#sorry this shit STILL gets me on my nerves it’s ridiculous

[crayonverse]

It does still boggle my mind that they undid Ein and Aphmau being siblings in mystreet with an SMP video (something entirely not related to mystreet???) to do weird shipbait for a ship I’m pretty sure a majority of the fandom dislikes when they could do romantic rival stuff for Aphmau with. Literally any other character. Like Zane. Which they already do. And that Ein and aphmaus dynamic in SMP videos is way better (and tends to be more funny) when they ARENT doing shipbait like. How do you fuck up a dynamic by trying to make it “less weird” by just making it more boring and one note

[bilbosmom-belladonna]

Whoops, my hand slipped and I wrote another Steddie ficlet! Also posted on AO3.

The Best Defense

“Hey, freak!”

Eddie froze, the bag of groceries clutched in his hands. Steve's head popped up from where he was putting the other bag in the trunk.

Andy Johnson was headed their way, a look on his face that made Eddie's eyes go wide.

“You got some nerve showing your face around here, freak!” Andy shouted as he approached, pointing a menacing finger.

Steve calmly plucked the bag from Eddie's nerveless fingers, dropped it in the trunk, and smoothly stepped between him and Andy.

“Back off, Johnson,” Steve said, his chin held high.

“You think I'm scared of you, Harrington?” Andy scoffed. “You ain't shit, pretty boy. Daddy's money can't protect you here.”

He glanced over his shoulder, where Eddie could see a group of varsity jackets starting to move closer. Eddie shrank back a little, wishing he could be anywhere else.

Steve cocked his head to the side, just watching for a minute as Andy puffed. Then he reached into the trunk, pulled out his nailbat, and slung it casually against his shoulder.

“Don't think I'll use Daddy's money,” Steve said with a shrug. He dropped the bat into his other hand and twirled it. “Think I'll use this instead.”

Andy blanched. His eyes nervously darted between the bat and Steve. Eddie could see there was still a little bit of dried monster blood on the nails.

For once in his life, Andy did the smart thing. He started backing away, huffing like Steve was the one being ridiculous, but guys like that always want to get the last word.

“Yeah, well, you better keep an eye on your rat-faced little boyfriend, Harrington,” he threatened. “You can't defend him forever.” He backed up a few more steps before he quickly returned to his friends.

Steve turned and looked at Eddie, an affronted look on his face. “Can you believe that guy?”

Eddie winced. “Hey, man, thanks,” he said weakly. “I'm sorry about that.”

“Nah, forget him,” Steve said as he closed the trunk, the nailbat still in one hand. He shook his head. “I just don't get why he would say something like that about you.”

Eddie grimaced, all too aware of the (entirely true) rumors about his sexuality. He didn't want something like that coming down on Steve; he was a good guy, he didn't deserve to get any more tangled up in Eddie's mess than he already was.

“I mean, what the hell was that about?” Steve continued indignantly. “You are not rat-faced.” He scoffed.

Eddie blinked for a minute. “You—” he licked his lips. “What—Steve, what about the other—”

Steve opened his door and sat down.

“I—he called me your—” Eddie stammered. He stood stupidly by the trunk, shoes stuck to the pavement.

Steve closed his door and beeped the horn.

“What—”

“Get in, Munson!” Steve called, leaning out the window with a grin. “The ice cream’s gonna melt.”

Eddie got in. He looked nervously at Steve and licked his lips again.

“Seatbelt,” Steve prompted as he checked his mirrors. He turned to face Eddie as soon as his seatbelt was buckled. Eddie looked back at him

“We'll drop this stuff off with Wayne,” Steve said, “and then I'm taking you out to dinner. My treat.” He reached out and ran his thumb over Eddie's cheek, then turned back to start the car. “Rat-faced,” he muttered disdainfully under his breath as they pulled out of the parking lot.

If you held a gun to his head later, Eddie would never be able to tell you a single thing about the rest of that drive.

[msgexymunson]

Dr E. Munson, D.D.S

Description: praise from your dentist is the last thing you thought would stoke your passions. During another meeting, intoxicated after surgery, you accidently tell him how he makes you feel. 

Warnings: Fluff, angst and smut, my favourite trio. NSFW Minors DNI, reader mid 20s and Eddie mid to late 30s but not explicitly stated, no real time given implied 90s but written as open, reader is AFAB, no use of Y/N, tooth extraction (don’t worry it's not gory), little to no knowledge of the dental industry (please don't come for me I tried my best), fem oral receiving, overstimulation, massive praise kink, p in v protected sex.

A/N: Well, the tale of my praise kink being activated at the dentist appears to have struck a chord with you all, so as unbelievable as this is, just go with it. Eddie's a dentist. Not just a dentist, but a soft pleasure dom dentist ;) I tried to make it believable!! Also, I can't write short fics anymore. I gotta get elaborate before I get into the good ole porn. 

🖤 Comments and reblogs are my lifeblood, please reblog if you want me to keep writing, it really makes my day sweethearts. 🖤

8.8K words

Masterlist

Fidgeting restlessly with your rings, your leg shakes compulsively as you sit in the sterile waiting room. You really wish you didn't have to go through this alone, but your best friend Alex is working and you are far too old to be going to the dentist with your mom. 

Needs must, though. Yesterday, whilst you were eating one of your nieces candy suckers of all things, you bit down and shattered a wisdom tooth. Just thinking about it you can see Dr Burke's stern face, with his ridiculously bushy eyebrows and wrinkled frown, telling you off for eating too much sugar. 

When the perky receptionist calls your name and instructs you to go to room 2, you're a wobbling bubble of nerves. Walking over the cheap linoleum on click clack heels, you pause for a moment outside the door in confusion. 

The little plaque on the wooden door is different. It used to hold old Dr Burke's name on it, but it's changed. 

Dr E. Munson, D.D.S.

Swinging the door open, you see a much younger man sitting on a swivel stool looking over some notes. His hair is long and wavy, so long he's scraped it into a low ponytail, and there's a sprinkle of stubble over his face. As he looks up, you're met with the deepest, most soulful brown eyes you've ever seen. And is that, an eyebrow piercing? He flashes a grin, one filled with such mischief that for a second you forget why you're here. 

“Well hello! You must be my next patient. Take a seat right here.” 

He pats the treatment chair but you still stand gormlessly by the door. 

“You're not Dr Burke.”

Well done idiot, state the obvious.

“Seems your eyesights OK.” 

He shoots a wink at you which immediately turns your insides to jello. 

“Dr Burke retired actually. I'm Dr Munson, I just moved to the city. You can call me Eddie.” 

