#so apparently I have a thing for smudged eyeliner

[runariya]

Hello ! I'm new on your blog, but already a big fan of your writting, i think you're very creative.

Since you're doing prompt game today, could i get a bird hybrid JK, who is very much trying to court and give his mating feather to the reader, but she is like clueless, because he never really talked to her, only stared and hoped she would get the hint. 🐉🥸🥰

Thanks for your attention, sending love from Brazil (sorry if my writting is bad, english is my second language) 🫶🏻

(fantasy+yandere+fluff) part of the prompt game pairing: owl hybrid!Jungkook x human!female reader genre: fantasy!AU, coworkers2lovers, hybrid!AU warnings: none word count: 1.736

a/n: hey! thanks a lot for this ask, I've never written a bird hybrid AU lol and I hope it's yandere-ish enough from her POV...um grande abrade para o Brasil 💕 sinta-se abracado

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You’ve always prided yourself on being good at reading people. Working in a law firm will do that to you—you’ve learned to spot lies, pick up on subtle body language, and know when someone’s about to break under pressure. What you’re not so good at, though, is reading owl hybrids.

And, unfortunately, that’s a bit of a problem since your coworker, Jeon Jungkook, is one.

Jungkook isn’t just a regular owl hybrid either—he’s an associate lawyer at the firm, and he’s good. Really good. He’s smart, confident, and, to your endless frustration, almost annoyingly attractive. You’ve spent months working alongside him, but recently, something’s changed.

He’s been…weird.

It starts small. Little things you could have brushed off as quirks or hybrid instincts. Jungkook’s always been quiet and reserved, the type to work late into the night without bothering anyone. But lately, he’s been hovering. Not in an obvious way—that would be too easy to call him out on. No, it’s more subtle. He’s just…there. Not like usual just watching you from afar, which you always thought just how his nature is, but in your space more often than not.

Like the time you caught him standing behind you as you were trying to photocopy a case file. You hadn’t heard him approach—typical owl stealth—but there he was, staring at the back of your head with wide, unblinking eyes. You jumped, papers flying everywhere.

“Jungkook!” you’d yelped, clutching the case file to your chest. “What are you doing?”

He blinked, clearly startled by your reaction, then rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “Uh, just… waiting for the copier.”

“Right,” you’d breathed, even though you knew for a fact that the other copier across the room was wide open. But, well, you didn’t want to be that person—the one who makes a big deal out of nothing. So, you let it slide.

Except it doesn’t stop there.

Next comes the coffee incident. You’re not a morning person—never have been, never will be. Jungkook, however, is apparently the exact opposite. He’s always bright-eyed and bushy-tailed—well, minus the bushy tail part—by the time you shuffle into the office, usually with your hair still half-damp and your face smudged from hastily applied eyeliner.

One morning, you stumble in, bleary-eyed and ready to beg the coffee machine for mercy, only to find a steaming cup of your exact coffee order already sitting on your desk. With a little sticky note.

‘Thought you’d need this. – JK’

You stare at the note for a long moment. Jungkook’s handwriting is neat and a little loopy, not at all what you’d expect from someone so intense. And the coffee? Well, it’s perfect. Too perfect. You glance over at Jungkook’s desk, but he’s already pretending to be absorbed in his work, typing away like he’s the picture of innocence.

You decide to let that one slide too.

But then comes the feather.

It’s late one evening, well past office hours, and you’re both working overtime to meet a deadline. You’re going through yet another pile of documents, eyes straining under the fluorescent lights, when Jungkook approaches your desk. He’s got that look again—the one that’s a little too intense, like he’s about to ask you a life-altering question.

“Hey, you okay?” you ask, half-distracted by the file in front of you.

Jungkook doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he reaches into the pocket of his suit jacket and pulls something out. You blink at it, confused. It’s…a feather.

A big, soft, brown and white feather.

He holds it out to you, looking more serious than you’ve ever seen him.

“I, uh, wanted to give you this.”

You stare at the feather. Then you stare at him. Then back at the feather.

“Um. Thanks?” You take it from him reluctantly, unsure of what to do with it. Is this some sort of owl-hybrid thing? You’ve worked with hybrids before, but you’ve never had one just…hand you part of themselves. Is it a good luck charm? Is he shedding?

Jungkook’s still staring at you, so you awkwardly place the feather down on your desk and give him a tight-lipped smile. “That’s really…sweet of you, Jungkook.”

His eyes light up at that, and he nods, clearly satisfied. “You’re welcome.”

Then, just as quietly as he arrived, he retreats back to his desk, leaving you sitting there with a feather and absolutely no idea what the hell just happened.

The next day, you’re convinced it’s all some bizarre dream. Maybe you’ve been working too hard. Maybe the stress has finally fried your brain. But nope. The feather is still there, sitting on your desk like some sort of cryptic clue at a mystery dinner. 

You google “owl hybrid feather gift meaning” during your lunch break, and the results are…mixed. Half of the articles seem to think it’s some sort of honour, like receiving a medal. The other half? Well, they’re leaning heavily towards “romantic gesture,” which is ridiculous.

Jungkook? Interested in you? There’s no way.

You glance over at him, and he’s already looking at you. Like. Always. His eyes flicker down to your desk where the feather sits, and he smiles, looking ridiculously pleased.

Okay, maybe there’s some way.

Days pass, and you can’t stop thinking about the feather. It’s just so…weird. You’ve even caught Yoongi, another associate, eyeing it with suspicion when he drops by your desk to discuss cases.

“You’ve got something on your desk,” Yoongi comments casually, nodding towards the feather.

“Yeah,” you mutter, trying to sound nonchalant. “Jungkook gave it to me.”

Yoongi raises an eyebrow. “Gave you a feather? From his wing?”

“I guess so?”

Yoongi’s face splits into a grin. “Oh, wow.”

“What? What does it mean?” You’re desperate for answers, but Yoongi just smirks and gives you a pat on the shoulder.

“Good luck with that, girl.”

You swear under your breath as he walks away, cackling like he’s just heard the funniest joke in the world. Now you’re even more confused.

A week later, you still haven’t figured out how to confront Jungkook about the whole feather situation. It’s not exactly something you can casually bring up. Like, Hey, thanks for the feather. Does that mean you fancy me? Yeah, that’s definitely not happening.

Instead, you decide to ignore it. If you pretend the feather doesn’t exist, maybe the whole thing will just blow over. Except Jungkook has other plans.

He’s started lingering around your desk even more now, often bringing you little things—snacks, coffee, once even a stapler when yours mysteriously disappeared, though you still suspect he stole it just to have an excuse to bring you a new one. Every time he does, he gives you that same intense look, like he’s waiting for something.

It’s driving you mad.

One particularly busy afternoon, after a long meeting with a difficult client, you return to your desk to find another feather. This one’s smaller, but it’s clearly from Jungkook. He’s left it next to your keyboard, along with a yet another sticky note.

‘In case you need some good luck today. – JK’

You groan, slumping into your chair. This is getting out of hand. You need to talk to him, figure out what’s going on. You can’t keep collecting feathers like some weird bird-obsessed hoarder.

So, after work, you march over to Jungkook’s desk with a determined look on your face. He looks up, surprised to see you standing there with both feathers in hand.

“Jungkook, we need to talk,” you say, trying to sound as professional as possible, which is difficult when you’re waving feathers around.

“Okay,” he blinks up at you with those big, round eyes of his. “What’s up?”

You bite your lip, suddenly unsure how to phrase this without sounding like a complete idiot. “Look, I appreciate the feathers. Really. But…what exactly do they mean?”

Jungkook stares at you for a moment, then his eyes widen in realisation. “Wait…you don’t know?”

You shake your head, feeling more than a little awkward. “No? I mean, I thought maybe it was like…a hybrid thing? But I’m not really sure what to do with them.”

For a second, Jungkook looks genuinely shocked, like he can’t believe you’ve gone this long without figuring it out. Then he bursts into laughter, doubling over in his chair.

You stand there, feathers in hand, as Jungkook wipes away tears of laughter. “Oh my God, you really didn’t know,” he gasps between giggles.

“No!” you exclaim, feeling both relieved and embarrassed. “Care to explain it to me?”

Jungkook takes a deep breath, composing himself before he finally says, “I was…courting you.”

You freeze. “Courting?”

“Yeah,” he waves around, looking a little sheepish now. “In owl hybrid culture, we give feathers to the person we like. It’s…it’s kind of like a proposal, but, y’know, not that serious right away. Just a ‘hey, I fancy you, wanna go out?’ kind of thing.”

Your brain short-circuits for a moment. Jungkook’s been…courting you? For how long? 

“Oh,” you stand there dumbly.

Jungkook rubs his knuckles, clearly nervous now. “I thought you knew. I mean, I probably should’ve explained it better, but…yeah.”

You stare at the feathers in your hands, realisation slowly sinking in. Jungkook, the quiet, intense, ridiculously good-looking owl hybrid you’ve been working with for months, has been trying to ask you out this whole time. With feathers.

“Well, shit,” you mutter, a grin tugging at the corners of your lips.

“Yeah,” Jungkook agrees, scratching his cheek. “Sorry if it was a bit weird.”

“No, no,” you interject quickly, still trying to process everything. “It’s not weird. Just…unexpected.”

There’s a brief pause before Jungkook looks up at you, his expression softer now. “So…does that mean you’d be interested? In going out, I mean?”

You smile, a warm fluttering feeling spreading in your chest. “Yeah. I think I would.”

Jungkook’s face lights up in the most adorably dorky way possible, and you can’t help but laugh.

“Cool! I’ll, uh, pick you up tomorrow after work?”

“Sounds good,” you reply, still holding the feathers like some sort of love token.

As you walk back to your desk, you glance down at them again, not able to suppress the smile tugging at your lips. Maybe this hybrid courtship thing isn’t so bad after all.

[slutforfictionalwomen]

Just relax

Kinktober day 28

Natasha Romanoff x Fem Reader

Main kinks: mommy kink

Word count: 1,2K

Summary: You're in a bad mood, and your mommy is just trying to cheer you up.

Warnings: Smut, mommy kink, praise kink, fluff, soft sex, cunnilingus, fingering, begging.

(Please tell me if I forgot anything)

"What's really going on, baby?" It's late in the evening, and you've just come down to get a snack. Ever since you got home in the afternoon, Natasha has noticed your annoyed attitude.

You rummage through the cupboard, clearly still irritated for whatever reason. Natasha notices you making a mess of her cupboard and decides to help you find what you need.

You're a young college student with strict Christian parents. When the 39 year old Natasha met you, you still lived with your parents because you couldn't afford an apartment. She took you in, and quickly, things started to bloom between the two of you.

"Sweetie, please tell me what happened. I'll get you the snacks you're craving, but please just tell me what's going on." Natasha's hand in on the small of your back, rubbing the circles with her thumb she knows you go crazy for.

Finally, you turn to face her. But as soon as your eyes meet hers, tears start running down your face. Natasha immediately pulls you into a hug, whispering sweet words in your ear.

"All my classmates are having a Halloween party at campus, including my friends. I'm not invited, I'm the only one in our form who isn't," you sob into Natasha's shoulder. The older woman is shocked by what you tell her, how could everyone be invited except for her sweet girl?

"Honey, are you sure they didn't just forget they hadn't invited you yet?" Natasha keeps rubbing circles on your back, not pulling away from the hug. You immediately speak in sobs again, "No, I asked at what time and where it exactly was., but they said it was a stupid question because I wasn't invited anyway." Saying that last sentence out loud breaks you again.

"Oh baby," Natasha pulls away from the hug to wipe away your tears. Your poor little face has makeup smudged all over it, your eyeliner long gone. "You know what? I'll give you an extra nice day, we can have fun without those stupid college people. But first we need to clean your face, pretty girl."

Natasha has gently washed your face with a cloth and warm water. She also helped you change into some more comfortable clothes.

Now she wants you to decide whatever you want to do. She has named multiple examples, like watching a movie, shopping, or swimming.

However, you found out about a place to cuddle with goats near your house, and that is what you want to do.

It's only a ten minute walk away from Natasha's house. "This is a rather funny activity, but I could've expected it from an animal lover like you." Natasha presses a soft kiss to your hand, a gesture that still makes you blush.

There's only a few other people, people with little kids. It reminds you of how you used to spend time at a similar place at home when you were little. You pull Natasha just a bit closer.

You end up having a lot of fun. Natasha acts like a typical mum, petting the animals but keeping a bit of a distance and taking pictures of you. She loves seeing you happy like this, having fun out of just playing with goats.

The two of you decide to go by Starbucks on the way home, getting coffee and a sweet treat. You attempt to pay for yourself but fail as Natasha refuses to let you. "It's your day, sweetheart."

Natasha picks out a table with a booth for you. You start sipping on your drink and eating your muffin when Natasha moves her hand to your upper thigh, softly caressing it. When you try to move her hand away she gives you a warning look, so you just have to put up with the feelings it evokes.

Apparently, that was the idea because Natasha leans down to whisper in your ear. "When we get home, I'll make you feel so good, baby. Better than any Halloween party could ever make you feel. No one could ever make you feel better than I do."

The walk home is uncomfortable with the slick between your legs. As soon as you get home and sit down on the couch, Natasha is all over you. Normally, her kisses are rough, but now she's being soft. Her hands caress your body, whereas they normally grope you in an almost bruising way. She's being the most gentle with you she has ever been.

"Baby, I don't want to do this on the couch today." She takes you upstairs to her room to continue there. Asking you if she can take your shirt off before doing so, she same with the rest of your clothes.

When you're fully naked, she first spends time thoroughly exploring your body with her mouth. "Beg for it, baby," she says when your hands grab her hair.

You think for a moment about whether you want to do as she said or you want to be a brat. Giving in seems the better option right now. "Please mommy, please fuck me. I'm so needy, please!"

Natasha chuckles at your words, how you have learned how to beg properly in the time you've been with her. She kisses down your body, pressing a kiss to the mound of your pussy before speaking, "Such a good girl for mommy."

You whine at the praise, but it turns into a moan as the older woman dives in to lick your pussy. Her tongue disappears to pay attention to your bundle of nerves, making you hold onto her hair tighter.

"You like that, pretty girl? Like it when I praise you and rub your little pussy?" She says before diving back in to suck your clit. She's high on the moans that escape your mouth. You know you can be loud, but you still hold back. Natasha knows that about you and often sees it as a challenge.

