, etching herself into the world in ways others couldn’t ignore. But your wishes were different—they weren’t for power or fame. They were for moments, for experiences, for things that made you feel alive.

The bell rang, pulling her out of her thoughts. You turned to her, that same gentle smile on your face as you gathered your things. “See you later, Wends. I’ve got Botany next.” She also knew that, not that she memorized it or anything.

Wednesday didn’t respond immediately, watching as you left the room. There was something about the way you moved, the way you carried yourself, that kept pulling her back in. It wasn’t the first time she’d found herself fixated on you, but now… it felt more intense, more intrusive.

As the history teacher droned on, Wednesday found herself staring blankly at the chalkboard. She had always been a diligent student, but today, her mind was elsewhere. History had never been her least favorite subject, but right now, she found herself hating it simply because you weren’t here.

You were supposed to be here.

Why couldn’t you have picked something else, something that matched her schedule? Botany wasn’t even remotely interesting, Maybe poisonous plants are but everything else? So full of.. life.

Perhaps she could convince—or threaten—you into changing your classes to align with hers. It would make things easier, wouldn't it?

She sighed. It wasn’t her place to dictate what you did, especially when she was still unsure if she even deserved the trust you had placed in her. You had opened up to her, let her in, and yet here she was, unable to even decipher something as simple as a wish in your diary.

“Catch light.”

How could someone catch light? Was it a metaphor, or was there something deeper, more personal, behind it?

She could ask you. You would probably tell her, and yet… it felt like cheating. It felt like she wouldn’t be worthy if she needed to ask. Wednesday prided herself on being able to solve puzzles, to figure things out on her own, but this one…

Her thoughts were interrupted by the teacher’s voice, “In ancient Japan, fireflies were often caught by women as a symbol of love—specifically, a love that was almost feverish, burning bright and intense.”

Wednesday paused, Wednesday’s lips twitched into a rare smirk. Catch light, huh? “Idiot,” though she wasn’t sure who she was referring, you or herself.

The morning dragged on as it always did—math, followed by history, then chemistry—all predictable, all routine. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t concentrate.

By the time lunch rolled around, Wednesday’s irritation had peaked. Her normally sharp focus felt dulled, worn down by the persistent distraction you had become. She made her way to the hallway that led to the quad, where you usually waited for her. And there you were, standing near the wall, a small smile tugging at your lips as you saw her approach.

"Hey, Wends," you greeted her, your voice carrying a warmth that made Wednesday’s chest tighten involuntarily.

“Why are you standing here?” she asked, her tone sharper than she intended, though you didn’t seem to mind.

“I wanted to walk with you. We’re heading the same way, aren’t we?” You fell into step beside her as you both walked toward the table where Enid, Bianca, Eugene, and Yoko were already seated.

“You could have gone ahead,” Wednesday muttered.

“I could have,” you said lightly, “but I didn’t want to.”

As you approached the table, Enid waved enthusiastically. "Hey, guys! Over here!"

You slid into the seat beside Enid, leaving the corner spot free for Wednesday. She sat down next to you, her usual scowl in place as she pulled out her book.

Enid and Yoko were already deep into a discussion about something, and you joined them too.

Enid noticed that you looked happy today. “I’m so glad to see you back in your light mood!” she exclaimed, nudging you playfully. "You had me worried yesterday."

"I’m feeling better now." you gave her a kind smile.

“Good. Maybe that means Wednesday will be less… Wednesday now.” Bianca joked,

Wednesday didn’t look up from her book. “If by ‘less Wednesday’ you mean that I’ve stopped plotting your demise, then you’re mistaken.”

You giggled softly beside her, the sound light and sweet, pulling her attention away from the text in her hands for just a moment. Her eyes flickered toward you, and she felt something shift within her. Your laugh—it was small and yet it lingered in her thoughts. Perhaps she should insult Bianca more often.

As the conversation continued, Wednesday remained silent, her focus returning to her book—or at least, she tried, but her mind went back to you again...

“I was in a coma for a few days,” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “When I woke up… I was so weak. I couldn’t even stand on my own.”

Wednesday felt the overwhelming urge to reach out, to do something, anything—but she didn’t. She remained still, letting you speak.

"It just… everything felt different after that. Like my life wasn’t really mine anymore. Like I was just… waiting for it to happen again. And.. I am still waiting."

Wednesday felt the anger rise in her again. Anger at the universe for doing this to you, for making you carry something so heavy, so suffocating, and for putting her in this position—making her care, making her feel.