He extends a hand out to you. Shuffling forward in your pencil skirt you click your way over to him and take his hand. It's huge, enveloping your own, but he holds your hand with care and shakes it very gently. 

He lets go to wash his hands and put a pair of latex gloves on. 

“You know you don't have to dress up to go to the dentist, but it's appreciated.” 

Is he flirting with me? 

“I-I was at work this morning.” 

You perch on the seat and pull your legs up, sliding your handbag to the floor. 

“So, what seems to be the problem?” 

“I was, well…” 

“It's OK sweetheart, I ain't gonna tell you off.” 

Sweetheart? Oh Holy Shit. 

You found yourself clenching your toes in your heels. This guy is far too hot to be a dentist.

“I was eating a sucker and I, well, I bit down, broke my back right wisdom tooth. It shattered.”

He scoots his stool towards you and instructs you to open your mouth. As he examines you he hums, feeling inside your mouth with a gloved hand. 

“Yup, that's broken up alright. I'm sorry, that must be painful. Don't worry, I'll do my best to help. I'm gonna do an x-ray, that OK?” 

“Yeah.” 

Pulling a little plastic T instrument from his desk, he wheels back over.

“Now, this is going to be uncomfortable, and I'm real sorry. Open your mouth and I'll slide it in gently.” 

Face flickering a violent shade of red, you nod. Surely he's aware of how this sounds?

“OK, open wide, that's it.” 

He puts the little contraption in your mouth.

“OK, now bite down. I know, it's uncomfortable. It'll just take a second. That's it, just breathe for me.” 

It's not intolerable but it's not exactly nice. A moment before it would have been too much he takes it out. 

“That's it, did so good for me. Well done sweetheart.” 

Now, this is not the fucking time to have these sorts of feelings. A heat had started  spreading between your legs that you haven't felt for quite some time. 

“Hmm,” Eddie said as he looked at the x-ray, “I definitely need to remove those pieces. I'm a bit concerned about the tooth above it. That's got a cavity, it'll need to be removed, but it'll need surgery I'm sorry to say.” 

“Surgery? Oh God.” 

“Hey, it'll be alright. I'd do it now but it's too risky. Never had to go into surgery before?” 

Laughing nervously, you fiddle with your fingers. 

“I've never had a tooth removed! I'm a tooth removal virgin.” 

The words just flew out and there was nothing you could do to pull them back. Eddie leaned in a little, a cheeky glint in his eye. 

“Well, then I'll be extra gentle.” 

A stare that's a fraction too long, and he scoots back over to his desk. Not long after he's got a needle in his hand.

“Now, I'm gonna need to numb the area, and this is going to be painful. But once this is done, that's the worst of it. If you need me to stop at any point, you just raise your hand. That OK?” 

“Sure, do what you need to.”

“Atta girl, so brave for me. Open your mouth wide.” 

My good God this man and his words; you can picture yourself on your knees in front of him as he says the same things.

Atta girl, take it a little deeper, that's it, so good for me… 

Squirming hotly in your seat, you do as instructed and his gloved fingers invade your mouth once more. 

“OK, you're gonna feel a sharp scratch, it'll go on for a few seconds, doing it now… good girl.” 

As he says ‘good girl’ two things happen. He injects your gum, and you flood your panties. The pain is inconsequential at this point, you just want him to keep talking to you like that.

“OK, one more sweetheart… that's it, so brave, look at you, taking it so well.” 

He stares at you with those soft brown eyes and once again you forget entirely why you're here. 

“Now, you should start to feel your lips tingle, it'll mean it's working.” 

Your dirty mind can't help but think; which lips? 

As a numbness invades your mouth, you let him know. 

“Yeah, it's definitely working.”

“Good stuff. Now, I'm gonna feel in your mouth again, OK?”

You nod, beyond words, and he puts his fingers in your mouth. 

“Now, if you need me to stop, what do you do?” 

Sheepishly you hold your hand up.

“That's it, atta girl. Such a good listener.” 

Nothing you can do but beam inwardly at the praise.

“Now, you can feel me right here, but there should be no pain, yeah?” 

Resisting the urge to moan around his fingers, you make a sound akin to a muffled ‘uhuh’.

“Awesome, now just hold still, you'll hear some crunching and feel pressure, and then it'll be done.” 

As he pulls a shiny implement from a tray and starts working the tooth shards from your mouth, you focus on his forehead, at the look of total concentration. How the lines on his forehead furrow. How his beautiful eyes harden slightly. How his perfect pink tongue dips out… 

“All done.” 

“Huh?” 

He laughs, a rich, bubbling thing, and nods.

“Yup. You're good. Need to make an appointment at the desk for the other tooth though.”

“Will you be doing that?” 

It rushes out in a blather which you can't control. 

“Sure thing sweetheart. Just ask at the desk for me.” 

“OK. Thanks.” 

“Not a problem. Got to be there for my favourite patient.” 

He flashes another wink at you which seems to rush straight to your knees as you get up and leave on newborn foal legs. Reaching the door, you hear his voice ring out behind you. 

“And what should we do with suckers next time?” 

Turning to face him, he raises an eyebrow, awaiting your response with the most serious expression he's given you so far. 

“I should… suck?” 

“Yeah you should.” 

A mind altering grin later and he's turning back to his desk. 

I should suck? What the hell is wrong with you! You need to get laid like, yesterday.

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

It's a couple of weeks later and you're laying in the most unflattering hospital gown known to man with your best friend Alex who is trying to distract you. 

“Honey, you'll be fine, they're putting you under! It's like, free drugs!” 

You laugh at his antics, smiling with nerves. 

“It's not the surgery, its-” 

You hear mumbling in the doorway, two nurses gossiping in what they must think is out of earshot. 

“Did you hear? Dr Munsons performing the surgery?” 

“Yeah, he's not even supposed to be here. I hear Dr Stevens is pissed.” 

As they walk away, continuing their whispering, you look over to Alex who is smirking at you. 

“Oh, so he's not even supposed to be here? Ooh he likes you!” 

You blush, thinking about the other day. 

“No! I… I asked for him, that's all. You know I don't like this sort of shit.”

“Ah, so you thought Dr Dreamy would make it bearable huh?” 

“Shut up!” 

Dr Munson walks in then, smiling that smile that held a firm grip on your panties. Alex's eyes widen as he mouths the word ‘hot’ to you. You subtly nod your agreement and then smile at Eddie.

“Well, fancy seeing you here.” 