She pushes one of her short nailed fingers into your aching hole while keeping up the licks on your sweet spot. The way she curls her finger pulls another loud moan out of you.

The older woman starts thrusting into you, sucking and licking your clit, trying to pull as many sweet moans from you as possible on the way to your orgasm.

She's relentless when it comes to this, whispering sweet words when she can, but mostly keeping her mouth on you. When she feels you getting closer, she adds a finger to your pussy. You immediately clench around it.

"Please mommy I'm gonna cum," you say when Natasha starts to constantly hit your spot with her fingers, while lapping your bundle of nerves with her tongue.

The older woman pulls her mouth away for a second, keeping up the motion with her fingers to not lose your orgasm. "Cum whenever, sweetheart."

It takes seconds for you to reach the edge, fully clenching around her while bucking up and riding out your orgasm. Natasha chuckles at the sweet sounds you make. She pulls her fingers out and cleans up your pussy with her tongue before making you clean her fingers.

"Come on, baby, it's time to take a shower." She takes her clothes off, then she lifts your already naked body up to walk to the bathroom.

[pamgkrthwrites]

2500 please?

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Fandom: BNHA

Pairing: Dad!Bakugou x F!Reader

Themes: Bakugou is not the perfect dad but is trying his best, based off of a TikTok Sound

Summary: You get a call from your nearly 16-year-old daughter at 2 a.m. asking for $2500.

Word Count: 1K

Tag List: @optimisticprime3 @dreamcastgirl99 (Sorry if I've forgotten or gotten someone's tag wrong)

A/N: I should've been working on an assignment instead of this....

“Hey mama, do you have $2500 you can send me?” You heard your 15-year-old daughter’s voice through the phone.

You leaned up in your and Katsuki’s bed, looking at the time. “Katsumi, it’s 2 am. What do you possibly need $2500 for?” Your head hot the pillow before you suddenly sat u straight. “Katsumi, where are you?”

“Um-” You heard your daughter’s voice go weak though you could still hear her smile over the phone. “An escape room?”

“The truth, Katsumi.” You warned, sitting up in your bed.

“... Prison?”

You sat up straight, your eyes open wide. “PRISON?!”

Your husband Katsuki sturred awake, mumbling some curses.

“You can’t tell daddy!” Katsumi’s voice strained. “My friends and I were just goofing around-”

“Can’t tell me what?” You heard Katsuki's grumbly voice say before you turned your head, seeing your very tired 42-year-old husband. He grabbed your phone as he sat up, pulling it to his ear. “What did you do and where are you?”

You heard your daughter's voice become quieter and you could imagine her doing the thing she’s done since she was 3 and got in trouble with your husband. Lower lip pouting, looking down with hands behind her back and kicking rockings with her feet.

“... My friends and I snuck out and we went to a party and the cops were called and apparently there were drugs-”

“Drugs?!” Katsuki’s voice boomed. “You’re doing drugs?!”

“Nononono!” Katsumi panickingly rushed out. “There happened to be drugs there! That’s why we got arrested-”

“ARRESTED?!” Katsuki was going to pop a blood vessel with how angry he was.

You heard your youngest daughter Fuku crying now from her room. You gave your husband a look, but all you saw was anger behind his eyes. He took a deep as he clutched onto your phone tightly. 

“Where are you being held?” He asked through gritted teeth as he signalled to you to check on your 7-year-old daughter.

You groaned as you got out of bed to go check on your youngest.

Katsuki waited until you left the room before glaring at the phone as if Katsumi could see his glare. “You’ll be grounded for 2 months, your birthday party is cancelled and you’ll write your mother an apology letter.”

“What?! But that's so unfair!-”

“Do you want me to come pick you up or do you just want to walk straight home?” You snapped at his daughter.

“... Fine…”

The drive from the police station was long and awkward. Katsumi wondered if her father was driving the long way home just so the guilt would eat her alive. She looked up at Katsuki with her eyes, the same eyes that you had.

He was silently fuming.

She looked out of the sports car passenger window, looking at her reflection in the side mirror. Her eyeliner was smudged and her father’s wheat-blonde hair looked messy with your hair texture on her head.

“Where’s mama?” She asked.

“At home. Someone had to watch your sisters.” He answered coldly. 

When he noticed he was getting close to the street they lived on, he parked on the side of the road close to the park he used to take Katsumi to.

She stared at the park, remembering when she first got her quirk at the said park when she was 4. How you held her so closely with a smile and spun her around while Katsuki just watched, realising Katsumi had his same quirk.

“Why did you go?” He asked her, trying to keep a level head.

“I just wanted to do something fun with my friends.”

“You’re 16 in 4 days!” He pointed out to her. “You shouldn’t have snuck out! What if something worse happened than just drugs happening?”

“Why would you care-”

“Because you are my daughter, Katsumi!” Katsuki tried to hold back a tempered response. You told him to be gentle. He was never really good at it. He tapped his finger on the steering wheel. “Is this about that boy at school?”

The lack of a response from Katsumi confirmed it Katsuki. He took a breath in trying to not get angry.

“I know you don’t like him-”

“Understatement of the year, Sumi.” Katsuki butted in.

“-but I really like him!” Katsumi had small tears in her eyes and her fists clenched.

Katsuki was silent, tapping his finger on the wheel. 

“... Don’t change yourself for some boy, Katsumi.” Katsuki said to her. “If you’re going to date, don’t make it a life lesson for yourself.”

Katsumi turned her head away from her father, crossing her arms. “Whatever.”

Katsumi barged through the front door, avoiding making eye contact with you as she made her way to her bedroom, passing her sisters’ rooms along the way. She slammed the door shut and locked the door, leaving you and Katsuki alone with high tension lingering in the house.

“What did you say to her?” You asked him with a raised brow.

“I told her not to change for that stupid boyfriend.” You angrily answered as he made his way back to your two’s bedroom.

Once you closed the door did he take off his shoes and shirt before getting back into bed. You sat beside him and gently rubbed his old man's back.

“Was he at that party?” You asked Katsuki gently.

“I don’t fucking know-! Probably!” He groaned, burrowing his face into a pillow.

“... Maybe we need to have the talk with her-” You stopped yourself when you saw the nasty look Katsuki was giving you. “Don’t act like that, Katsu. I started having sex when I was around her age.”

“With who?” He glared, his possessiveness over you still strong as ever, even after 18 years of marriage.

You just rubbed his back. “Not important. You have to accept that she’s going to start dating, there isn’t much you can do about that.”

Katsuki sighed, getting comfortable in bed. “Let’s just go to sleep. It’s 3am.”

You leaned down and kissed Katsuki’s forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

[angelofsmalldeaath]

untitled — a.h.b.

cw: mentions of being drunk, alcohol, suggestive content

“you have a good evening?” he fails to stifle a grin and holds her close as she tries to straddle him. it’s awkward—her heels digging into his knee, her dress riding up her thigh. hair stuck to her lip gloss.

“it was fantastic!” she declares, nodding with such excitement that it sets her earrings swinging wildly. “you should have been there, it would have been funner–fuck, more fun. i dunno, is funner a word?”

his grin turns wider, she puts her head on his shoulder and lets him cradle her close. “it is if you want it to be. and who’d take care of you if i got drunk with you, hmm?”

“oh, i’m fine!” airily, she waves her hand away. he narrowly avoids the smack. “just…” she lowers her voice, a hushed whisper, a secret about to be divulged, “how do i take off my heels? the buckles are veryyyyyyy complicated. it’s stupid.”

he can’t control the snort that leaves him then. she looks so adorable—trying so hard to keep her eyes open while so obviously being sleepy. trying so hard to convince him she’s not drunk, when she is, indeed, bladdered. 

when he gets on his knees by her feet, she attempts a protest.

“wh—”

“let’s get your heels off you, okay?” 

“mmm, and after that?” he feels her hands through his hair, nails against his scalp and the nape of his neck in what is meant to be boldly flirtatious. “what comes off after that.”

if she weren’t so drunk, it would have worked on him. 

his hair fall in his eyes when he looks up at her. he can almost predict what he’s going to see—half-lidded sleepy eyes and messy hair and glitter all over her face. 

“your make-up,” he deadpans, rubs his thumb over her knee. “then your clothes, and then the blankets. so i can put you to bed.”

she pouts, sticks her tongue out at him and blows a raspberry. “old man! look at you, you’re ready for bed at…uh…”

“midnight? yeah, real old man of me,” he grins. 

he lets her try again, trace a finger through his hair and down to his temple and then his jaw. when he closes his eyes and smiles, she traces that too—her thumb over his lips, making his smile grow wider.

“pretty as you are,” he places a small kiss on the palm of her hand, “i need to take you to bed.” and before she can make another little comment, he quickly interrupts, “so you can sleep, you pervert.”

“boooo, boringgggg!” she stands up all of a sudden, his heart picks up when she stumbles, trips over her discarded heels and lands, once again, right into his arms. something about the whole thing is apparently hilarious, it sets her giggling once more. 

“d’you wanna know a secret?” she whispers once she's managed to stop laughing, “c’mere, c’mere!”

just to entertain her, he sits on the settee, then carefully sits her down on his lap. “go on then.”

“no, clooooser,” she pokes him in the chest. it barely has any effect, “it’s very very secret!”

he grabs her finger, the one that’s just poked him, and brings it to his mouth to kiss the knuckle. then he leans closer until their noses are almost touching.

“go on, tell me your secret.”

“so, it’s…it’s…” he sees her eyes go from sleepy to twinkly in a matter of seconds, and then she leans, pressing a kiss square on his lips, giggling away at his surprised face. “gotcha!”

his jaw drops, cheeks flaming from being caught so off guard. it’s not often he gets shy around her—not anymore—but something about the way she looks at him, like he hung the moon just for her, leaves him speechless.

he holds her by the waist so she won’t squirm away from him, still laughing—her lipstick is fully gone now, only smudges of it remain on the corners of her lips, her eyeliner is half smudged and the glitter on her eyelids is all around her eyes. and she is, without a doubt, the prettiest girl he’s seen in his entire life. 

“you’re staring,” she whispers, biting her lip shyly and he can’t resist kissing her again—a small kiss, a real kiss. 

“you’re gorgeous.” 

“are we going to bed then?” she throws him a clumsy wink.

“we are…” he nods, “so you can go to bed—”

“booooo, boring old man!” she pokes him in the chest again, right over his heart. the adorable crease between her brows is back, the one she thinks makes her look serious and angry.

once again he grabs the finger, kisses the knuckle. “you’ll love me in the morning, trust me.”

“i’ll love you always,” she says as a matter of fact, nodding sagely. 

if he could melt right there, he would. instead, he hugs her tight and holds her close, her head on his chest. then he kisses her head, lingering for as long as he can, and carries her to bed.

[admirationandromantics]

Gettogether

Chris Hartley x reader!

An idea that came to mind. The day before the disappearance of Hannah and Beth. You and Chris have a thing for one another, and it escalates. The original idea was putting eyeliner on him, and I had so much fun writing it!!

PS! Involves drinking and sexual themes (18++)

Word count: 1,7 k (Unedited!)

Everyone is laughing while sitting in the uneven circle. Emily and Jess went to the kitchen a while ago and are still gone. Jess was the first to stand up, a mischievous look plastered on her face. Her excuse was mixing a new drink, and she forcibly dragged Emily with her while laughing. I don’t know what they’re planning, but it must be good since I occasionally hear loud snickers coming from them. 

While the others talk I glance over at Chris. He’s sitting at the other side. Not on the sofa, but below it, using it only as back support. In his hand is his fifth beer. At least not less than that. He’s wearing a dark green sweater, which suits him perfectly, curving at the best angles. Suddenly he brings his eyes up, meeting mine. A bit of blush covers him, but I’m probably just seeing things. Shit. I look away quickly, not feeling the heat on my cheeks. I do know it's there though. Luckily, the dim light and alcohol makes it almost impossible to see, I hope. In the corner of my eyes I see Josh whisper something to him, and they both look at me. I need some air, or at least a reason to get out a little. The storm outside is not slowing down, and is said to be even stronger tomorrow, so I wouldn’t dare to actually go outside. For now, I’m keeping calm. I should just try to join the conversation. 

Mike is talking about his latest occurrence at the gym. He was apparently hit on by a girl, and it was quite an ordeal. While he’s talking I notice long stares shifting between Sam and Josh. I automatically smile and signal to Ashley and Beth to look. They notice and then both look at each other. We have to do something. Before I get an idea, Hannah turns beside me, looking strongly at my face. I stiffen, and give her a look. 

“Everything okay Hannah?”

She loosens up, laughs a little. 

“Yeah yeah, sorry”.

She shifts before moving her hand up to her own face. 

“Your mascara is a bit smudged, want me to fix it for you?” 

Oh. I haven’t touched up my makeup since I put it on in the morning. I thank her, but tell her how it probably all needs to be fixed, so I would do it quickly in the bathroom. 

“Let me know if you need anything”.

“Thanks Han!” I shout while walking up the stairs. 

I hear whispers behind me, but can’t make out what they’re saying. Instead of trying, I quickly get my make-up bag from my room and go to the bathroom. My mascara is not a bit smudged. It’s very smudged. How didn’t I notice before? I clean it up before deciding to redo both my eyeliner and mascara. The highlighter is still going strong and I have a hint of the eyeshadow present. I will only take three minutes max. 

Right before completion, Chris burst into the room. I give a screech before covering my mouth. 

“Gosh I’m incredibly sorry” he says with hands covering his eyes. My heart rate slows and I give a giggle before walking over to him and pulling his hands down. 

“I was just wondering if you wanted some company?” 

“No other reason for coming here?” I ask while walking back to the mirror. 

“Well, I don’t know, maybe” he mumbles. I can’t make out the rest as he sits down on the chair beside me. I complete the last part of my makeup before looking down at him. 

“You’re really good at that” he says while pointing up at the mascara wand. 

“Do you know what this is?”

A long silence falls, and before I can tease him, he says it’s for the eyes. I smile at him while he’s sitting there, very proud. 

“Do you want some?” I ask, taking out my eyeliner pencil from the bag. 

“Me? Absolutely not, I’m not putting that junk on my face”

My eyes narrow a bit, and he quickly follows up. 

“But you look great though, beautiful, hot, sexy everything you know, just…” 

As I get closer, he gets up from the stool and backs away. 

“Hey hey, I told you I didn’t want any of that”

I get in front of the door, locking it. 