She wanted to say something, to offer you some kind of comfort, but she didn’t know how. The words felt too large, too foreign, stuck in her throat. She wasn’t built for this kind of thing—for vulnerability, for comfort. She had crafted her life around avoiding these moments, these feelings. And yet, here you were, pulling her into something she didn’t know how to navigate.

"I see," was all she managed, her voice flat, too cold for the storm of emotions swirling inside her. She hated herself for how detached she sounded, how clinical. But what else could she say? She wasn’t Enid, overflowing with empathy and warmth. She wasn’t capable of that.

And for the first time, Wednesday Addams wondered if she was worthy of the trust you had placed in her. If she was truly worthy of being the person who could help you fulfill your wishes.

Bianca's question to you had pulled her back to the world,

“So, what was bothering you yesterday? Was it something Wednesday said?”

Wednesday felt your posture stiffen beside her. You were quick to defend her, as she expected, but then you hesitated, fumbling for words. “No, it wasn’t... I mean, Wednesday didn’t say anything wrong. She—” Wednesday felt you tense beside her. Her eyes flicked to you, watching as your smile faltered. You hesitated, searching for an answer, your hand resting nervously on your lap. No one else knew about your heart condition, and Wednesday could see the weight of that secret in your expression.

Without thinking, she slipped her hand under the table, her fingers brushing against yours. Her touch was deliberate, hidden from the others, and as your hands met, she felt it, the warmth of your hand through the cold of her's, and the cold of hers... making you relax as your breathing steadied, and you turned to Bianca with a calm smile.

“I was feeling a bit cold yesterday,” you said, your voice soft but steady. “But now I feel warm.”

And as you sat there, your hand still in hers, Wednesday understood something she hadn’t before.

It didn’t take grand gestures or flowery words to be worthy of your trust, your affection. All it took was this—just a touch. A simple, quiet gesture that grounded you, that made you feel safe.

Wednesday glanced down at the table. She had never been the type to offer emotional comfort. But with you… perhaps she didn’t need to be. Perhaps this was enough.

For you, just for you, maybe, just maybe, she was worthy.

Next Chapter

[Sorry for the short chapter, I was too sleepy when I wrote this, tell me if this chapter is worthy for your heartbeat.]

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aphroditeinthesea · 9 months ago

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can you do connor stoll x reader where the reader got to camp a month ago and they havent talk yet. there personalities are both loud and defined and over time they become really good friends. then they start to realize they like each other as more then friends... but the reader is a child of Poseidon and has to leave with the argo two.

“ i’m such a fool for you ”

connor stoll x daughter of poseidon 🐍

reader comes to terms with feelings for her best friend while trying to deal with the disappearance of her brother

tw none

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Y/N found herself befriending the younger of the Stoll brothers after a prank he had pulled on her only a little after she had arrived at camp. On a morning where her brother had left the cabin early, so she was alone in cabin 3, she found her cabin surrounded by cups of water as she tried to leave. At first she thought she thought this was the dumbest prank to pull on her, after all, she could control water. However, when she tried to empty the cups, the water wouldn't budge. No matter how hard she tried, the cups stayed still, unaffected. She began to panic, wondering if she had somehow lost her powers overnight. So, she grabbed the cup closest to her, just to find that it wasnt water at all, just clear jello.

“Hey, L/N!” she heard called. She looked up to find Connor Stoll standing in front of her, holding a cup identical to the ones that surrounded her, “how’re the water works going?”

She huffed, “Did you two do this?!”

“Actually,” he smiled, “I did this one myself.”

“Good to know,” she watched him take a sip of his cup, “by the way,” she began.

“What?” He asked before his drink was entirely splashed onto his face.

“You're cleaning this up, Stoll.”

Despite her initial annoyance, she had to admit the cleverness of it. She only wished she could find a way to return the favor.

Which she did, as she was somehow able to get Travis on board. During a game of capture the flag, she snuck back to camp and hid in the Hermes cabin, where after the game, while everyone was still celebrating the winning team, Travis would tell Connor they needed to talk in private.

She watched Connor follow behind his brother as they walked in, “dude, is it something serious or like-” Before he could finish, a puddle of water that had been floating above him, poured down like a rainstorm.

“So,” Y/N laughed, walking over to him, “how’re the water works going for you?”

He wiped his eyes, “good one, L/N,” he sarcastically sighed.

She nodded, beginning to walk out of the cabin, “by the way, thanks for the help, Travis!”

“You helped her?!” She could hear Connor exclaim on the other side of the door as she giggled to herself.