“Couldn't stay away,” you respond, rolling your eyes. He chuckles back and looks you up and down. 

“I told you sweetheart, no need to get dressed up for me.” 

“What, this old thing?”

You share a laugh whilst Alex's eyebrows raise practically through the roof. This is clearly crossing some line, this banter between you, but he's the doctor and he started it. 

Soon, the procedure has been explained and they're wheeling you out of there and putting you under anaesthesia. 

“OK, good job, such a brave girl. Now, countdown from ten for me.”

“Ten, nine, eight…” 

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

Blinking bleary-eyed, you look around and catch the eye of your friend. 

“She's awake! You OK?” 

You are OK. In fact, you're fantastic. 

“I'm great! M'I goin’ in surgery now?” 

“You've been, it's done! It's all fine.”

“Huh?” 

A fantastically handsome man walks in, entirely distracting you. Long hair, sparkling eyes, a gorgeous smile, and a slender tall frame. He's so hot. Wait, you can just say he's hot, right? 

“Wow, wh'ryou? You're suuuper hot.” 

He laughs, looking a little embarrassed. 

“I'm Dr Munson, remember? Eddie. The er, drugs will wear off soon.” 

“Eddie!” 

You sit up immediately, despite the hands that shoot out to keep you still. 

“Now, take it easy, the ketamine makes people act a little funny. How are you feeling?”

“M’great! All… floaty like. S’good shit.” 

Eddie laughs as Alex holds his head in his hands. 

“Good to hear. It'll wear off soon, I'm sure your boyfriend will take good care of you.” 

“Nooo he's n’my’boyfrien’. He's suuuper gay. Ya’single? I no’had- not had any for nine months!” 

Alex pipes up. 

“Honey, you know I love you, so much, but you need to shut your mouth.” 

Eddie laughs, flashing his perfect teeth. 

“He's got a point. Glad you're doing good, the surgery went smoothly, so you'll be good to go in a few minutes.”

“Thank's'much Eddie. God, you're s’gorgeous. Did I do good?” 

Eddie looks like he wants to be anywhere but here. 

“Course you did. The best. That's why you're my favourite patient.”

Holding your hand up to your mouth and doing the worst stage whisper known to man, you look at Alex. 

“See? Tol’ ya, his wors’ make me wet.” 

“...aaaand that's the line. Thanks for taking care of her Dr Munson, I'll get her home safe.” 

With protests from you, Eddie shuffles awkwardly out of the room. After a little while you're discharged, with Alex promising to look after you until you're back to normal.

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

The strong coffee aroma assaults your nostrils; you take a massive inhale of your cup as if the caffeine could be absorbed by smell alone. The coffee shop was busy this Saturday morning but you'd managed to carve out your little comfy seat and tiny table so you can work on your writing. It was a relief after the busy week you've had to actually focus on something you love. 

The noises and chatter of the place wash over you as you zone out, thinking of how to handle the plot twist coming up. It needed to be thoughtful, but unforced, as if the characters… 

“Well, if it isn't my favourite patient.” 

“Huh?” 

You look up and see a very familiar pair of eyes. Eddie. The rest of him however, looks very different. 

Eddie's in an old Iron Maiden t-shirt, worn with age, and tight black jeans. A chain hangs low at his hip, and his large hands are adorned with silver rings. His hair is loose and unkept around his shoulders, but his signature smile still beams at you. His forearms are on display, covered in tattoos. It's certainly not what you were expecting. How did he just get even hotter? 

Remembering what Alex told you about how you made an utter fool of yourself brings you out of your revelry. The stuff you said to him after surgery makes you visibly cringe. You were torn between wanting to ask him out and wanting the ground to swallow you whole. 

Cheeks blazing with heat, you find your voice.

“Eddie! Er, hi.” 

“You mind if I sit here? It's pretty packed.”

Gesturing at him to make himself comfortable, he swings his leg over the stool opposite and sits down, mug of steaming coffee in his hands. 

“What brings you here?” 

“Well, I write. As a hobby, you know? Needed to get out of the house and get some done. And you?” 

He points a thick finger across the street and you gulp in your throat, remembering the feel of those fingers in your mouth. 

“There's a record store across the way, I was scouting for anything I've missed. Unlucky today it seems.” 

It was weird seeing him here. Like when you see a teacher in the wild. Except you're not a kid, and the teacher is fucking fine. 

You nod and share a very uncomfortable silence. 

“Listen, I'm sorry for anything I said-” 

“Hey, don't worry about it sweetheart, it was the drugs. Trust me I've heard some weird shit!”

He seems to shrug it off and you breathe a sigh of relief. The last few weeks all you've managed to think about is how much of a fool you've made of yourself. Hopefully he's chalked it all up to the drugs. No need for him to know you were speaking the truth.

“I gotta say, you don't look like a dentist.” 

Eddie laughs, a perfect deep laugh that has you squirming in your seat. 

“Yeah, I get that alot. I er, used to get beat up when I was a kid. I got punched real hard once, broke my jaw. It was wired shut for like six weeks. After that, well, you find some respect for dentistry. Thought I'd give it a shot, went to school. Seems I have a knack for it. I have an impeccable bedside manner, apparently. Or so I'm told.” 

I'll say. 

“I can- I can see that.” 

He blazes a grin at you that damn near combusts your insides. And that's what you blame for the thing that's about to fall out of your big mouth.

“Listen, I know this is crazy but can I have your number?” 

What the fuck are you doing?? Hitting on your dentist?

It seems your word vomit was indeed something that happened in real life and not just in your head. Eddie looks pained as he warms his hands on his coffee mug. 

“Listen, sweetheart, you're a very pretty girl but… I can't. It'd be wrong of me, you're my patient and-” 

“No, I get it, it was dumb, ignore me.” 

You grab your belongings at the speed of lightning and stuff everything into your bag. 

“Hey, sweetheart, wait, I literally ca-” 

Hell no. 

You've made more of an idiot of yourself than you're prepared to be comfortable with. Now, cheeks burning hotly you shoulder your heavy bag and bustle out of the store, leaving an open mouthed Eddie sitting there with his arm outstretched.

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

Today was the cherry on top of the icing on top of the cake of embarrassment. You've never asked a guy for his number before and the first time you do you're shot down? Confidence well and truly knocked, you called around and found a new dentist, and then called your old dentist's office to let them know. There was no way you could face Eddie again after you'd made a fool of yourself three times. 

In an effort to cheer yourself up after that disastrous rendezvous, you'd dressed up, put on your highest heels paired with your shortest skirt and a red silk blouse, and went out for a night on the town. 