“You didn’t just do that”

“I believe I did”

“You’re gonna pay if you put that thing on me”

“Oh please” I plead. “Just a little on the undereye, you would look dazzling”. 

“Nope, not a chance”. I think about the rest of the night, trying to remember something that I can use. I know. 

“Think of it as a form of payback for scaring the shit out of me when you walked in.”

He smirks. “Payback?” 

“And you thought I was naked for a second as well” I hurriedly add. 

“Damn you, fine. But only this time”. 

Chris is a funny and smart man, but thank goodness he also has integrity. I take his arm and lead him down to the floor. I have to release him as soon as he gets where he’s meant to be. I can’t help thinking about what’s under his clothing. He’s strong, I know he is. 

With his back against the bathtub, I carefully sit down on his lap. His breath stops for a moment, and I quickly lift myself up from him again. My own breath holds, and I look away. Boundaries, I seem to forget sometimes that we’re just friends. 

“Sorry, it’s just easier this way, we can do it some other way if you want.” As I turn around I feel his hand grabbing mine, dragging me down on him again. Both his hands are placed on either side of my hips. 

“No it’s fine, really. I was just surprised.” His grip is firm, and I can feel my face heat up once again. He takes my expression as a sign to drag me closer to him. Chest to chest. My breath is uneven, and I notice a faint blush on his cheeks. 

“So, are we gonna do it?” he asks. I’m stumped. 

“Wait what?”

“With that scary sharp thing you’re going to put in my eye”. His comment takes me out of my trance, and I give a genuine smile. 

“It’s not going inside your eye, just under it” I laugh, and he looks down. He shares my laugh before quickly taking hold of my waist, getting my face closer to his. His breath is on my chin. I’ve never felt as hot as I do now, like I’m steaming. He looks down at my lips before returning to my eyes. Then, in a swift motion, I meet his lips. My arms automatically go over his shoulders and in his hair, whilst his take all over my back, pressing me even closer if that’s possible. The kiss is warm and wet, and it doesn’t stop. I barely get any small breaks for breathing, making my head go a bit dizzy. I feel euphoric, and I can’t believe it’s actually happening. In the small breaks, he manages to make out a few words. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this”. I mumble a little ‘me too’ back, as I feel his fingers on my skin, under my shirt. 

“Fuck” I mumble, getting even hotter. How am I suppose to take this? And on the bathroom floor? 

“Chris?”

“Mhmm?”

“Where is all this confidence coming from?”

“Pent up energy”

He starts kissing my neck, moving down to my collarbone. 

“And some drinks of bravery”

“Got it”

He finds my spot, making me moan out his name. As we’re going on, I suddenly hear faint voices. 

“I told you it would work”

“I’m the perfect matchmaker”

I pull away. Chris looks confused, breathless, and needy, looking up at me with pleading eyes. 

“Wha-” I stop him with my hand. I know who it is. Tucking down my shirt, I quickly open the door and catch Josh and Hannah with their ears against the wall. I cough. Loudly. They both turn at the same time with completely different reactions. Hannah slowly backs away before running down the stairs, while Josh faces me with a smirk. 

“I told you he liked you, but you didn’t believe me,” he says. I give him a confused glare in return. 

“You know, I’m the reason this happened, I’m the perfect matchmaker.” he looks through the door, winking at Chris, who rolls his eyes. 

“I just had to make sure something happened, and knowing how skittish you are made it a perfect bonding moment”

“Josh, what the h-”

He interrupts, “But at the same time, if something were to happen, it can’t happen in there. We got people who want to use the bathroom tonight”. 

I can’t do anything but nod. The mood is ruined anyway. Chris appears behind me, one hand used for leaning against the door. 

“Dude, we had like, a moment”

“Yeah bro, and I’m sorry about that, but just do it somewhere else” he winks before walking away, joining the others. I then feel a hand going up my side, turning me around. I look up at him, and his perfect sweet face. 

“We should probably talk about this before we do anything.” he whispers. I nod in agreement. 

“Though, we’ve both been drinking, so this isn’t the time” I add. He smiles down at me, taking my face in his palms before lifting my chin. 

“What about tomorrow?”

“That sounds good” I turn around to join the others while taking his hand with me. I’m stopped by him and dragged into his embrace. 

“But, we could also just go to my room” he whispers against my ear. I think about it. I truly want to, but Josh kind of ruined it. 

“Isn’t the mood kinda low right now?” 

“Let me show you how good I am at picking up the mood then” he says, tracing a finger down my neck. Fuck he’s good. I grab ahold of his hand, dragging him with me. 

“Wait wait, that’s all it took?” he asks, clearly confused. 

“Yep” I reply. “Especially when you look like that and talk in such a manner”

“I had a whole thing planned, like, you know, stuff and things like that”. 

“Use them next time” 

“Will that be later tonight?”

“Of course”. As we’ve agreed he locks the door and turns around. Before I know it, I’m slammed against the bed, him immediately going on top and kissing me.

“I could do this all night” I say between kisses. 

“Good, cause we’re gonna”

[r3starttt]

Can you do something about drummer Abby and makeup artist reader?

Thank you, I love the ellie in an interview ❤️

MAKE IT UP TO ME

Drummer! Abby x makeup artist! reader

You’ve always loved makeup, a lot. Your biggest dream was to become a professional makeup artist, and you were determined to. So when you finally got a job you felt like your life was solved.

But it wasn’t, apparently if you don’t work on your own there’s always gonna be people that cause trouble in your life. You got fired because some jealous coworker which you didn’t even get to know the name, said some shit about you.

And you thought it was all over because apparently no one hires people if they don’t have enough experience. And you stood jobless for a while, until your best friend, Nora, helped you get a job.

And now you’re here, on your fifth concert, doing makeup to an apparently very famous band that pays you more than enough. Most of them would ask you for very extravagant makeups, especially the main singer of the band, so you had to take a while with each member due to the details.

So when it was time to get to the drummer you mostly ended alone with her, which you didn’t mind at all because she’s hot and really nice to talk to. Also it’s been pretty helpful because you’ve get to be closer with the band as well that way.

“Gosh people’s so loud today” you could hear the fans screaming outside. The place they were doing today’s concert was pretty small, like a local theater kinda “yeah… we’ve been getting a lot of support lately, hopefully soon we’ll get to perform on bigger stages” Abby’s eyes were closed as she spoke. You were doing a type of messy look, smudged eyeliner, some dark eyeshadow and a bit or mascara.

“You’re planing on performing maybe in other states?” you grabbed the eyeliner and started to apply it on her eyes, smudging it with your finger “we’d like to, but it doesn’t really depends on us. But if we do you’re definitely coming with us” you couldn’t help but smile, she’s just being nice but when you’re almost on top of her, while she has her eyes closed and her voice sounds so pretty to you, what else is there to think?

“I’d love to, thanks” you can see her smile widening a bit “you’re ready abs, tell me if there’s anything else you want to add” you step aside, allowing the blonde to look at the mirror in front of her and check on her makeup “all good” she says, standing up from the chair. And you can’t help but stare at her tall and strong figure which totally hides whenever she sits for you to do her makeup.

She’s wearing a black tank top and some gray military pants with a pair of black boots, and the contrast it does with her skin and hair as well as the makeup is killing you because how does she look hotter than any other day? However your thoughts get interrupted by her voice.

“You’re free tomorrow? I’d like to take you somewhere” she says it so casual, as she puts on a baggy jacket, and you can only stare at her in shock “I’d take you out tonight but we got plans already and I’d like to do something better than just getting drunk and talk about the show with you” she finally turned around and it would be a total lie to say you don’t look nervous because you can see her laughing a bit as she stares at you.

“Yeah, just…. send me a message tomorrow morning” you said trying your best to sound as confident as her. she just nodded and walked out of the room. later that night when you were with the band as usual, celebrating another show, you two could only stare at each other. She always sat besides you, but that night she was touchier than usual and fuck you needed to see her again, alone.

Just as you woke up you checked on your phone and gladly, a message from Abby was the first thing you saw. She just remind you to not go out since you had plans with her. You two kept talking most of the morning, planing where to go and what to do. Finally you two decided to go to some quite fancy restaurant to have dinner.

And the day felt eternal, even though you had to work that day you could only overthink about the whole situation and the date you had later with Abby. And it was the same for her because as confident as she looks and acts in front of you she was almost dying yesterday when she first asked you to go out and you wouldn’t answer, she was also overthinking, a lot, an repeating the scene in her head over and over.

Abby had offered to pick you up and drive you home as well because “it’s dangerous for you to be alone” so when night came and your phone vibrated you got shivers all over your body.

The date was way better than you expected, you feared it might be awkward but it was the total opposite. Maybe it helped the past weeks of pure tension between both or the fact that most of the time you were flirting with each other, but whatever it was it doesn’t really matter as long as you get any chance with her.

Once she drive you home she ask you to stay just a bit more, so now you’re both outside your apartment’s building, just sitting in the car, staring at each other in silence.

“Can I kiss you?” you see her eyes wandering over you as her hands cup your face, and suddenly you’re pressing your lips over hers for some seconds that feel eternal, until she pulls away.

“you’re so fucking pretty you know that?” her hands are still on your face yet she moves them rapidly and turns her face to her window, to which you laugh “what’re you doing?”the light from the outside reflects on her as she turns her face back to you “doing what?” her eyes move to your lips once again “look away” you reply.

“Because” a nasal chuckle comes out of her and her smile wides a bit. her arm moves again to your face and as her fingers touch your lips you open your mouth slightly “I gotta go abs” as you speak her thumb goes slightly into your inner lips “why?” you notice how she furrows her eyebrows slightly and her eyes finally meet yours.

“It’s too late already and I have to work tomorrow, all day” a small chuckle comes out of your mouth “Come here then” she moves her arms to the back of your neck and pulls you again for another kiss.

“Thanks for today, I swear I’ll make it up to you” you grab your bag and open the door, looking at her one last time “you better do”.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

i watched spto and i'm down bad for matthew patel now so uh- can i request platonic matthew patel x reader where reader works at gman media and they become friends with him after he realizes just how out of his depth running the place and just like breaks down to the nearest person that he has no idea what he's doing?

Oufh I gotta admit the same thing-

......

Being a custodian at G-Man Media certainly wasn't the job you hoped for, but at least it was a job that paid well...better than anything McDonalds could have provided.

And of course, that's only because it used to be run by gazillionaire Gideon Graves.

Yes. Used to.

There was a huge change in management that literally happened overnight--as your boss was defeated in battle by Matthew Patel, and he became the CEO of pretty much everything the former had.

The two record labels, fourteen animal shelters, movie studio, etc. etc. were now all his for the taking.

Never in a million years would you imagine that this theater-obsessed punk who was Ramona's first evil ex-boyfriend would be able to overthrow the G-Man himself.....and yet he won.

Of course, the aforementioned battle they had resulted in some serious damages and a lot of repairs having to be done in several rooms and floors. But if anything you were just relieved Matthew chose to disband the League of Evil Exes. You didn't have to clean up all their messes or fix anything Luke, Todd, or the twins' robot might have broken.

Even better was that Gideon wasn't around to nitpick at every little thing anymore.

That was a huge upside for you.

On the downside, however...your new boss was somehow both better and worse than him.

Matthew was thrown into such a tough role so quickly, and while he seemingly had everything under control with his demon hipster chicks becoming his agents.....sometimes he just looked lost.

Sure, he seemed to like shouting out orders and getting escorts in fancy helicopters, but when it came down to actual business stuff, he kept asking his employees about different things--even painfully obvious things.

You've never talked to him much even before this, although you usually keep to yourself and don't really speak unless spoken to. But you can tell he's struggling to maintain his image.

Still, you don't wanna say anything that might anger him or get you fired.

And besides, he had mystical powers that were ten times cooler than anything Gideon ever had, so pissing him off would be most unwise.

.......

It's late in the evening when you're heading to your final stop before getting to go home: Matthew's office.

He didn't say anything in particular had to be repaired, although you figured there was no harm in double-checking things. For all you know, the TV's wiring might need to be fixed or a screw in the table might've come loose.

Hopefully he didn't mind. You're usually in and out of there by the time he returns from whatever business trip he attended.

Yet upon entering his office, you stood in your tracks upon seeing that he was there, sitting all alone....apparently brooding and monologuing to himself. You were used to seeing him doing that sort of thing.

But this time something seemed...off.

Even his demon agents were concerned and looked grateful you showed up, immediately stepping aside so you could walk in further, hearing his mumbling become more coherent.

"What am I doing with my life? This isn't what I went to college for..."

"Mr. Patel, sir?" You called out cautiously. "Is everything okay?"

"....no, actually. Everything is NOT okay!" Slamming his hands onto the table, he stared up at you from across the table, taking a moment to identify you. You could see how exhausted and bloodshot his eyes were, along with his eyeliner looking more smudged. "You're the custodian, right...[y/n], was it?"

You blinked, surprised he remembered your name. "Correct. I was just-"

"Look, [y/n]..I've been feeling really awful lately and I just need to....get some stuff off my chest. And since you're the only one here right now, you get to listen to me." He then pointed to a chair near him. "Sit, and don't you dare tell anyone what we've discussed, capiche?"

Even though the clock was ticking close to the time you went home, concern over your boss' mental stability took priority over everything else at that moment. So you listened to his demand and took a seat, remaining silent and patient.

As Matthew slumped back into his chair, his whole expression shifted into one of sadness, as though he just lost his best friend. "I'm....not cut out for this job..." He confessed. "This isn't what I envisioned myself doing."

"I imagine it's been difficult. But for the record, you've only been doing this for-"

"I've already lost this company billions of dollars."

You blinked. "Billions, sir?"

"Yes, billions! You know, I-I only defeated Gideon Graves in battle because he would have taken my life if he won. And for a while it felt good to have all of his fame and fortune.......but now it....i-it just sucks! The paperwork never stops, I can barely catch a break, I don't know any of the computer passwords, and I don't even like wearing this stupid suit!!" Laying his head on the table, he banged his fist against it, choking back tears. "I'm a theater major..not a business major, damn it!"

'Poor Matthew..' You frowned slightly. "If all of this is so overwhelming, maybe you could-"

"No." He quickly sat up, his face darkening with a deep scowl. "I am NOT giving anything back to that lying scumbag! Besides, we have a legally binding contract that states all his properties are mine! That means permanently! Forever!"