The joy of her revenge was short lived though. The day after, she found her older brother to be missing.

She sat on the sandy beach, asking her father for help, but hearing nothing in response. She tried to calm her anxieties by drawing circles in the sand.

“Y/N?” She heard a familiar voice call from behind her.

She took a deep breath before forcing a smile and turning her head, “hey, Stoll.”

“I heard about your brother,” he sat down next to her.

She nodded, “yeah, I’m sure he’s fine, but still…”

He bit his cheek, “you know, if you weren't all upset and everything, I would have totally gotten you back for yesterday.”

She chuckled, “You’d really start a prank war with me?”

“You bet,” he smirked.

“Try me.”

So then on, the only thing that could cheer her up through the months that her brother was missing was the same person who annoyed her most. Or so she said.

“Seems like Annabeth’s pretty stressed about that one shoe boy, huh?” Connor mentioned as they walked through the forest.

“Yeah,” Y/N answered. She didn't want to admit how hopeful she was about the prophecy. She was sure there were lots of demigods who could lose a shoe, gods know she has plenty of times.

“Pretty embarrassing for him though,” he joked, “you get back to camp after months and you're a mess.”

“Connor,” she spoke as she stopped walking.

He paused, “yeah?”

“I know it’s not gonna be my brother,” she added, “I just know. And I really just don't wanna think about it right now.”

He nodded, “oh, sorry,” he awkwardly responded, “but you gotta admit, it’d be embarrassi-”

She grabbed a stick off the ground and poked him in the side, “shut up.”

He raised an eyebrow and grabbed his own stick, “make me.”

“You!” She yelled, trying to stab him with the stick again, but he instead began running.

He ran backwards, looking back at her, “you have to admit, I’m pretty fast.”

“You're such an idiot!”

“What do you mean-” he asked right before slamming his back into a tree.

Y/N cackled as she reached him, “that’s what I mean,” she smirked, poking him with the stick.

“Kick me while I’m down, that’s real nice.”

She smiled and helped pull him up. She lingered her grip on his hand for a little too long before letting go, but she noticed his hand not even budge enclosed in her fingers. They both awkwardly stayed silent for a moment, feeling like there was something on the tip of their tongues that they both wanted to say.

“Y/N!” Annabeth’s voice rang through the forest. Annabeht stopped as she stared at the two of them, “Y/N, he’s here, come on.”

Y/N nodded, “right,” she began walking towards Annabeth, “see you later, Connor,” she waved.

He stood still for a moment, “bye.”

She walked alongside Annabeth, trying to shake the feeling in her chest.

“Let me get this straight,” Connor questioned. He was in the middle of training with Y/N when she told him about the plan, “you’re going to the Roman camp with Annabeth, Jason, Piper, and Leo?”

She nodded, resting her sword down, “yeah.”

He shook his head, “you can't just go like that, L/N.”

“What?” She breathily laughed, not believing what he had just said, “it’s my brother, I have to go with them.”

He ran his fingers through his hair, “but that’s- what am I supposed to do with that?”

“You have friends other than me,” she replied, “this isn't about you, Connor.”

He sat down on a nearby bench, “I know but…”

She sat next to him, “but?”

“Y/N,” he egan, “I’ve been really wanting to tell you something and I can’t yet.”

She nudged his shoulder, “you're my best friend, Connor. Come on, hit me.”

He sighed, “you're really going?”

“Yes,” she muttered, “now, will you just tell me?”

He stood up, “can we talk somewhere else?”

“Alright,” she obliged. He suddenly grabbed her hand and led her away. She might’ve said something if she didn't enjoy the feeling of his hand in hers so damn much. When he walked into her empty cabin she knew whatever he had to say was important.

He hesitantly let go of her hand, “Y/N, I- uhm- I really, really like you,” he whispered, “I get that you have a lot going on right now, but-”

She smirked, grabbing his face and kissing his lips. She couldn't tell how long this went on. All she knew was that he immediately relaxed into the kiss, his hands finding her waist to pull her closer to him. She knew that she could feel his lips curled into a smile that mirrored her own.

When they pulled away, their faces were still only centimeters apart and a trail of saliva reached between their lips, “I kinda like you too, Stoll.”

He just smiled even more, quickly pulling her into another kiss.

#connor stoll x reader #connor stoll #travis stoll #stoll brothers #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson #percy jackson x sister!reader #daughter of poseidon #child of poseidon #daughter of neptune #child of neptune #cabin 3 #cabin 11 #son of hermes #child of hermes #heroes of olympus #trials of apollo

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