Now, you don't make a habit of sitting at the bar on your own. You've dealt with enough creeps in your time to know that it was a bad idea. However, when it comes to your friends, you can give a little leeway. 

Hence why you sat in your very short black skirt, heels tapping on the little rail on the bottom of the bar as you sip your Manhattan, watching your friend Alex out the corner of your eye have a make-out session with his new boyfriend. They were sitting at a table just to the right; you were on a barstool giving them a couple feet of privacy. 

It was getting a little old though. In the past half an hour three men had approached you. You can't lie to yourself, it was the reason you'd agreed to be a third wheel in the first place. Trying to manifest the right kind of man clearly wasn't working however. 

The first guy looked around twelve, with the wispiest facial hair you've ever seen. As he'd nervously bumbled a line at you, you told him you've never seen a theoretical moustache before. That saw the back of him. Contestant number two was the sleaziest douchebag in the whole bar, perhaps the entire city. He was the hardest to deal with; you'd ended up just turning away and ignoring him until he'd left. Number three was some balding, middle aged man with a pot belly and a stained tie. Exhausted by the previous two, you interrupted his practised line with one clear and concise ‘No’.

Almost certain that your date tonight would involve you with your vibrator, you order another cocktail. On your left directly next to you a guy starts leaning on the bar and calls to the bartender. 

“Hey Jack, can I get a beer please, and whatever this lovely girl is drinking.” 

Rolling your eyes and turning to look at contestant number four, ready to tell them to fuck right off, you realise its Eddie. Of course it fucking is. The universe seems to have a horrible sense of humour today. He's still in his jeans and boots, but now sporting a burgundy shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Stupid dentist and his stupid hot tattooed forearms. 

“Are you following me? I don't need a pity drink thanks, I'm good.” 

You reach into your purse to pay for the drink you ordered but Eddie already has cash in his hand. He pays for it anyway and leans on the bar facing you. 

“It's not pity, it's an apology for earlier. And I think you're the one following me, I live two floors up.” 

Lips pressed into a firm line, you stir your drink with its cocktail stick and pretend that dentists don't exist.

“You can't just ignore me, you know.” 

Taking a sip of your drink you continue to stare resolutely forward. 

“OK, you can just ignore me, but I'd like it if you didn't.” 

Another sip, and you pull the little cherry off its stick and chew it. 

“So, you got a thing for dentists or is it just me, sweetheart?” 

That's it, you turn angrily to face him and scowl. 

“That's totally unfair you can't just-”

“Ha, got ya talking.” 

He's grinning at his little victory, laughter lines creasing near his eyes. If your eyes could shoot daggers you're sure he would have died from blood loss at this point. 

“Listen, I'm sorry, OK? I would have said yes in a fucking heartbeat, but I could lose my license.” 

Your eyes soften; he's clearly telling the truth and it does make sense. His licence hadn't even entered your mind. 

“I understand. Sorry for being rough on you.” 

“Don't worry about it. I just thought I better clear the air if I'm gonna be your dentist.” 

“Oh, don't worry about it. You're not.” 

“Huh?”

Looking down at the bar and drawing circles in the condensation from your drink with a finger, you explain. 

“I couldn't face seeing you again, so I, ha, ran off to a different dentist. It's a half hour out of my way, but never mind.” 

Eddie's posture changes immediately, standing fully to attention. 

“You're not my patient anymore?” 

“Nope,” you reply, and knock back the last of your drink, “I'm not.” 

“You're not my patient anymore.” 

You risk looking back at him; he's wide eyed, nodding in your direction, as if he's just told a joke that you didn't get. Face scrunched with confusion, you blink it away as a light bulb pings on inside your head. 

“Oh. I'm not your patient anymore.” 

The grin that slowly unfolds across Eddie's face is damn right sinful. 

“You wanna come upstairs?” 

“Hell yes.” 

Leaping lightly off of the bar stool, you turn to dislodge your coat from the back of Alex's chair and wave at him frantically to tell him you're leaving. He turns to you, then Eddie, then back to you with what can only be described as A Look. If you weren't so excited you would have admonished him, but who the fuck cares. 

Eddie grabs your hand firmly and pushes through the thronging crowd with you in tow. The cold night air hits you like a blow to the chest when you escape, as does your rash decision. 

Eddie seems to sense your hesitation. Pulling you into a doorway he grabs your other hand and looks at you. 

“Sweetheart, you know you don't have to do anything you don't want to. We can just go upstairs, have a drink, or not, and chat. Really.” 

“Really?” You cock your head with the question as he licks his bottom lip with a pink tongue, dragging it to his perfect teeth to bite. He looks nervous, and for some reason, that is doing it for you right now. 

“Really. I'm just saying we don't have to rush-” 

The rest of his sentence is swallowed whole by your kiss as you tip your head up and push your lips against his firmly. Eddie grabs your waist with one hand, the other snaking into your hair to cradle your head. 

For a moment you forget about the cold, about the fact that anyone can see you like this right now. All that matters is the pounding heat of his body smashing against yours and the passion pouring from his tongue as it swipes and rolls and fills your mouth with unexpected moans.

Nails digging into his back, as if attempting to claw under his clothes, you force his body against the wall in the wanton desire to be closer. His hand massages the silk of your blouse at your waist, warmth spreading from his palm into your very flesh and seeping down between your legs. 

You'd have him, right here, against this wall, right now, if he hadn't pulled your head back softly to break the kiss. The tips of your noses rub together as you both gasp for the same air. He's smiling and biting his lip again, but this time it looks like a distraction to stop himself from devouring you. Eddie breaks the feral spell first.

“So, just a chat, yeah?” 

You both laugh, a giddy silly thing reserved for the two of you. 

“Yeah, you're probably right. Don't want to rush these things.” 

Nodding sagely, you take his proffered hand and let him lead you inside and up the stairs. 

You're not sure what you expect his place to look like, but you're pleasantly surprised at how open and spacious it is. Hardwood floors, big windows, a big black sofa, and an open kitchen area with a little breakfast bar. There's a wall of shelves with what must be hundreds of records, CDs and tapes on it, all neatly organised and displayed, and an expensive looking sound system. Two guitars sit by the couch as if they'd been played recently, along with an amp that seems to be doubling as a side table. There's a small pile of boxes over by one wall that have yet to be unpacked. And that's it.

No wonder it looks so spacious, there's nothing in it. 

“Eddie, it's a great place, but er, where's all your stuff?” 

He looks a little sheepish as he flicks a standing lamp on and shuts the curtains. 