"My apologies, sir..i-it was only a suggestion." You put your hands up, feeling tense especially as his demons were now frowning at you. "I know you've been under a lot of pressure lately...and there's no shame in admitting that."

Matthew blinked. "You've noticed?"

"I have." You nodded. "I mean..a lot of people go to college for one thing and suddenly wind up in an entirely different field. I know my opinion may not matter much, but...I think you're doing a great job despite your lack of experience."

He shrunk back, no longer looking angry but rather...guilty?

"Thank you.." He sighed. "I'm sorry for never saying this, but you've been a huge help cleaning up after all our messes when we had the League of Evil Exes. So..you better give yourself a little credit, too."

Now it was your turn to be flattered, as you smiled and chuckled. "Thank you, Mr. Patel. I appreciate that."

"Uh-huh..and there's something else, too.."

"And what would that be?"

"....I only refuse to throw in the towel because this company can give me the funds necessary to make the Scott Pilgrim musical a reality." He confessed.

"Oh?" You raised an eyebrow. "A musical based off of that guy you killed?"

"Yes. But apparently he's alive. Ramona told me."

"....I see-"

"BUT as soon as the production takes off, I may or may not return some of Gideon's empire to him. I'm sure that asshole is scheming to reclaim it as we speak..." He grumbled, his attitude turning sour again.

You thought about what you could say to cheer him up without patronizing him...but fortunately that wasn't too hard to figure out.

"I wouldn't worry about him. May I ask who you'll be starring as in the musical?" You rested your arms on the table, smirking as you saw the way Matthew's eyes lit up.

"Why, of course!" With a wide grin, he jumped up onto the table, dramatically posing. "I will be the main character: Scott Pilgrim!! I vow to delight and entertain people everywhere!" He laughed, before he stopped and stared down at you. "[Y/n], may I show you a presentation of my many one-man shows? They've all prepared me for this moment and I'd love your opinion on them."

"Sure." Shrugging, you smiled and leaned back in your seat. "I'm getting paid overtime for this, right?"

His face fell flat. "...I'm supposed to give you guys overtime?"

"Well...Gideon never did, but--nevermind." You shook your head. "You can roll the footage."

His grin returned as he snapped his fingers, causing the room to darken and the TV to come to life, showing off one of his many recorded performances.

It was a two hour long video, but entertaining nonetheless. You recognized a lot of the songs and were impressed by all his method acting.

It's no wonder he made such a convincing CEO.

After that, he finally allowed you to go home with a promise to give you overtime....although not before he exchanged phone numbers with you as thanks for being his unofficial therapist for the day.

He claims it's so he can update you on the musical's progress and "other business stuff", as he put it.

But he kept calling you on your days off to talk, insisting you referred to him as Matthew instead. "Mr. Patel" was slowly starting to leave a bad taste in his mouth.

You didn't mind it, though.

At this point, you accepted the fact that you became your boss' first (and possibly only) friend.

Maybe after he surrenders the G-Man empire for good, that friendship can continue.

[xhoneygirlxx]

Training Wheels

Eddie Munson x plus sized fem!reader

summary: two roommates in love never seem to work. or do they?

warnings: slight angst, mentions of insecurity and people being mean to reader. fluff. jealous eddie. possessive eddie. roommate au. modern au. idiots in love. friends to lovers. reader and eddie are 21+. y/n is not used (babe, baby, princess, sweetheart used). smut, 18+ only, minors DNI. slight dom/sub dynamic. unprotected p in v, reader is described to be on birth control. oral receiving (f). fingering. cream pie. sexual innuendos. swearing. mentions of alcohol consumption, reader is sober!! shitty writing and grammar mistakes.

*if I miss anything please let me know*

a/n: hey loves! I decided to make this post into a little series, this being the first of many to come. as you all know I’m not good at writing smut so please be kind to me! I hope you guys enjoy this little self indulgence piece!! I love you guys <3

I love everything you do,

When you call me fuckin' dumb for the stupid shit I do.

I wanna ride my bike with you,

Fully undressed, no trainin' wheels left for you,

I'll pull them off for you.

Walking out of the sanctuary of your room, you make your way over to the hallway mirror for one last makeup check. Running the tip of your tongue over your teeth, you check for any remnants of the red lipstick that sits on your lips. You check over the tips of your black eyeline to make sure they're still in place and not smudged.

With one last look you run your fingers through your hair, you head towards the door. Walking past the living room you see Eddie laying on the couch with his phone in his hand, more than likely scrolling on tik tok to pass the time.

"Hey Eds, I'm going out with the girls tonight. I'll probably be home late." You call over your shoulder as you collect your keys and purse from the kitchen island.

The sound of shuffling comes from behind you, the motions of your best friend pushing himself up from his slumped position. The nonresponse from the man behind you throws you off just a bit, quietly questioning why he hasn't said anything.

Turning around to face him, you have a hand back and forth to pull him out of his apparent stare. "Hellooo, earth to Eddie."

"S-sorry, what did you say?" Eddie stutters out as his eyes trace down the outline of your figure.

Rolling your eyes, you shake your head in faux annoyance. "I said, I'm going out for drinks with the girls. I'll be home a little late."

Big brown pools snap up to your gaze and for once the intensity of his stare holds something you can't understand.

"Whatever." He snaps at you pushing himself up from the couch, brushing past you to head to the kitchen where he grabs a beer.

The complete attitude change from your best friend rattles you completely, especially when he has never raised his voice at you over the many years of friendship.

Not wanting to let the little hiccup ruin the rest of your night, you grab your things and head towards the door.

From the moment the front door shuts, Eddie feels like his whole world has shattered. He wanted to smack himself for his icy demeanor towards you, for snapping at you for no reason at all. Actually he did have a reason but that wasn't the point. The point was you were his best friend and you didn't deserve the passive aggressiveness from him.

It's not like he could control his emotions when you were wearing that sexy outfit. Your breasts sat so nicely in that red corset crop top and the little pudge of your tummy peaking out at the bottom was something close to an early Christmas present.

The sinful fishnets that wrapped around your plush thighs were just mocking him, laughing at his hardening cock. Then that tight little skirt, God did he hate it. He hated the way that it called out to him, begging him to rip it right off of your body.

Those plump lips he wished to kiss for years, were masked in a red tint from your lipstick. It disgusted him how he imagined ruining it, smudging it on your chin with the tip of his cock.

Eddie was angry with himself for thinking these things about his best friend, the girl that's been there with him through think and thin, the girl that's owned his heart from the moment he met her, and how he so badly wanted to fuck the ever living shit out of her.

To make matters worse, you were going to a bar. A bar that was probably filled with gross pricks that would try to get in your panties. He had to sit with the thought of you letting them take you home, how you'd giggle at their dumb jokes and how you'd moan so pretty as they slipped the tip in.

The whole time you were gone that's all he could think about, jealousy rushing through his veins and the green eyed monster rearing it's ugly head out of him. He sat on the couch all night, staring at the wall as he let all the thoughts get to him.

He needed to tell you how he felt and he needed to tell you now. So he waited and waited until you'd eventually stumble through the front door.

Creeping into the front door as quietly as you can, you kick your shoes off by the front door and set your purse and keys down on the kitchen island. Walking over to the fridge you grab a water bottle, putting the plastic rim to your lips and swallowing the cold crisp liquid hit your dehydrated tongue.

"You're home early." Eddie says quietly. Jumping slightly, you turn your attention to the living room where he sits on the couch, not bothering to look at you.

Swallowing the last of the water that sits in your mouth, you release a small breath. "Yeah, we didn't really feel like getting blacked out." You laugh slightly and clear your throat when you realize he still seems to be in his mood.

"Plus all the guys at the bar were busted, so." You shrug closing the cap on your bottle.

Rounding the counter, you make your way to your room not wanting to piss Eddie off anymore. To your surprise Eddie follows you, heavy footsteps hot on your trail as you open the door to your room.

"So you didn't talk to anyone?" His voice holds a certain kind of heat, like he's waiting for you to say the wrong answer.

Walking over to your dresser, you bend over to open the pajama drawer and grab the first oversized shirt you could find. "What if I did? You gonna punish me, dad?"

When you turn to face Eddie you see that his jaw is clenching and nostrils flaring with anger. Although you should ask him what his issue is and match his energy for being rude to you, you simply play into it. If he was going to be pissy with you, why not have fun with it?

"I mean there was this one guy, said I had the nicest lips he's ever seen." Your voice holds so much seduction you could work for a sex hotline, you think.

Walking over to him your stare is alluring, pulling him right into your whirlpool just to spit him back out a dazed man.

"Wanna know what else he said, Eds?" You ask with a pout, "He said that he couldn't wait to see how good they'd feel wrapped around him." You dance your fingers up his tee shirt teasingly.

Of course this wasn't true but he didn't need to know that. The thing was you wouldn't touch anyone with a ten foot pole, not when your heart belonged to your best friend. With that being said, you often had to resort to your own hand to take care of yourself while picturing the beautiful man in front of you. It's not like you could do it often when he just happened to be your roommate but it happened enough that you felt guilty for thinking about your best friend that way.

You watch as Eddie balls his hands into fists, knuckles turning white with how much force he does so. You know for a fact that he isn't jealous, he's probably mad about your lack of stranger danger and wants to lecture you about how it could be dangerous to you. To postpone that boring ten minute ramble, you add more fuel to the fire just for the hell of it.

You bat your lashes up at him, biting your lip as a giggle seeps out. "Want to know what else he said?"

When he doesn't answer you, you giggle at his pissed off expression before continuing your little performance.

"That's okay, I'll tell you anyway," Lifting on your tip toes, you place your lips right by his ear, "he said he couldn't wait to see how tight my pussy felt."

You slowly let yourself fall back onto your feet, staring up at him with a wide smirk. Before you can enjoy your victory of pissing him off Eddie's ringed hands grip the fat of your cheeks.

"You're real funny, princess, but I'll let you on a little secret," Bending slightly to be eye level with you, he grins widely at you like a hungry wolf. "That won't be happening any time soon, wanna know why?"

He uses the same tone on you and it makes your legs clench together in need, the thin fabric of your panties soaking from the gush of arousal he's making you feel.

Nodding the best you can, you mumble a yes through your squished lips.

"It's not gonna happen because you and I know that cunt is mine."

The way he says it makes your heart stop. There's not one ounce of question, no hint of laughter or a joke, just pure seriousness. You furrow your eyebrows complete befuddlement.

Eddie chuckles loudly, chest vibrating from the volume all while you still try to understand what he's implying.

"See, this is why I was so upset earlier," One of his fingers finds the low neckline of your top, lightly tracing right where it sits over your breasts, "You put on this sexy little outfit. Made me s'hard, sweetheart, and then you left me all by myself. S'not nice, is it?"

You shake your head and his lips spread to show his pretty white teeth. "That's right, baby. S'not nice but you did it anyway." He pouts, feigning sadness.

"Then you come home and mock me. I should punish you for being such a bad girl, what do you think?"

The threat and the ache between your thighs makes you whimper and he laughs sadistically at you.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" Releasing his fingers just a bit, he gives you just enough room to move your lips to answer.

"Don’t wanna be punished, m’sorry." Your eyes begin to mist over with tears, the overwhelming emotions running through you ready to spill out right.

Jutting his lip out, he runs his thumb over your bottom lip smearing the pretty red onto your chin.

"Hmm I don't know if I believe you." Cocking his head to the side, he trails his eyes over misery that comes from your own.

"I swear I won't be bad anymore, j-just please." You beg as tears start to fall from your eyes.

To prove your point, you rack your nails over the growing bulge in his jeans. When a small moan rattles in the back of his throat and his eyes shut in pleasure, you take that as a sign to lightly squeeze it. The moment you do he hisses through gritted teeth, snapping his eyes back open.

"Get on the bed, baby." Not wanting to make him ask twice, you all but run over to your bed laying down at the head of the bed and let your head fall back on the pillows.

As he stalks over to you, he palms himself through his pants. The sight itself makes you wetter, causing you to clench your legs together tightly to quell the pulsing of your sex.

"Be a good girl and take your top of."

Leaning up, you scramble to get the article over your head just as he asked. Your breasts bounce from their confines, sitting a tad bit lower due to their size.

Embarrassment burns through you, anxiety rising the longer he stares at your bare chest and tummy. Snapping out of the moment just for a second, you pull your arms over your chest.

"I um, I'm sorry about all the stretch marks and stuff. I know it's not so appealing to have to look at all this so if you want me to put a shirt back on we can."

Your too ashamed to look at him, finding solace in the design on your bed's comforter. Out of the peripheral of your eyes you can see him moving towards you. Hesitantly he taps your legs, a silent ask of permission to have a seat. Shuffling your legs back just a bit, you give him enough room to sit.

The bed dips with his weight and the beat of your heart begins to go faster. His hand reaches out to you, his thumb and forefinger lightly grasping at your chin. Turning your head to look at him, you slowly move your eyes to where your head has been pulled to.

Eddie looks at you with kind eyes, the same ones you're so used to seeing. Brown eyes sparkling brightly under the low light of your bedside lamp.

"Baby, I promise you I love every single part of you."

"Everyone says that until it's all over and then they act like they don't know me because they're repulsed by the thought of their friends finding out they fucked the fat girl."

His face turns into a serious one, like he wants to jump up and fight whoever has made you feel self conscious.

"Well guess what, I love the shape of your body. Baby, I think you're the sexiest woman to have walked the face of the earth. You do realize you left me here with blue balls for over three hours right? Like I couldn't get rid of them no matter what I did."

You snort loudly and quickly slap a hand over your lips to hide the laughter that continues to spill from your mouth. Eddie raises his eyebrows in shock, grasping at his chest in mock hurt.

"What, you don't believe me? Well I will have you know that I have been blue balled by you over one thousand times in our friendship."

He promptly crosses his arms over his chest with a harrumph. You let the hand covering your mouth fall, now using it to swat at his chest with a bright smile.

"Shut the hell up, no I haven't" You laugh and he gapes at you.

"Um excuse you, yes you have," He swats back at you, "Why do you think Steve's mom's expensive hand towel went, huh?"

"That was you? Steve had a whole pity party over that thing, took him like sixth months to get over it." You gasp and he only shrugs.

"Not my fault I had to jerk off because you decided to wear that bathing suit. Besides I was doin' them a favor, imagine the horror on that woman's face when she found it dry from my cu-"

His sentence is cut off by your palm. You grimace lightly at the image he's painted for you in his words and it makes him chuckle under the weight of your hand. Then he starts licking all over your palm making you flinch back with a disgusted noise.

A belly laugh comes from him when he sees you wipe your hand on the clean comforter that covers your bed. When you look up at him with an unamused look, he only beams brightly at you with the hint of his dimples.

"As I was saying, I'd love nothing more than making the woman that own's my heart feel good. Will you let me?" He looks at you adoringly and you can't help but slip right into the comforting warmth of his eyes.

When you say yes, Eddie jumps from his sitting position with a fist in the sky. He pulls childish laugher from you as he continues to victory dance over your answer. After a moment he collects himself, clearing his throat before making a "very serious" face that only makes you laugh even harder.

Pulling his shirt over his head and letting his pants fall down to his ankles, he's only left in blue checkered boxers. Laying back down on your bed, you let your hands fall to the wayside so he can see all of you.

Tapping your knee once more, he doesn't have to ask you to part them for him since you're quick to do so. Settling himself between your thighs, he lets his eyes wander over the expanse of your body, the same one he'd dreamed of for years.

You do the same, using your eyes to trace over the ink that covers his chest, the same ones you prayed for all these years to touch. Your hand finds it's way to his face, cupping his cheek softly.

"You're so beautiful, Eddie." You want to tell him that he's so pretty you could cry but instead to decide to keep it to yourself, just for now.

He wraps his fingers around your wrist, bringing it to his lips and placing a delicate kiss on the same palm he'd licked only moments before.

"Thank you baby, but I think you're prettier." The sincerity in his voice makes butterflies appear in your tummy, all of them flapping about in joy.

The two of you stare at one another for a moment, letting all the words you never got to say come out with just your eyes. The unwavering love that the two of you have for one another spills into this moment and fills both of your heats with the love they yearned for.

You're not sure who makes the first move but it doesn't matter, not when his lips fit so perfectly with yours. It's soft and loving at first, the two of you trying to memorize the way your lips feel together. Then you let your tongue sneak out just a little, asking for permission to enter his mouth and he quickly obliges.

With all the love and unspoken feelings out, the two of you go at it like hungry wolves. The desire, lust, and want mixing itself into the moment after years of waiting. Tongues dance in sync with each other, mapping out the one place it's always wanted to.

Then he grinds into you and you push your hips up to meet his motions, whining into his mouth loudly. Using your teeth you bite down on his lower lip, lightly pulling it back making him groan.

"Fuck, you're so hot." He pants using one of his hands to snake up to the harden bud of your nipple, pinching it roughly before groping the doughy flesh in his big palm.

You mewl at his touch, pushing your hips up once more to find any sort of friction to help with ache of your untouched clit. Eddie pulls away suddenly causing you to whine and pout. Chuckling and shaking his head, he uses his hands to shimmy your skirt over your hips.

"Relax, princess, I just wanna get a taste of this pretty cunt. I promise I'll give you what you want."

You try to close your legs but his hips stop you from doing so. Leaning up on your elbow quickly, you look at him with wide eyes.

"You don't um-, you can skip this part." It's frantic and it makes Eddie pull his hands off of you.

"Are you okay? Did I do something-" He can't finish his sentence before your cutting him off.

"No you didn't do anything wrong, it's just guys usually skip this part." You chew on the inside of your cheek.

Eddie's eyes also go wide, comically so. "You're telling me, all those pricks you've been with never ate you out?"

You shake your head instead of answering knowing your voice would ultimately fail you. He kisses his teeth and blows out a loud breath. "What a shame, those assholes didn't know what they had."

You roll your eyes even though a shy smile begins to show on your face. Still hesitant in his actions, Eddie looks at you for reassurance that you're comfortable.

"Listen, I don't have to do this if you don't want to, but just know if you think you're doing me a favor by saying I don't need to go down on you is nothing but a crime. You'd seriously be depriving me of the one thing on my bucket list."

The apples of your cheeks round even more with how hard your cheesing. Leaning up, you pull him into a soft kiss before laying back. Letting your thighs back open, you look up at him challenging.

"Show me what you got, big boy."

Smiling ecstatically, he shimmies himself down onto his stomach right between your legs. Using both hands he grabs at your fishnets, right where they sit over your center, and rips them making a large hole for himself.

Before you can chastise him for ruining your favorite tights, he peaks up over the hill of your belly, "I'll buy you another pair."

Going back down to his place, he runs his finger tip over your thong covered slit. You jolt from the small amount of pressure of his finger making him stifle a laugh.

"Jesus, you're soaking." He says quietly while still running back and forth over your dampened panties.

Pulling them to the side, he pulls the fat of your lips apart to get a good look at your glistening sex. When he runs the tip of his tongue from your hole to your clit, you lift your hips once more.

Wrapping his arms around your thighs, he keeps you in your place against the best. He does the same thing again but this time he uses his whole tongue.

"You taste s'good, s'my new favorite meal." It's muffled due to the cushion of your thighs but you still hear it.

Sobbing in need, you try to shimmy yourself into his touch. Getting the message, he dives back in shoving the warm muscle right into your tight hole.

Flicking his tongue in and out of you, he removes one of his hands from your thighs and pulls it back down to your cunt, using his thumb to swirl around your aching clit.

"S-shit, just like that." You encourage him, moaning even louder when he switches his tongue and fingers.

With two of his fingers now filling you up, crooked just right and his tongue circling around your clit, you feel the burn in your belly. When he hits the sponge spot you can't reach yourself, you all but scream out in euphoria.

Pulling off your bundle of nerves with a pop, he looks up at you with a Cheshire Cat grin.

"Is that the spot, baby? S'it feel good when I hit right there?"

You can't answer him, too lost in the feeling of his fingers. You toss your head back and forth, babbling and moaning from the feeling.

"Awe, I haven't even fucked you yet and I got you all dumb. Isn't that right, honey? I got you stupid just from my two fingers?" His voice is cocky and it makes you clench around him harder than before.

"Y-yes, don't s-stop. Please don't stop." Your voice trembles and cracks but you don't care.

Doing as you asked, Eddie pulls your clit back into his mouth and pumps his fingers even faster into you. Your getting closer and closer to the edge, toeing right at the finish line of your orgasm.

Your hand finds it's way to the back of Eddie's head, pulling the curly hair at the roots. A loud moan comes rips right out of his chest, vibrating your clit that's he sucks on.

That's all it takes for your toes to curl and your back arch off the bed. Eddie's name falls off your lips like a sacred prayer until you can't speak anymore. You're completely catapulted into cloud nine, floating high up above in pure bliss.

Eddie's voice pulls you back into reality, helping you come back into your body where your bones have completely melted into your bed.

Now leaning over you, Eddie pushes your sweat soaked hair out of your face and places delicate kisses on your wet skin.

"You did so good for me, honey. Such a good girl for me." He's gentle when he speaks and it calms the erratic beat of your heart.

"Kiss?" You rasp out and he gives in with a small snort at the mess you've become.

Pulling away quicker than you'd like, he looks down at you with a dopey smile.

"You feelin alright?" Nodding you push your hips back up to meet his covered shaft, and he laughs breathlessly. "Alright, alright, I'm gettin' there."

You giggle up at him and he's quick to peck your lips once more.

"You're so fuckin' pretty when you laugh." It's so soft, like he's letting you in on a secret no one else knows and in that moment you melt completely.

When he leans back on his haunches, he begins to look around your room and you realize what he must be searching for.

"I'm clean and I have the iud, so if you're comfortable you don't have to use a condom." The moment you finish your statement Eddie closes his eyes tightly, scrunching his face up like he's pained.

"Sweetheart, you can't say things like that unless you want me to blow my load right now." Opening his eyes, he looks at you with a straightest face.

You clap your hands over your cheeks as you burst with laughter. "I didn't even say anything!" You exclaim.

Rolling his eyes with a scoff, he begins to shimmy his boxers down his legs. "I didn't even say anything, shut up." He mocks throwing his boxers to the floor.

Leaning over you once again, he uses on arm that's he's bracing himself with to line himself up to your hole. Guiding the tip of his cock through your folds, he swirls your wetness around before nudging the entrance.

"Once we do this, we can't go back to being just friends." He gazes at you trying to catch any hint of hesitation from you.

Instead you smile fondly at him, "I don't want to go back to being just friends."

His lips stretch into a smile and his eyes sparkle with warmth. "Good because I don't think I'd be able to after this."

Going ever so slowly, he pushes himself into you causing you to gasp at the intrusion. You've had sex before but Eddie is bigger than anyone you've ever had, the stretch from him is unlike anything you've ever felt.

Using his free hand, he swirls your clit to help with any uncomforting feelings you feel. "I know, baby, you can take it." The reassurance causes a spark to run through your veins.

Pushing himself all the way in, he waits to start moving so you can get accustom to him. When you give him a nod, he begins to pump into you at a faster pace than before. Looking down at you, he watches as your mouth falls open into the perfect O shape.

"Fuck, you feel so good. Better than I could have imagined." His words make you clench around him and he whimpers loudly from the feeling.

Eddie pushes your thighs up to your tummy causing him to go even deeper, hitting that sweet spot only he can find.

"Oh my God." You cry out loudly and Eddie lets a breathless laugh fall from his lips.

"M'not God, baby, but I'll shit-, I'll take it as a compliment."

"F-faster Eds, please. Wanna cum, wanna cum s'bad." Your eyes begin to prick with tears with how good you feel.

Eddie obliges, thrusting faster than before. The slapping of skin and the squelch of your wet cunt fill your room. The pretty moans and whimpers that fall from the man on top of you ring out in your ears and in this moment you wish you could record them.

"You take me so well, s'like you're made for me."

You can't say anything, too wrapped up in the live wire that you've become. The rubber band in the pit of your stomach is pulling tighter and tighter with every pump of his cock, pushing you closer and closer to your release.

"This pretty cunt is mine. Say it sweetheart, say it's- fuck, say it's mine." Eddie demands.

"S'yours, it's yours, Eds." You cry.

Removing one of his arms that sit next to your head, he goes back to thumbing at your clit causing you to grip onto him harder.

"This body, those lips, your heart, they're mine. Say you're mine, baby. I'm all yours, have been from the beginning, now say I'm yours." It's not a demand but more of a plea.

Your mind is reeling, the feeling of Eddie is everywhere and your heart has finally found it's rightful place with it's rightful owner.

"It's all yours, s'all yours. Always has been." You shout as tears begin to roll down your face. "I'm gonna cum, m'gonna cum. Want you to cum too, Eds, want it inside me."

"Yeah, want me to fill you up? Want my cum to drip out of you so everyone knows who you belong to?" He grits out and that's all it takes for you to wail.

You release around him, gripping his cock tightly as you gush around him. Eddie isn't too far behind you, spilling his warm seed inside of you.

With one final grunt and thrust, Eddie collapses on top of you. The two of you sit for a moment, allowing yourselves to catch your breathing. Pushing himself up on his knees, he slowly pulls out of you causing the two of you to hiss out at the same time.

He sits for a moment watching his spend fall from your still clenching hole before pushing it back in with his fingers. When he's done with that, he leans over the side of your bed and picks of his shirt and wipes off the mess between your legs.

"Please do not tell me you're using your shirt to clean cum off of me." You deadpan as you stare at the ceiling.

Eddie snorts using the now soiled shirt to wipe himself off. "I mean I could use Mrs. Harrington's-"

"Absolutely not." You shout, pushing yourself up balancing on the palms of your hands.

The two of you fall into a fit of giggles, the fuzziness of your afterglows clearly in effect. After they die down, the two of you sit in silence unsure of what comes next.

Moving your legs to the side of your bed, you push yourself up from the bed. "I'm going to go shower but if you'd like, you're more than welcome to join, lover boy." You announce over your shoulder, picking up the discarded sleep shirt from before.

"Oh no, it's- I'll just stay." He stutters nervously and a part of you wants to tease about where his confident side went.

"Suit yourself," You shrug, "but just know you'll be missing this." Picking up the back part of your skirt, you show him your fishnet and thong covered ass.

When you look back over your shoulder you see him with a fresh coat of pink colored flush coating his cheeks, staring unbashful wide eyed at your behind.

Feeling like you haven't teased him enough, you shimmy your backside causing it to ripple in movement. "Well, I guess I'll be on my way." You say as you walk towards the door.

Springing from the bed, Eddie wraps you in a bearlike hug from behind. "Nuh uh, I have to come with you now."

Pushing back on him with your rear, you continue to shake your ass against his hardening length. His hand cracks down hard on the doughy flesh making you squeal in shock.

"Fuck I love this ass. Can't wait to see you do that under the water." He teases biting his tongue.

Rolling your eyes affectionately, you place a kiss to his lips. "Whatever my baby wants, my baby gets."

Turning back on your heel, you pull him by the arm guiding you to the bathroom with you.

"Hell yeah I'm your baby," He pumps his fist in the air then clears his throat quickly to play off his dorky celebration. "I mean you might have to let everyone know cause if I do it, it won’t be pretty.”

"Alright Rocky Balboa, lets get in this shower so I can so you what it looks like from the back."

Thank you all for reading! love you all <3

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[bokutosmochi]

kinktober day two: praise kink!

LOVE YOU TO DEATH ♡ GETO SUGURU

geto suguru x goth!fem!reader

what's it: smut

allergen warning/s: penetrative sex, pain play, hair pulling, choking, praise kink, reader becomes self conscious because of some kids they come across, reader is described as having a pale face because they're wearing gothic makeup which usually includes a pale foundation even when the person doesn't have pale skin

sugar level: 0.7k

regulars: @ventdavi154 @deobiforever @sugusshi @angelshub

parlor's note: kinktober is just me making my alt self happy, apparently

bon appetit!

you could barely remember how you got into the situation you are in right now; not that you have a problem with it. you certainly had no complains about your boyfriend relentlessly thrusting his cock in and out of your abused hole. perhaps him ruining your makeup by making you tear up with how good it feels, but you couldn't get yourself to care. it all felt so good. suguru knew all your spots, how to touch you, how to angle his hips to make you cry out in pure pleasure. and more than that, he also was kind enough to remind you what happened for you to end up in this position in the first place.

you were outside a few hours ago to pick up a few things from the grocery store, dressed to the nines in gothic clothing when you came across some kids a year or two younger than you who were less than pleasant to deal with. you didn't know when it became socially acceptable to scream degrading names and throw things at a total stranger just because you did not like how they dressed, but you must have missed the memo.

most of the time, you simply shrugged it off, but for some reason, your brain was not cooperating today. you were plagued with thoughts of self-doubt.

suguru caught you unhappily staring at yourself in the mirror, nitpicking everything about yourself; from your natural physical appearance, to your style, and now you were here, being reassured by your sweet boyfriend in a special way that only he can do.