“Yeah. Got the basics sorted; kitchen, bedroom, music. Honestly, never lived anywhere this big before, and my last place came furnished.” 

He gestures widely at the sofa with a swing of his arm and you perch on it, ankles crossed, fully aware of how short your skirt is. 

“So, you wanna drink? Unfortunately I can't make a Manhattan but I’ve got rum, some vodka, sodas, maybe a beer?” 

“What do you mean you can't make a Manhattan? What sort of establishment is this?” 

You huff dramatically, folding your arms. 

“I'm terribly sorry Ma’am, I shall have a word with the management.” 

Eddie falls to one knee in a low bow, a mock plea for your forgiveness and the sheer goofiness makes your heart do a little hop inside your chest. 

“What can I possibly do to make it up to you?” 

His eyes are open, honest and sincere. But the grin fighting to crawl over his face is naughtiness personified.

“Well I shall have a beer now, and maybe you can make it up to me later?” 

Smirking, he presses a soft kiss to your knee, then another, to the side of it. Letting his teeth drag further he playfully nips at the outside of your thigh and smooths the area with a lick. 

Breathe. Remember, you need oxygen to live. 

You take a harsh, ragged breath in as if inhaling for the first time and try to concentrate on slowing your heart rate. This is madness, you feel wrecked from a sprinkling of kisses. 

Feeling Eddie's soft chuckle as the air from it dances on your thigh, he gets back up looking far too pleased with himself. 

“You know, you shouldn't be that forward with a lady.” 

Throwing his head back and laughing loudly he walks around the back of the couch. Directly behind you, he begins talking again. 

“I don't see a lady here.” 

Whipping your head around to reprimand him, he bends to your level and whispers in your exposed ear. 

“I see a very good girl.” 

Words die in your throat having never reached your tongue. There's no witty repartee, just an odd noise that blurts out of you, halfway between a whimper and a squeak. 

Eddie walks away towards the fridge to grab your drink, no doubt with a very smug look on his face. In his absence you fan yourself to try to quench some of the raging heat within, but at this point it's like throwing a water bomb at a house fire. Undoing one button on your blouse, you let the girls have a little air at least. 

He returns, drinks in hand, and offers one to you with a bow of his head. 

“Milady.” 

You take it and sip as Eddie sits next to you. 

“I thought I wasn't a lady?”

“You are right, absolutely right,” he responds, shuffling closer to put an arm around you, and nuzzles your neck teasingly, “and I am not a gentleman.” 

You reach out to the side, and realise there's nowhere to put your beer. 

“Eddie, you need a coffee table or something.” 

“Just, put it on the floor.” 

Placing it gently on the floor, wincing as you do so, you mumble half to yourself, “if my mother could see me now…” 

“I'm sure she'd have more important things to say than about the lack of coasters, sweetheart.” 

“You have a very good point.” 

Eddie holds your jaw, softly turning your face to his own, and presses a kiss to your cheek, then your jaw, and finally to your lips. It's more gentle than the searing heat of the last one; a languid spell of tongues finding their way against each other. 

As you both break away, Eddie strokes your bare thigh, whispering in your ear as he does so. 

“God, when you walked in my office, I thought I might have to switch professions. I just wanted to hike that tight skirt up and bury my face right here.” 

His hand moves up your leg, a finger ghosting over the top of your panties that makes a shiver work all its way to the tips of your toes. It's a bold move, and one you wouldn't stand for usually, but this is Eddie. You've been fantasising about this for the last two months. Hell, this scene has played in your brain so long it was almost like it didn't feel like the first time.

So, if he's going to be that bold, then bold it is.

“Well, I gotta confess, it took a lot for me to not moan around your fingers in my mouth.” 

Eddie groans loud, throwing his head against the back of the couch. 

“Fuck that's so hot. C'mere.” 

He's coaxing you into his lap and you follow his lead, swinging your leg across him and most likely giving him a choice view of your lacy underwear. His large hands wander over your frame, mapping out your curves with his eyes as well as his fingers. 

“Eddie.” 

You breathe it out, your hands resting on his shoulders. He's getting hard beneath you, you can feel it as your hips start to move back and forth of their own accord. 

“Hmm?” 

He doesn't look up, busy stroking your sides, thumb brushing your breasts with each pass. Every nerve feels like a live wire, feeling more needy than you think you've ever been. 

“Eddie, please, just kiss me.” 

“No.” 

“No?”

He does look at you then, giving you a cheeky smile.

“I think I've got the hottest girl in the city on my lap right now, let me savour it a little.” 

Rolling your eyes, you reach to the front of your blouse and start unbuttoning it slowly, letting the silky fabric fall off your shoulders and away. The fates seem to be in your favour for once; this is your best bra, adorned in satin and black lace.

“Well, someone's eager. Were you looking to get lucky tonight?” 

Eddie says as he smirks at you, a hand stroking up, over your laced covered chest, coming to rest on the side of your throat. 

“It's been a while Eddie, forgive me for being keen.” 

“Oh yeah, what was it? Nine months, right?” 

Cringing at his words whilst he chuckles, you rest your forehead on his shoulder to hide your face. 

“Technically no.” It's muffled into the fabric of his shirt.

“No?”

Still unwilling to look at him, you reply, “that was a few weeks ago. It's ten now.” 

Pulling you upright again, he playfully pouts, a little mocking face that's making your insides pulse. 

“Aw, poor, poor baby. Guess I shouldn't tease so much. Why don't you take this ridiculous skirt off and sit for me sweetheart.” 

It's comical how quickly you follow his directions, shuffling your skirt off and laying back on the sofa, ass near the edge, as he drops to his knees on the floor in front of you. 

“That's it, right there. Such a good listener.”

As he runs his hands up the inside of your thighs, you spread your legs to make room for him, breath quickening in anticipation. 

“I suppose I better check,” he says as he looks up at you with a serious expression, pierced eyebrow arching. 

“Check what?” 

“How wet my words made you.” 

‘Oh God!” you squeak, hiding in your hands, “I can't believe you remembered that!” 

“Remembered it? I can't think of anything else.” 

His thick rough fingertips reach higher and higher; he slips two under your panties, hooking them to one side as his digits glide through your wetness. 

“Oh sweetheart, you're soaked. That must be uncomfortable. Don't worry I'm gonna do something about that.” 

You're thinking of something clever to say back but your mind empties entirely as his touch moves to your clit and rubs slow, deliberate circles. 

The relief of him finally stroking just where you need it has you near tears, breathy gasps pulling from your chest and rushing out your mouth. 