"c'mon princess," he grips your hair and tugs on it to make you look in the mirror in front of you. your back is arched in a way that does wonders for his dick, your eyeliner is running down your pale face, and your bold black lipstick is smudged all over the bottom half of your face. "look at yourself and tell me you don't look pretty as fuck." the words are panted out of suguru's lips, also having traces of your lipstick on when he kissed you hungrily moments before.

"say it, baby. give yourself a little praise and i'll give you what you want." suguru punctuated his sentence with wet kisses on your neck and a hand around your throat; he didn't squeeze though, not yet.

when you were unable to reply to him, your brain lightyears away from where you physically are, he bit at your shoulder, deep enough for it to hurt in the most delicious way possible. his eyes darkened as well. "tell. me." he accentuated the growled out words with stronger thrusts making his cock hit deeper inside of your spongy walls; something you didn't even know was possible because he was already so deep in before.

at this point, you didn't even know how you were able to hear his hushed whispers. the sound of sweaty skin slapping against sweaty skin was so loud, filling your bedroom with lewd noises.

"i-" you struggled with getting the words out. "i look pretty like this."

"there you go," suguru murmured. the pride in his voice rang clear as a bell and as he promised, he straighted up so he'd be on his knees with you bouncing on his lap and the hand that wasn't on your throat traveled to your clit, rubbing quick circles on it.

"i-i look so pr-pretty when- ah fuck- when i- uh- dr-dress up and i look pretty when i'm not."

from where his lips were softly pressed on your heated skin, you felt him smile and hum. "that's my girl." he rasped out, the praise in his deep, rich voice made your pussy tighten.

"who's the prettiest girl in the world?"

the room was so warm, and suguru was even warmer. it only made every so much more hot to you.

"i am."

"there we go, sweetheart." he laid you down on the bed with little to no effort and hovered above you. the hand that was around your throat tightened and the lack of air flow made your eyes roll to the back of your head.

"now lemme treat you the way you deserve to be treated, princess."

i get: reblog

you get: the ability to draw your eyeliner symmetrical on the first try

[piratefishmama]

Crossing The Line | Part 14

Said metalhead was wearing a leather jacket, black, ripped at the knee denim jeans with a wallet chain dangling from a belt loop draped round to his back pocket, a bullet belt, that shouldn’t have been as attractive as it was, combat boots, and an iron maiden tee.

His hair was its seemingly usual unruly mass of dark brown curls, and he had lightly smudged dark eyeliner around his eyes to make his eyes pop. That was the extent of how much effort Eddie had put into his outfit. And yet he looked like the tastiest little snack Steve had ever seen in his life, he loved it.

They were like polar opposites style wise but from the look on Eddie’s face they were both exactly what each other wanted.

“Sweater vest for Eddie” Steve parroted with a warm smile and a bashful little, “I figured… I mean… I thought you’d like it.”

Now, Eddie had turned up at that apartment, with the intention of figuring out whether or not Steve was wearing ear plugs at his gig and just lying to him to get into his pants (which, flattering, but also rude), and going from there.

But then Steve opened the door in that sweater vest. With that smile. Claiming he wore it because he thought Eddie would like it and his heart just did a series of pathetic flip flops and any hope of Eddie ever being mad even if he did wear earplugs went out the window because what the fuck. What the fuck.

What the ever-loving fuck.

How was this man real?

He needed to send Mike Wheeler a goddamn gift basket for sort of introducing him to the guy although he was pretty sure Mike would blow a gasket knowing he was severely crushing on the guy who apparently ‘ruined’ crazy train.

He didn’t even ruin it, it was just… a different style than Crazy Train was supposed to be in! “I love it… suits you way more than the metal look, definitely should have worn it for the gig.” Would have stuck out like a sore thumb but by god he’d have been the prettiest thing there.

Cool as a cucumber, Steve leaned himself against the doorframe, that bashful smile turning coy with just the raise of a brow and the flash of teeth “I dunno, then I’d have missed the look on your face just now.”

“Well I mean, sweater vests, cute glasses, slippers, are we having a cosy night in, Stevie?” Be cool, be cool, be super cool, don’t be a weird little nerd, don’t be a weird little nerd.

Steve reached out, warm hands taking Eddie’s own, then gently, he tugged Eddie inside. “Well, we can if you come in.” And he was hit by a wall of something delicious. A smell so delightful that his stomach just had to rumble in protest over the fact that he wasn’t already eating it.

Ear plugs? Who gave a shit about ear plugs really?

Okay no, he had to stick to some morals, even if his stomach was angrily telling him to wait until after dinner because then at least if Steve turned out to be a very sneaky asshole, he’d at least have gotten a meal out of the night.

“Wait wait” the door was closed but at least Steve seemed to pause, that smile dropping, replaced by curiosity, god how did he make that look cute? Stupid knitwear an glasses combo. “Okay so… this is probably gonna sound dumb, but Frank noticed it, y’know Frank, our bassist? He uhm… he noticed you were wearing what looked like ear plugs at the gig and uh…” oh god the eyes widened, his eyes widened, Eddie wanted the floor to swallow him whole. First real date in god. How many years? And he was fucking it up by bringing up something nobody else would bring up on a date with Steve Goddamn Harrington. “…Were they… earplugs?”

Fuckers would probably just be happy to be there. Could wear those big ol construction site noise cancelling headphones and nobody else would bat an eyelid, but it was about PROFESSIONAL COURTESY, Eddie was a musician too!

He didn’t want to be on a date with someone in the industry (wildly different success rates with it but WHO CARES) who was lying about liking his music to get in his pants.

It could have gone a few different ways, gaslighting being one of them, but Steve smiled, he had such a pretty smile good lord. “Mmhm, c’mere I’ll show you.” Steve was still holding his hand, so Steve had the full capability of pulling him through the entryway toward one of the two bedrooms in the obviously temporary apartment, probably just rented for the time they were there like an Air BnB situation. The room was pretty tidy, save for a little dressing table covered in hair products. “Theeese are them.” And he produced a little silver cannister from his bag and deposited it into Eddie’s hand.

Curious snooping was pretty much accepted in that situation, so Eddie unscrewed the top and emptied the contents into his palm, two sets of black earplugs with a little hole running through the centre, fitted with a sort of white mesh material which sat snuggly within the hole.

“…What am I looking at here, Steve?” Steve just breathed a little laugh and took one from him, then popped the centre circle out of one, the little white mesh disk sitting perfectly in his palm.

“So, short story long, I was a dumb teenager. Rich kid surrounded by bad influences, y’know the whole stereotypical drill, pretty much every magazine in the country and some outside of it painted me as kind of an asshole, ‘King Steve’ they’d call me. I hated it but it’s kind of like quicksand in those old adventure movies, y’know? Just dragging you under, inescapable. Anyway, I also walked headfirst into a low set doorway ogling Chris Hemsworth’s biceps so... I’ve had a few brain injuries.” He tapped the side of his head with his index finger twice in rapid succession. “That uh… it has side effects… brains are tricky, a few too many concussions can get you hearing loss, sight loss, it can get you chronic migraines, aversion to sound, lights, it can do a lot of invisible damage… I… struggle with sound sometimes. And my sight too hence the glasses, but sound is the relevant one here.”

Eddie tilted his head a little in question, a silent motion to continue, research had given him none of this information. Maybe that he was a shitty teenager once but nothing else.

“Sharp noises, like uh… electric guitars played in a certain way, speakers turned all the way up, I get migraines basically and these are designed to filter out certain pitches to make things easier on my ears. Maybe… maybe I missed a few chords here and there, maybe some of it sounded a little off, but I can still hear through the plugs just fine. Robin got them for me, they’re supposed to help people with tinnitus, sensory issues, migraines…” he took the plugs back one by one, placing them back into the cannister and dropping it back into his bag, before he returned to Eddie and retook his hands, giving them a gentle squeeze “I swear I could hear just fine during your gig, and I really enjoyed it. I really like your music, Eddie… I think you’re amazing.”

Eddie felt like he was going to spontaneously combust right there on the spot.

Flattery always did have a certain effect on him, and with it being laid on so thick, honeyed words without an ounce of dishonesty in them… there was really only one response he could conjure in the moment, “…can I kiss you?” And the smile it earned, worth the brain dead moment.

“Well since you asked so nicely, but only one, dinner first, kisses later.” Kisses. Kisses. Plural. Many many kisses. Eddie felt like one of those cartoon characters that got all flushed and then just simply melted. Even though the kiss Steve gave him was chaste, a gentle, but lingering press of soft lips against his own, one of Steve’s hands cradled his cheek and god,

How had he lived until that moment not kissing Steve Harrington?

“Nono one more” was his sole complaint when Steve eased back, feeling the breath of Steve’s laugh dusting his damp lips, and the caress of his lips so very close whispering,

“Okay, just one” before doing just that.

Part 16

[summerlovingbaby]

great balls of fire

great balls of fire

Dustin had been annoying Eddie to go to some dive bar out on the outskirts of town. How he got in the club remained unseen, because Dustin looked 16 on a goodday, but most days he only looked 12. But apparently his “night out” was reinventing. “ Reinvgorating” was what he used to describe it, and while Eddie wasn’t exactly sure what that word ment, though he assumed it was something good, he was bored, and scouting new locations for his band. Apparently he saw some girl, and while he only had the courage to watch from a far, he knew Eddie would have to see her to understand. So he drove to the outskirts of town, flashed his ID at the bouncer who barley looked at it, and let him in.

The club was shit, fulled with middle age men who pissed away their paychecks on bad booze and worse women. The bar was filled with men stirring warm beer with her finger, and a handful of older women sipping on fruity drinks.

Thats when he saw her, a woman, no older than 20, slinging drinks. She was wearing bright red, which stood out in the dreary environment, and her maroon lipstick drew all eyes to the center of her face. Smudges of silver glittery eyeshadow messily covered her eyelids, brought together with a delicate sweep of eyeliner applied with a gentle hand.

Her bottom half was hidden behind the counter, he couldn’t tell what she was wearing but he hoped it wasn’t much. Dustin was right, the girl was pretty, the girl was more then pretty, she was stunning. Shockingly stunning, the type of hot that only existed in pictures, too pretty for reality, yet here she was in a shitty bar. 

She smiled at a customer, as she mixed her a drink, she said something that Eddie couldn’t quite pick up over the loud music, then for a minute, she looked at him, well technically past him, but he was being optimistic. She had pretty eyes, brown and subtle, hints of gold bouncing off the flashing club lights.

A mess of shouts brought her attention to the stage, where another bartender was getting grabbed at by handsy men. She tried her best to shove them off, but their were just too many, and they were too drunk to hear no for an awser. He looked at the club security who stared at the crowd, carelessly. Useless. Eddie was just about to step  in when he saw Y/N put the drink she was stirring aside, and pushed herself on the counter.

Sitting flat on her butt, she swung her legs over and landed on the otherside. First things Eddie noticed was her legs. They were shockingly bare. Most of the women in Hawkins barley exposed an ankle, let alone full upper thigh, but she was wearing something that Eddie could barley classify as shorts, and more of slightly long underwear.

She reached back behind the bar, grabbed a glass bottle full of booze and took a long swig. Then skipped to the stage, and grabbed the microphone.

“ HEEEELLLLLOOOOO,” she hollered into the microphone.

The crowd calmed down in her presence, and Eddie found himself moving closer to the stage.

“ It’s me your favorite bartender, Y/N L/N,” she said quieter. The bar mostly fell silent, but one lone voice shouted from the void of the crowd.

“ Sing another song!”

“ Alright, alright, slow down give me a moment, we talked about this. I will only sing a song if you behave yourself, and ya’ll have not been very friendly with my friend. You don’t touch what isn’t yours, and you certainly don’t touch when people say no, now give my friend an apology.” she placed her hands on her hips and tapped her foot as a chorus of men apologized.

Eddie walked headfirst in the crowd, unable to take his eyes of the stage where Y/N stood. He watched as she took the microphone from the stand, and paced around until she was satisfied with the cacophony of apologizes. 

She walked to the corner of the stage, where an old rickety piano rested. Leaning on it and putting her whole body weight on it, she slowly pushed it to the center of the stage, doubling back for an old ugly barstool that was made into a makeshift paino bench.

She sat down on the piano, lifted her hands dramaticly, and smashed them down on the keys. A few people in the crowd must have recognized the names because a few sparse cheers erupted. Then with an attention grabbing growl she started to sing, and Eddie had to stop himself from  crawling on stage.

You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain

Too much love drives a girl insane

You broke my will

But what a thrill

Goodness gracious, great balls of fire!

Eddie didn’t know what to do with himself. Pretty girls like that didn’t sing songs like that. Pretty girls like that didn’t sing with such conviction and passion it was scary. Pretty girls wouldn’t be so effortlessly sensual if they tried. In hawkins it was always about stolen glances, and what was left to the imagination.

I laughed at love 'coz I thought it was funny

You came along and you moved me, honey

I've changed my mind

This love is fine

Goodness gracious, great balls of fire!

She played the piano like a performer, turning to the crowd every chance she could, smiling and nodding. Giving them a show. Eddie caught her attention. In a crowd of leering men he was the youngest, thats what caught her eye. But what held it was him. Most boys his age wore polos and khakis. But he wore leather and studs, and what was that? Eyeliner.

He looked handsome, and stared at her like she wasn’t a piece of meat for sale at the market. He watched her performance like it was the last she would ever give, and savored every note, and she liked it. She liked the way he looked at her.

Kiss me, baby

Mmmmh, it feels good

Hold me, baby

Well, I'm off to love you like a lover should

Oh! You're fine, so kind

Got to tell this world that you're mine, mine, mine, mine

He managed to hold her attention, as she barley looked at the keys, just sung to the crowd. It was only then that he realized that she was loud enough to sing without it. Then before he knew it the song was over, and he couldn’t tell what he wanted more, to hear her sing again, or to talk to her after.

He waited til she returned from the stage at the bar, and sat with his cheek resting on his palm. She sauntered over to him with a wide smile.

“ What can I get you?” her voice was sweet, but with a rough edge like cinnamon.

“ You’re number,” he said shyly.

“ You don’t waste time,” she said. This wasn’t the first time she’d been asked out at this bar, but the first time she was interested. 

“ You ‘re quite the performer,” he said, “ guitar?”

“ You play?” she asked. He nodded. “ So what brings you here?”

“ I like music,” he shrugged, “ and you sing really well.”

“ Yeah, okay,” she nodded. She grabbed a pen from across the counter, and scribbled 10 digits on his forearm. “ I like handsome boys like you,” she said, “ certainly much too handsome to be here.” she smiled, then turned away to deal with other customers.

And his balls were certainly on fire.

taglist

[misty--nights]

Episode 5, here we go! This episode is a roller coaster. It has some of the funniest gags in the series, but also some of the most heartbreaking scenes. I'm surprised at how many thoughts I had about the characters with this one.

The editing of the recap has me dying! Who decided to cut from Niko asking if Edwin wanted to kiss Monty to that shot of Charles from when Edwin was enraptured by him and then back to Edwin saying "I don't know"? I gasped when I saw that. Fantastic

Charles is leaning in for a kiss when before Crystal says they need to talk. No, my boy, someone give him a hug

I said it before in episode 4, but it's wild to me that there was apparently like no real investigation done into Brad and Hunter's deaths

The envelope with Niko's letter has the same stickers as her envelope with rent from last episode. As someone who also finds every excuse to use cute stickers, I find this amazing

For all of Maxine's glaring problems, she actually makes a pretty good librarian. Love that she greets Niko by asking if she's done with her reading. Also love that apparently Niko borrows at least some of her manga from the library (we love supporting libraries in this house)

Charles looks genuinely intrigued when Niko mentions having her own case. I really wish we had gotten to see more scenes with these two because they'd make an amazing team. Just imagine the chaos and good vibes of the two of them combined

I know the eight ball is supposed to be predicting her imminent death, but the "outlook not so good" fits really well with the outlook of the date. And it shows right after she says she's feeling lucky about her case, so, I think it applies to that as well (in a way, you could say it's predicting Maxine's death in the episode? Maybe?)

When they go to the dragon's den, Brad says people don't go there anymore because they miss him and Hunter too much, which is an interesting way to put it. Like, I understand why he'd interpret it like that, given the kind of people the two of them are, but still. It didn't click until now that that is most likely not what other students think when they imagine going to the dragon's den

Edwin looks so concerned about what a hand job is. Especially after Charles reaction, I'm dying

There is a genuine record scratch after Maxine mentions the nightshirt thing. I rarely pay attention to the background music in shows and music, so this one took me by surprise. It works really well with the scene, though, I like it

I know part of the reason this case affects Charles so much is because he's trying to tell himself he's not this terrible person because of his trauma and anger. But do you also think Brad and Hunter remind him of the guys he used to hang out with when he was alive? The ones who killed him? He looks really hurt when he tells them "you were cruel just for the shits", and I think it would make sense for him to be remembering his own friends' cruelty. Towards that other boy they were kicking and that he tried to defend, and towards Charles himself when they killed him. I think maybe in that moment he's remembering the way they laughed as they hurt him, how they cheered as he froze in the lake and tried to avoid their blows

Did they put eyeliner on Charles just so that his eyes would look all smudged every time he cries? Because it's devastating seeing him like that each time. And that hopeful smile he gets right before hugging Edwin? Ugh, my heart

Also in that scene, the way Charles nuzzles against Edwin's face during the hug, I swear!! Someone needs to give this boy like a thousand hugs right now

"I could smooth everything out again." This line breaks me knowing Crystal's backstory. Can you imagine her, letting David posses her because he promised to dull out all of this rage and hurt that have festered inside of her for years? And he does, he takes all of that and the memories and everything, but she's left trapped inside of herself, unable to do anything but watch him do as he pleases with her body. I think she should also get like a thousand hugs right away

Is Monty's ring a bird skull? Because that's adorable and very on brand

[madwomansapologist]

higher than heaven | tamerlane usher

Navigation | More Tamerlane Usher | AO3

synopsis: Goldbug launch was a tremendous sucess. Of course Tamerlane knew it would be one, but it still was nice to see it being well received by the press. And the best part was that, when she got out of the stage and out of that sucessfull entrepreneur mode, Tamerlane had you waiting with open arms.

warnings: fluff. married life. fix fic. entrepreneur meets entrepreneur and fall in love. tammy will get her well deserved rest time!!!! female!reader.

The launch was expensive, but it was worth every penny. More than just self-care, Goldbug is luxury. Rarity. It is for few, and that is why it is desired by everyone. It was expensive, it will pay for itself and more.

And when everyone present felt special, felt deserving of the great wonders that only generational money and political influence could achieve, Tamerlane knew that Goldbug was a sucess. She knew that her name would never be forgotten. That her family would never be able to forget how even during a judicial hell she was the reason the name Usher was associated with something desirable.

And Tammy knew you were waiting for her.

Tamerlane presented Goldbug, she sold it, but you were the one making sure the press would say the right thing. While journalists were drinking champagne, you repeated the names of the suppliers. While influencers were distracted by the beauty of the event, you somehow convinced them to take photos in the right place and at the right time. And if the futile personalities who were invited suggested that luxury was something they were used to, you reminded them of what Goldbug really was: the perfect way to make someone green with envy.

Her model, her muse, the face of her empire under construction. Your hair, your necklace, your dress. Your perfume, your eyeline, your hells. Your brain. You. You, as whole. You were part of this. You were a reason for Goldbug to be desirable. You were perfect, just as always.

But Tammy guess she isn't impartial when it comes to you. You could have someone's blood on your face, a weapon on your hands, and she would still think of you in the same perfect. Perfect. And hers.

It was impossible to talk during the launch, even when drinks were being served for you two it was still work, but your eyes meet and she saw how proud they were of her. Smiles were hidden behind glasses. Your hand bumped into Tamerlane's elbow while you were talking to a deputy's wife. You were the one to start her standing ovation.

When the event ended, Madeline approached with a discreet smile on her face. "The articles have already started to come out." Apparently the reporters were faster than Tammy had imagined. "You did a good for the family. And so did she."

Frederick can suck that, Tamerlane thought while walking towards her car. Not only the best daughter, she also has the best wife. Those cakes can suck it too.

The security guard opened the car door, and a calm smile dominated Tamerlane's face as soon as she saw you reading something on your phone. "They're all fawning over you," you whispered as Tammy sat right next to you.

Tamerlane rested her head on the bench and didn't answer you. She just looked at you. The makeup on yoyr eyes was smudged. You rubbed them. The lipstick in the center of your lips was faded, the red getting lost with each sip from the various glasses that passed through your hand. Your bun was falling, and your hairpins were showing.

Perfect.

The car accelerated, and Tamerlane took a deep breath. She let the air inside her lungs change, peace dominate her body. Instead of putting on her belt, Tamerlane laid her head on your lap.

"You were amazing on the stage. I could never," you whispered. Even if the driver had better things to do than pay attention to your conversation, you still prefer to make it as intimate as you can. Your fingers caressed her hair, nails lightly scratching her scalp. "Green really is your color."

Tamerlane chuckle. "I don't think there is something you can't do, my other half." Tammy closed her eyes, your fingers giving her goosebumps. She squeezed your knee, tugging at the thin fabric of your dress. "Green?"

"Yes, my other half" Tammy could almost hear your smile as you mirrored her. "Green."

Tammy didn't even notice she fell asleep. She just felt the car stop, the engine going silent. She still felt your fingers sliding against her scalp. "Wake up, sleepyhead." You didn't stop caressing her. "Bed is more comfortable."

That made her get out of the car.

Maybe it was childish and irresponsible, but you didn't shower before bed. Tammy threw her heels away, you stood in front of one of the bedroom's mirror struggling to get rid of the hairpins. She walked over to you, and wrapped her arms around your waist. "In need of help, pretty lady?"

"Call me a damnsel in distress," you held her hands. Tamerlane smelled like strawberry. Not like something made to smell like strawberry, but just like the fruit. It was so great you could sleep against her.

You had to let go for Tammy to help you, and you missed her even with her behind you. "After all that," you started. "When Goldbug is stable and the trials end..."

Tammy put the hairpins on the dressing table. "That's okay. I don't wanna talk about it, but I know it's happening. Just go on."

It was your time to help her. You unzip the green dress, and handed Tammy her nightgown. "When it's done, we could go on a vacation. Just the two of us."

She pulled the sheets off the bed and lay down. You turned off the lights and changed into your pajamas in the dark. "Where?" Tammy turned on the lamp. "Where we didn't went yet?"

You lay down, pulled the blanket over yourself, and turned to face her. Tammy snuggled closer to you, her cold feet touching yours. "Greece."

"Greece it is", Tammy kissed your lips lightly. "You reread Percy Jackson, didn't you?"

You laughed against her lips. "You know me so well."

"Of course I do," you felt her smile growing. None of you could move away. None of you wanted that. "Do you think for even a second that I could think about anything that isn't you?"

"Oh, shit." You rubbed your nose against hers. "Tamerlane, do you have a crush on me?"

"Fuck you," was the last thing she told you before sleeping on your arms.

It was a amazing night. Perfect, Tamerlane would say.

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

[loriahlikeswriting]

Hi! I recently started writing fanfic again. With Hazbin Hotel finally getting a season I was really inspired to dabble into writing something pertaining to Angel Dust, and so I really got hooked on the idea of a human alternate universe taking place in modern times following not only Angel’s struggles but Alastor’s as well! It’s really just a character analysis and me trying to write different characters (one being kinda loony) but regardless I put a lot of effort into each chapter and would love to get feedback! ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

I’ve also drawn some pictures of all the characters here and will post some art I have made pertaining to this fic.

I’ll attach a link to ao3 story after the summary and snippet of the first chapter <3 thank you so much for taking your time to read this post and I hope you enjoy!

Am I Making You Feel Sick?

TW: abuse and violence, disordered eating, death, abuse of a minor, SA

Summary:

Anthony Di'Angelo wasn't always like this, he had dreams like any other kid. Yet here he was at the ripe age of twenty, a crack whore with a shitty ass pimp and an even shittier means of living. As far as anyone was concerned this life would consume him and leave him to rot on the streets like many of those before him. His decline is ever apparent, especially to his next door neighbor who just happens to be a novelist from New Orleans who after many successes has begun to lose his spark. A wannabe lyricist who is damned to live life as a whore stuck in poverty and a twisted writer aren't quite a match made in Heaven but maybe the heavens weren't meant for them anyway.

Chapter 1 Snippet 🫶

Anthony’s life wasn’t really one worth living if he was being honest. He had a lousy apartment, lousy job, lousy friends, lousy attitude- he himself was simply lousy. Recognizing just how miserable he was did little to change anything, though, so he kept going with some weird faith that things may somehow, some way get better. Between being disowned by his family only to be taken in by a pimp disguised as a lover he wasn’t sure what else could possibly go astray.

He’d lost another ten pounds, which meant another size or two down, and another shopping spree which would soon enough result in spending funds he really didn't have right now. Maybe he shoulda picked up sewing like Molly- that perfect little angel- just so he wouldn’t have to waste time getting shit retailored. Staring at what became of himself in the mirror was fucking trippy. What stared back at him were large muted blue eyes smudged by smeared eyeliner and mascara, sunken in freckled cheeks, pale skin which was once sunkissed now tainted by bruises, a thin frame no longer toned and instead starved. Mobster to crack whore- what kinda transformation was that? A laughable one. Damn, if only Pa could see him now. Naw, Anthony didn’t wanna imagine it if he was being real honest.

Pulling off the slightly loose sticky latex one piece, the blonde reached over into his dresser for a tattered old tee he managed to convince Val to let him keep. He had to let Valentino know if he could wipe his ass for fuck's sake, God forbid he had a shirt the man didn't fuck with. Sliding on the shirt and some boxers which loosely fit his frame, Anthony quickly flung himself into bed. His mattress was stiff and his blankets were thin, but at least he managed to get a place to call his own. Moving out of Valentino’s was such a step forward- no more nightly beatings, no more degrading insults outside of work, no more being used and abused whenever wherever. Sure, he dealt with allat on the clock but the minute his shift ended he had somewhere to return to that was his own. He hadn’t had something to call his own in a long fucking time.

Staring up at his ceiling, Anthony couldn’t help but toss and turn, his head pounding and begging for attention. The boy was a mouthy one, and mouthy ones get put in their place real quick. Today was extra humbling for the blonde, his eye was puffed up and colored purple, a testament to his treatment. It wasn’t just his eye, he’d gotten a full body beat down today, but that meant he could stay out of work for a day or two til they gradually lost their color. Two days of lazing about? Fuck yes. He could really use the break.

Huffing, the thin blonde shoved his blanket aside as he stumbled onto his feet. Grabbing his lighter and a pack he kept ready at his night stand, Anthony made his way to his small balcony. The crisp air burned the blonde’s nostrils, a sensation he'd learned to adore as time went on. Shivering, he made his way over to the iron rails. He was hardly dressed, but that was something he was used to. Shutting his eyes, the blonde let himself feel the night’s frigidity, wanting to succumb to the numbness which would eventually overtake his limbs.

Lighting his cig, the boy scanned the night sky for some type of reassurance when the cold hadn’t done its job. Disappointed, the blonde knew the stars couldn’t give him any answers no matter how much he bothered them. So he pressed his lit cigarette to his lips, breathing in a burn which would warm his rotting core. The first huff wasn’t satisfying, nor was the second. Anthony was used to more nasty shit, nic did little to ease his mind. Well, it did help with the headaches, but the dancer was itching for something stronger tonight. Flashes of his last client wormed its way into his skull and Anthony could feel his shoulders tighten in anger and resentment. Clenching his jaw, the blonde rubbed at his eyes aggressively wincing in pain once he was reminded of the bruise that bitch left behind. That motherfucker was extra sleazy on the floor and in private, and he was a recurring patron. Lucky him, huh?

Frustrated, the man put forth all his weight onto the railing, letting his forehead rest against the cold metal, hoping some contact would relieve the pressure. Rubbing his forehead against the bar, Anthony felt his eyes burn familiarly. A pain settled in his throat, an achy pain that continued to increase in strength. His face burned in shame as he felt himself begin to sniffle. Ah God, he hated these types of nights. Everything was just too fucking much and he was just so tired and in so much pain. Whiny bitch he was, but at least he was a whiny bitch by his lonesome.