His fingers leave you suddenly and you resist the urge to stamp your foot like an impatient toddler, fists tight at your sides. Eddie raises up on his knees, leaning toward your chest. 

“I'm gonna take this off first, that OK sweetheart?” 

He runs a finger between the valley of your breasts as he speaks, making your back arch into the hint of a touch. 

“Y-yes.” 

“Atta girl.” 

He reaches behind you and flicks your bra clasp, opening it with such ease that it makes you question internally how many times he's done that before. Then, he pulls the straps down slowly and with such reverence that you forget your thoughts. 

“Jesus Christ, you are just perfect aren't you.” 

Solid knuckles rub gently over a pebbled nipple making you whimper and bite your lip. Leaning in, his mouth is wet and warm, almost leisurely massaging your nipple, then giving the same amount of care and attention to the other. 

When his teeth graze you an unfiltered moan shoots out from you, entirely unbidden. 

“Wow, you're really sensitive,” he says when he unlatches his mouth. He pinches one abruptly and you cry out, hand grasping at his bicep in pleasurable shock. Licking his lips, he grins at you. 

“Oh we are gonna have a lot of fun sweetheart.” 

Running a finger just under the hem of your panties, he pulls them down as you assist him, lifting your ass to give him room. He shakes his head, biting his lip as he takes all of you in with his eyes now that you're entirely exposed, as if he can’t believe his luck. 

Kissing down your quivering form, he finally slips that overbold tongue of his between your folds, running it back and forth over your sensitive nub. His tongue searches you, taking care to leave no spot untouched. It's deliberate; a slow and intense exploration of your sex, as if mapping out every sweet spot, spurred on by the moans spilling from your lips with ever increasing frequency. 

Each sound you make is echoed, mirrored by Eddie, as if he was taking as much enjoyment in eating you out as you were in receiving it. The build up is as slow as his movements, but that certainly isn't a bad thing. Far from it. The feeling fizzing in your very blood is deep and profound, and it keeps building. 

Until Eddie does this twirling thing with his tongue that makes your eyes cross, that sets each one of your nerves on fire, fingers desperately grasping at his soft waves as you moan even louder. 

“Fuck, Eddie! Right there!” 

His words are muffled, a hint of amusement in them, but you're sure he says “yes ma'am.”

Then he does it again, and again, tongue twisting like it's independent from his body, swirling you into a deep pool of overwashing ecstasy. Back leaving the soft confines of the couch you clutch at his hair as your hoarse moans pound out of you, until you flop back down, a glistening panting mess. 

Eddie's still kissing your delicate parts, leaving soft, almost innocent kisses. He presses his lips to your clit again and you squirm, trying to get out of his gentle, grasping hands. It's a soft touch, but his hands are immovable, like velvet wrapped around a steel bar. 

“Eddie, fuck, I-I'm really sensitive-” 

“Oh I know sweetheart,” he says, pressing his mouth against you over and over, “but we're not done.” 

Staring at him wide eyed, he lifts one hand, ring and middle finger outstretched, and brushes the tips of them to your kiss bitten bottom lip. 

“Can you get these nice and wet for me sweetheart?”

Parting your lips slightly, he slips the fingers inside and you do as instructed, licking and suckling on them, surprised by how fiercely you wanted to. They felt rough and heavy on your tongue. Eddie's staring at you with a burning admiration in his eyes, still pushing his lips to you. He suckles softly at your clit making you writhe and moan around him. As he pulls his fingers out you call to him. 

“Eddie, I can't it's too much-” 

“Shhh, princess, do you really want me to stop?” 

A little drop of shame trickles down your throat at the thought. 

“No,” you whisper. 

“That's what I thought,” he says as his fingers circle your silken entrance, “be good for me sweetheart, good girls come twice.” 

You're not sure if the heady moan that you release is due to his fingers slipping inside you, or his words. It could be a combination of both. Stroking at you incessantly, his fingers drive into you, perpetually caressing that soft spot inside that makes your toes curl. 

Your release creeps up unsurprisingly fast. It's all force and pressure, a tightening, full feeling that's gripping your insides in its strong claws. One minute you're holding on to reality and the next, you're gone, floating away as the pressure melts and cascades from you like stardust. 

Your vision unblurring, you realise what's happened when the sound of it reaches your ears. That squelching, soaking noise of Eddie's fingers working you through the last throes of your pleasure. 

As you look down Eddie's staring at your dripping pussy with awe, having to pull his fingers out of you with a bit of force since you don't seem to want to let go. He sits back on his heels with a smile that could rival the Cheshire cats, absolutely coated in your juices. It's covering his face, his hand, and it's even darkened the front and sleeve of his shirt. 

An apology nestles on the tip of your tongue, but it stays there when Eddie speaks. 

“Atta girl, did so good for me. Fuck, I kinda want to see if you can do that again.” 

Opening your mouth for a witty remark, it escapes you. Your usually sharp mind is now the consistency of spray cheese. All that comes out is a soft little noise, a cross between a hum and a thank you. 

“Stay right there, I'll be back.” 

You giggle a little as he runs off. Where on earth does he think you'll go? And more importantly, how? 

When he returns his face and hands are clean, and crucially, he's shirtless. Lean muscle gleams in the low light, decorated with a dozen or so tattoos. He's got a cloth in one hand, and a glass of water in the other. 

“Here, drink up sweetheart, you need it.” 

You search for a hint of playfulness or smugness in his face and come up empty. In fact, he's staring, waiting for you to take a sip. When you do, he smiles, and goes about wiping the tops of your thighs. The cloth is even warm. You've never been given a warm cloth before, the closest being a handful of scrunched up tissues. 

“Eddie, where have you been all my life?” 

Laughing loudly, he sits next to you, stealing a sip of your water. 

“I came as quickly as I could.” 

It was a cheesy line, but you're beyond caring, a goofy grin smeared all over your face. 

“Can I take you to the bedroom?” 

You nod and before you can get up he's scooping you into his arms. 

“Eddie, I can walk you know,” you say as you drape your arms around his neck. 

“Oh I know, I just want to take care of you.” 

Fuck. You could move in tomorrow. 

The only things you notice about the bedroom are the soft blue of the duvet as he places you gently on top of it and the bedside lamps he flicks on that bathe the room in a warm glow. The rest doesn't matter, not right now. Your eyes are on him as he stands at the edge of the bed, looking at you as if you were a beautiful sculpture carved from the finest marble. 

Getting up on your knees, you smile cheekily up at him as you hook your fingers into the worn denim and pop the top button. 