“God, I can't do this shit sober.” The blonde huffed, as he finished up his cigarette. Putting out the cigarette onto a used up ashtray, Anthony pushed himself off the railing. He just got through his last bottle of booze and he was aching for more. What? Cheap shit was all he could afford when he was away from Val. Matter of fact, Tony came to crave that shit simply because it signified he wasn't anywhere near that fucking cunt. He promised himself he wouldn’t spend any more pocket change on shit that was bad for him, but that obviously wasn’t going great. Nothing was ever going great, so drink til he got crunked was what he was gonna do. Slipping on some fuzzy light pink slippers and grabbing a coat, Anthony wrapped himself up real tight. Rummaging through his nightstand did he find his house key, some change, and his ID. Aw fuck, he had to get that shit updated. Staring back at him was his wide eyed seventeen year old self. If only he knew there wasn't anything in life to look that excited for. Smiling slightly at the picture of himself, Anthony shoved all that shit into his right pocket, shaking any longing that started to yank at his heart strings. He'd cry after he got fucked up.

Shutting his door and quickly locking up, the lithe dancer shoved his shaking hands into his pockets. His apartment complex was nice, not necessarily cozy but livable. Making his way down the stairs Anthony lost himself in thought. Nights like this he reminisced on back to when he didn’t rely on substances to feel warm, before he was labeled a deadman by his father, before his mother died. He thought back to sibling banter, Sundays post church, elementary school playgrounds. The blonde could feel himself getting choked up again, but he couldn’t stop himself from spiraling. If the man was being honest, dysthymia was such a comfort. Being sad was all Anthony knew how to do properly, and that in itself reassured him. The tightness of muscles when he was on the brink of a meltdown felt akin to the ghost of a hug, something the man was desperate for. Funny thing was, he got hugs all the time- none of them were fucking genuine though.

Making his way down the staircase, the boy felt a bit of his mind dwindle with every step. His mind was going numb, instead he focused on his breathing and the way his bones felt like they were being suffocated under his skin. He focused on the way his hips ached, and his eye burned, barely able to keep itself open because of how swollen it'd grown to be. He could feel every spot that man touched him, like his finger tips were pressed so deeply into his skin they left a mark not just on skin, nor fat, nor muscle, but on his fucking nerves. He could see the way the man looked at him in a disgusting lustful haze, and how he had to pretend he liked every second of getting his ass handed to him. He saw himself, and he saw himself drowning deeper into the pit he had created for himself the second he got disowned. He could feel just how much it hurt to breathe, so Anthony forced himself to gasp heavily like a fish out of water. The sting was nice, he wished that was all he could feel for forever. His body on autopilot, the dancer was met with a light which dimly lit up the corner store before he knew it. Cheap liquor? Not his favorite, but it did the trick. It made his brain fill with static. And static was all he wanted to hear and see for the rest of his shitty life.

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Three

A wall of heat hits our faces as Marnie and I shuffle into a cocktail bar that evening. It’s a hopping, trendy place right in the centre of town, and even though it’s Tuesday night it’s full. It’s one of those places that will set you back nearly fifteen euro for some obscure, designer cocktail called Foxy Kitten Vodka Tonic, and other such names that are so humiliating to say out loud that you end up getting flustered and ordering rum and coke instead.

We leave our jackets in the cloak room, and I strip down to my skimpy dress, worn with no tights in icy cold weather like true red blooded Irish girls do. Marnie didn’t dress up though, she’s too cool. She’s wearing the same mesh top and black runners she was in earlier, but I could never go to a bar casually. It’s just not what small town girls do, and Claire would have never allowed me to leave our apartment in any other state. My feet already hurt in my five inch heels after walking the ten minutes from the bus stop,  but I don’t dare complain. I just slide into a booth and start looking at the drinks menu, slipping out of them and uncurling my cramped feet on the cool tile floor underneath the table while trying not to outwardly shudder with relief. 

“Wine as usual, is it, Evie, or will we try to seize the spirit of the night and be adventurous?” Marnie’s got her nose in the menu, and I can barely hear what she’s saying over the thumping remix of some Katy Perry song.

“I think it will have to be the wine.” I reply, my head spinning at the prices. You know you’re in the wrong bar when a cocktail costs half of your weekly food budget. 

“Oh boring. Have a Sloe Comfortable Screw Up Against a Wall or something. Come on, you and I are out on the pull, let’s get ourselves loosened up a bit.”

“I’m not ordering a cocktail called that.” 

“I’ll order it for you if you don’t want to say it.” She points out the ingredients to me. “It looks so yum.” She flips through the menu with a concentrated face. “What do you reckon has the most possible alcohol in it? I feel like I need to get absolutely plastered so I can get through an evening in this bar. The vibes are absolutely rancid.”

“We can go if you want.” I say hopefully, picturing an evening curled up in my bed with a hot water bottle. 

“Stop. We’re not leaving. Now which cocktail will it be?” 

I’m still insisting on the Pinot Grigio when a group of NCAD students join us and start sliding into our booth with us. Marnie wanted us to have a group night, because apparently just having two of us alone would have been sad, and because she’s an extrovert she’s not very good at coping unless she’s surrounded by as many different people as possible. 

“Oh, sorry.” One girl says as she clambers over me, her elbow colliding with my forehead, and I smile and pretend that it’s fine. They’re all talking now, the cacophonous sound of at least twelve art students with interesting haircuts filling up my stratosphere. I reach underneath the table to put my shoes back on again, and when I glance down at my little satin dress and strappy heels, I’m struck by how completely out of place I look among everyone else. Apparently I should have worn jeans, flat shoes, edgier makeup, but this is just another case of me missing out on the memo. No matter what I do, no matter where I am I can never seem to get things right. At school I was never dressed up enough, my attempts were always misguided and awkward, and now that I’ve figured that out, I’ve found dresses that hug my body in the right places, shoes that make my legs look impossibly long, the rules have changed again. I excuse myself and wriggle out of the booth. I don’t need to use the bathroom but I want to go and stare at myself agitatedly in the mirror. Maybe I can run a little more kohl around my eyes, smudge it out, muss up my hair a bit so that I look a little more Alexa Chung. 

I shove through the doors and plant myself in front of the sinks, then pull my blunt eyeliner pencil from my little handbag and start raking it along my waterline. With my little finger I rub it in, making sure to get it onto the bottom lids so that it looks like I literally woke up like this. I was partying so hard, I just passed out somewhere and now I’m here again, in another bar. I’m just beginning to back comb the sleek, straightness out of my hair with my fingers when someone comes out of one of the cubicles. I don’t pay her any attention until she’s washing her hands next to me, and that’s when I recognise her. Kind of. From somewhere, only I can’t place her small, delicate features. She sniffs gently and rubs her hand under her nose, and then briefly meets my eyes in the mirror. She doesn’t recognise me either, her gaze just slides away. 

I’m just about to let it go when someone speaks from behind me. 

“Evie?”

I whirl around, and it’s Jen. I look at her, then look at the other girl, flooded with recognition. I do know her from somewhere. Michelle. The famous Michelle who I agonised over for weeks, zooming in on photographs of her pretty face, letting her tear down and completely destroy all semblances of my self-esteem without needing to ever say a word to each other. How could I forget?

“Oh my God. Hi Jen.” I say with surprise. She looks different now. Gone is the bright red cropped hair that she had before, now it’s chin length and straight, jet black with her roots and ends dyed bright, lurid magenta. She comes up to me for a hug, and I notice that she looks a little ashen faced, hands trembling slightly, but her hug is warm and familiar and somehow manages to transport me to a different time and place for a fleeting moment.

“You got extremely hot.” She comments and she stands back. “Wow, look at you.”

“Oh, stop.” I say shyly. “I feel so overdone.”

“That’s just what first years do.” She reassures me. “Spend enough nights out on the streets at two in the morning trying to flag down a taxi, and you’ll change your tune pretty quickly.” She peers down at my shoes. “I personally wouldn’t have fun trying to hike home in those.”

“They’re painful.” I admit, and I lean back against the sink unit to take the weight off them. 

“So what’s your story now? It’s been absolute ages since I’ve seen you. Where are you living?”

“Fitzwilliam Square.” I say, and then cringe in anticipation of her reaction. She boggles her eyes and makes an astonished face, just like everybody else who hears. 

“That’s so fancy, oh my god. What’s the rent on that?”

“Three hundred.” I say, hoping the conversation will move on quickly so I don’t have to get into the whole thing about it. It’s Claire’s dad’s property, and it’s not the whole building, it’s just the top two floors. There was a couple living there before we moved in, and when he evicted them for vague reasons both he and Claire acted like that was a totally normal thing to do, so I went along with it. I usually like to leave all that out now that I’ve learned that unlawful eviction is not okay, actually, and that for most people in this city, the term “Landlord” is synonymous with the words “Filthy, Diseased Bin Rat.” Happily though, Jen just muses about how cheap that sounds, and then moves on. 

“And did you get into art college in the end?”

“I did! I’m in NCAD.”

“Oh, sick. Same as Michelle.”

I turn to the other girl, who’s waiting patiently for Jen to wrap up, smiling blandly at me while she dries her hands with toilet roll, since none of the hand dryers are ever working in these places. 

“Shell.” Jen prompts. “Do you remember Evie?”

“I don’t.” She says in her soft, feminine voice. “Sorry, have we met before?”

“Kind of.” I shrug, wishing to avoid getting into the where and whens of our last encounter. “It was ages ago though, don’t worry.”

“She was at Jude’s going away party.” Jen informs her, and I have to turn away from her, his name like a blade in my gut. I have to resist the urge to wince. I start messing with my hair in the mirror again. 

“That was literal years ago.” I say tightly. “No worries if you can’t remember me. I can’t really remember you either.”

“I’m sorry, I actually don’t.” Michelle says. “That’s probably really bad, but thinking back, like, there were loads of people there, and like you said it was ages ago.”

“No worries.” I repeat. 

“So you’re a friend of his?”

“Not really.”

“You were.” Jen says defensively, then to Michelle: “She was. They were close that summer.”

“I knew him for a few months, and now I don’t know him anymore.” I say brusquely. For some reason my hands are shaking as I try to stuff my makeup back into my bag, and my spine feels like it’s made from steel cable. 

“I didn’t know you fell out.” Jen says with a frown. “Did something happen?”

“Nothing happened, he just obviously wasn’t bothered about me, so…”

“He never mentioned that to me.”

I sigh loudly. Of course he didn’t. I’m sure he never talked about me at all, not even once. ‘Well,” I say shakily. “It’s better that we don’t talk anymore, I’ve been too busy, and like I said, we hardly knew each other, so actually, it’d be weird if we stayed in touch. We both have other priorities.”

“You know he used to be my boyfriend.” Michelle tells me, I don’t look at her, but I can see her leaning into the sink in my periphery, watching me as I drop my eyeliner pencil and let it roll into the basin. “I know how he is. Or was. He was so immature, and I don’t think he really cared about anybody but himself, so like, if he was a dickhead to you or hurt your feelings-”

“Nah we weren’t that close.” I insist. “We just hung out sometimes and then he moved away, it was nothing.”

“Oh.” She watches me attempt to zip up my bag with increasing frenzy, and I know that she doesn’t believe me. 

“Anyway.” I say, flinging it over my shoulder. “So nice to see you both again, but I’m going to go back to my friends.” I flounce out of the bathroom, but instead of turning right and going back to the bar, I swing left and head out to the smoking area, pushing through the doors into the freezing air, which flings shards of ice at my face and my bare arms and legs. I want some air, but actually, the air out there is the furthest thing from fresh. I stand there shivering, looking into the faces of all of the people out there with me, trying to deduct which one has the least threatening aura, and would be most likely to let me bum a cigarette just so I can do something with my trembling hands. 

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[crimeronan]

what. what the hell is going on with that OC soulmate relationship

#diversity win the antag wants to ruin her soulmate's life thru a forced bond whether theyre a miserable cis man or miserable transfem dyke

imagine you walk into a high-class party filled with glamorous political powerhouses who are all doing glamorous political powerhouse things. there's like a Nauseating amount of finery on display. this is clearly a place where people own things for the sake of Having Things that other people Can't Have. sweet jesus the capitalism. it oozes. eaugh

the hostess of this party is a glowingly beautiful woman with long, beachy blonde hair and an incredibly friendly smile. she greets you by name and compliments your earrings or your bracelets or some other specific aspect of your outfit that you felt kinda unsure about. she looks genuinely thrilled that you showed up, like she was waiting for you, even though that makes no fucking sense because there are a million people here and they're a lot more important than you are.

about an hour into schmoozing and socializing and such, or whatever tf you're doing here, you catch the hostess sitting in the corner of one of these shitty opulent rooms with a woman who looks like she just crawled out of the grave. not like a servant, any serving staff around here are DEFINITELY better dressed than this. this chick is wearing a tank top at Best and her face is smeared with enough badly-smudged eyeliner to look like a 2008 scene kid who got hit by a truck. she looks like either she hasn't slept in three straight days or she did like 72 drugs that aren't agreeing with her.

the hostess notices you watching them, waves you over, and happily introduces the other woman as her wife. the goth scene emo disaster lady looks you dead in the face and says, "i am going to kill myself." and then expands upon the sentiment. with a very long, very detailed, very gruesome plan. there is zero humor in it.

you do not know what to do with this.

the hostess, totally unperturbed, pats her wife's hand. she assures you that that's just her sense of humor. spouses are quirky like that!

the emo bitch does not blink. or smile. she appears to be trying to explode you with her mind.

you voice some kind of sentiment about how sometimes it's healthier NOT to make constant suicide jokes, or whatever, and instead to redirect your focus, or whatever, and try to come up with a different means of mental coping. because making suicide jokes just reinforces the urge, or whatever. who cares. you're not a mental health professional

the emo bitch responds to this by saying, "i am going to actually kill myself," and then expands with a fresh new overly-detailed plan. it is completely different from and somehow more gruesome than the first one. if you're not nauseous by the end of it then you have nerves of steel.

the hostess betrays only the smallest hint of annoyance and tells her wife to stop being so fucking rude. then, because you still look Deeply Concerned About Whatever The Hell Is Happening Here, she grins and informs you that everything's A-okay. the only reason she'd ever worry is if her wife Stopped making suicide threats <3

why, you ask.

she laughs. this is extremely funny to her. the emo bitch has yet to blink but apparently that's fine too.

"because then," the hostess tells you, "she might actually do it."