“And what do you think you're doing?” He asks, hand moving up to cradle your face. 

“I was going to return the favour.” 

You unzip the fly and pull them down, eyes widening at the swollen bulge in his trunks. They're tight, leaving little room for the imagination, but anything you may have imagined couldn't possibly compare to the real thing. 

“Not tonight sweetheart. Like I said, I want to take care of you.” 

He turns to the nightstand and rummages around, pulling out a packet of condoms. It's new, you notice, as he unwraps the film and takes one out, placing it on the side whilst he rolls his underwear off.

As he's putting it on you gawp shamelessly, truly wondering if it's actually going to fit. No wonder he's so confident. 

“Did you actually just turn down a blow job?” 

He smiles, crawling between your legs and caging your head between his arms. 

“What can I say, I'm a giver.” 

He stops for a moment, knuckles stroking your cheek. 

“You sure you wanna do this?” 

Smiling gently, you reach down and grasp his solid member making him jolt, and rub the tip through your slick. 

“Yes.” 

You line him up and his smile turns into an open mouthed groan, eyebrows knitting together as he starts slipping inside of you. 

“Eddie, holy- fuck.” 

“You're OK sweetheart, doing such a good job for me.” 

He pushes in further and you realise why all the foreplay was necessary. Clearly, he enjoyed it too, but you're not sure you could have taken him without it. When he's finally sitting flush inside you wince a little, hands tight on his shoulders. 

“You feel incredible, so tight for me.” 

Whimpering, you can feel your cheeks heat with the praise. 

“God you really do like my words don't you?” 

Grinning mischievously, he plants a soft kiss to your lips. It weirdly feels more intimate than him being inside you. 

“Y-yeah, it's really sexy Eddie.” 

His cock kicks up inside you, making you gasp a little. 

“You're really sexy. The little sounds you make, your moans.”

As if demonstrating that, he pulls out a little and thrusts in gently, forcing a quivering sigh from you. 

“See? Fucking perfect sweetheart.” 

He begins rolling his hips into you, never pulling out too much, as if he couldn't stand to be any further apart. 

One of his sinewy arms snakes its way underneath you, holding you close as he playfully nips your earlobe and breathing whispers into your ear. 

“How many times?” 

“Huh?” You respond, utterly lost in the feel of him dragging against your gripping walls. 

“How many times do you want to come?” 

You giggle, despite the situation, or maybe because of it.

“I don't usually, oh, get t-to choose, is there a- oh fuck- there a menu or something?” 

He chuckles and slows down just slightly, pushing into you devastatingly deep. 

“What's the most you've managed?” 

He's so thick, and the feel of him is otherworldly; it had you wondering how it'd feel without the layer of latex between you. 

“I can't- fuck- I can't think- like two?”

He stops, looking at you incredulously  with a furrowed brow.

“Two? We can do better than that.” 

He speeds up, leaning on one arm as his other hand finds its way down your torso and begins to rub your clit. That pulse inside you is sent into overdrive, mouth open and panting as you cling to his back, nails digging into his skin. 

Your release swells inside, growing, and intensifying, until it suddenly pops, showering you in pleasure. Tears spring in the corners of your eyes as you moan out your release an inch from his face.

“Atta girl,” Eddie says as he nudges you with his nose, “do that again.” 

Your clit feels a little sore, swollen and sensitive after so much pleasure. His touch is gentle, but it's still overwhelming. 

“Eddie, I-I can't, please-” 

“You want me to stop? I'll stop if you want that sweetheart.” 

The sharp feeling begins to dull, making way for another wave of euphoria that washes over your whole body. Legs twitching uncontrollably, you whine long and low, a flood of noises bursting from you that no damn could ever stop. 

“That a no, sweetheart?” 

“Don't stop don't stop don’t stop - oh!” 

You'd be embarrassed by the crazy noise you made as you come again, if you were even aware of it. A screeching loud moan, eyes scrunched as your body leaves the bed and your nails drag across his bare back. 

“That's it, knew you could, so good for me. Fuck, nearly lost it.” 

He does stop then, biting his lip to stop himself from unleashing his own orgasm as his breath comes in short huffs. 

“Eddie, you don't have to- ohmygod!”

The last of your sentence evaporates on your tongue as he hooks his arms under your legs and pushes your thighs flush to your chest. It seems even Eddie has lost the power of speech, dirty moans pouring from his mouth that rival your own. 

He's so deep, impossibly deep; as if he were in your guts at this point. You've never felt so full in all your life. Your third release is almost there, a tightening string wound around you, pulling and twisting and contorting your body into a writhing sweaty shambles. 

You're clenching and convulsing around his pumping length as he twitches inside you, his groans and grunts spurring you on. It's faster now, his thrusts becoming more erratic. Sweat clings to the very air, the heat in the room creating this cloying humidity that dampens each breath out, making hair stick to skin and creating loud slapping sounds of your conjunction. 

Eddie's face is red with effort, teeth gritted and lips tight. 

“Are you gonna come again? I can feel you. Please, sweetheart, please- fuck- I need it, I need it, come with me!” 

You let go. The tight string breaks and your orgasm spreads through your very soul; it's so profound and savage that tears spill out and down your cheeks with its intensity. Eddie joins you, coming as one with a drawn out groan that borders on feral. 

For a moment, you both revel in it, just panting, feeling sticky skin against skin, heartbeats slowing, muscles unwinding and relaxing. 

He finally unhooks his arms from your legs and you lay them shakily on the down as he clambers off, collapsing next to you on the bed. 

“You OK sweetheart?” 

“Hmm.”

It's all you can reply with, a little satisfied noise. Scooting closer to him, you place your hand hesitantly on his chest. 

“Hang on a sec.” 

He gets up and disposes of the condom, slowly padding out the room. Returning again with another glass of water for you, he hands it over with a raise of an eyebrow. This time you take it gratefully, chugging half of it before passing it back. 

A moment of panic grips your chest, followed by shame. You barely know him, yet you'd gone to his place with hardly any hesitation. 

As he lays back down next to you, scooping his arm around your back, you clear your throat. 

“I just, er, wanted you to know I don't usually do this.” 

“Hey, it's alright. Neither do I.”

Feeling slightly less trampy, you stroke his chest with delicate fingers, wishing for the moment to last but knowing it can't. 

“I don't think my legs work anymore, I think you'll have to call me a taxi.”

Eddie sits up suddenly, looking at you with anguish written all over his face. 

“You're not leaving, are you?” 

“Well, I don't fancy doing the walk of shame tomorrow in that outfit.” 

He pouts, looking much younger than he is. 

“Oh. Well, you can always borrow something to wear?” 

“That's even worse!” You laugh, hitting his chest softly. 

“Fine, then I'll go out in the morning and buy you something to wear.” 

Staring at him wide eyed, you realise he's not joking. 

“Really?” 

“Sweetheart, I'd buy you a whole new wardrobe if it meant you’d stay.” 

Heart beating just that little bit faster in your chest, you fight the tears that want to build up. 

“I just thought, you know, well, we don't know each other that well and that you might think this was just, a thing.” 

“You mean a one night thing?”

You nod, not trusting your voice. 

“C'mere.” 

Melting into his open arms, he kisses the top of your head.

“I want you to stay. I'll take you home Monday and-” 

“Eddie, tomorrow's Sunday.” 

“I know.” 

“Eddie, I have to work Monday. So do you!” 

You laugh, trying to break free of his arms but he doesn't let up. 

“Fine, I'll take you home tomorrow. Late. Then see you Monday night.” 

Face hurting from smiling, you settle into the cuddle, the swell of feeling in your chest almost too much for you right now. 

“Eddie I can't stay. I don't have a toothbrush.” 

You say it jokingly, and he squeezes you. 

“It's fine, I've got like 20 of them from work.” 

“Thief.” 

“I prefer to think of it as resourceful.” 

Suddenly he pulls you on top of him making you squeal. 

“So you gonna stay?” 

“Yeah, fine I'll stay.” You try to say it in a mocking manner but your silly grin belies your rolling eyes. 

“Good.” 

Holding you close, Eddie breathes such a sigh of relief; a deep one, one that sounds like he's been holding in for some time. A sigh that makes you feel special. 

Permanent Taglist (couple of these are assumed, if you want off let me know! Same if you want to be added sweethearts)

@liminalpebble @eddies-puppet @rip-quizilla @micheledawn1975 @vanilla-demon @millercontracting @roanniom @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @mrsjellymunson @usedtobecooler @eddiesprincess86 @ali-r3n

[mooki3-bear]

I Need You (Paige Bueckers x black!fem!reader)

Summary: You and Paige go through a rough patch, you only see one solution

Warnings: Just a lot of cursing

word count: 1346

I was tired. I was tired of the constant arguing, silent treatments, and petty comments. The most tiring thing of them all was trying to keep up the picture of a happy couple when I knew we were the complete opposite at the moment. 

I woke up around eight in the morning, feeling around the bed for Paige’s warmth. When I was met with a cold part of the bed, the memories from the night before came rushing back. The screaming, the insults, and the words that could never be taken back. Which then led to Paige sleeping on the couch. We have had some pretty bad arguments, but this one definitely takes the cake. I rubbed my burning eyes, which were dry from the tears, and made my way out of our room to the kitchen. As soon as I opened the door, I was met with Paige, making coffee in the kitchen. Our eyes met, but we didn't say a word to each other. I hesitantly made my way to the kitchen island and took the coffee that she slid in front of me. We sat in an uncomfortable silence, which was considered normal at this point, waiting for the other to say something. Anything.

 As we sat there I wondered to myself. I wondered how everything went to shit after a beautiful three-year relationship. I wondered how such a loving apartment that felt like home soon turned into a place you dreaded waking up in. I wondered if I had the opportunity to go back in time, what I would have to do to prevent all of this from happening. 

With a deep breath, the first word in five minutes is spoken. “Paige…we need to talk” I say with a shaky breath. Paige’s head shoots up, her eyes filled with concern. “All we’ve been doing for the last month is arguing. It’s literally draining the life out of me” I say as I move my coffee away to make sure I am more focused on the conversation. “I know. I'm sorry but I've just been stressed, babe. You can’t get mad at me for being stressed” Paige scoffs and turns away. “Did I fucking say I was mad at you for being stressed, Paige? No, I didn't! So don’t put-” I take a deep breath, not wanting to start another draining argument between us. Paige noticed that I was more frustrated than usual. “Look, I'm sorry. Can we just lie down and watch a movie? I just wanna forget last night happened” Paige suggests as she takes my hand in her’s. This is the bullshit that makes me so mad. I don’t want to ignore the issue. That's all she ever wants to do.

“No, Paige. We have to talk. We can’t keep ignoring this. If we ignore it all the time it just gets worse and worse” I stand up and walk around the small space of our apartment. “I don’t feel like talking about it. I just wanna sleep and lay with you. The couch wasn’t the most comfortable” Paige laughs, trying to soften the mood. “I understand Paige. However, what happened last night was just…it was a lot” I sigh, rubbing my hand through my tight coils. “ Oh my god. Are you seriously still upset about that? I told you about eighteen times you have nothing to be jealous of” Paige's voice gets louder, as she remembers how ridiculous she felt the conversation was. “You constantly telling me ‘Don’t worry about it’ and ‘You're overreacting’ doesn’t ease my fucking nerves, babe. It makes me feel like I'm delusional and I know I'm not” I say, becoming more and more frustrated with every word that leaves my mouth.  “I never said the you were delusional, babe! I’m telling you that you have nothing to worry about. If you don’t believe me I don’t know what to tell you. What do you want me to do” Paige rubs her hands over her face as she makes her way over to the couch. 

“I don’t know Paige! I honestly don’t know but you don’t understand. The way you say these things makes me feel…like I'm this weird insecure girlfriend who needs you to coddle her all the time” I say walking over to stand in front of her. She slightly, but noticeably rolls her eyes. I scoff and walk into the bedroom, just needing to get away from her. To my misfortune, she follows me. “Baby! I am trying my best to figure out what you want. You're acting fucking weird and I don’t know what you want” Paige exclaims. I stood and looked at her for a while….what did I want? 

Why were we always having these useless arguments that felt like they were going nowhere? Was I trying to prove something? Were we trying to keep something alive that just wasn’t there anymore? What the fuck was going on.

“Hello? Seriously what is going on with you” Paige asks as she annoyingly waves a hand in front of your face. “Paige” I pause, not exactly sure what to say. “I think we need to take a break” Tears finally fall from my eyes. Paige’s entire demeanor changes, shock filling her body. “What the fuck are you talking about” Paige asks with a shaky voice. “I just feel like we should take a break…this relationship needs a break” I walk over to the closet, packing a bag full of enough clothes until I can get the rest of mine. “Why would we need to take a break Y/n? Because we had a few arguments? That makes no sense” She exclaims, following me into the closet. “Paige! We have been constantly fighting for a fucking month now! Im fucking tired” I yell while clapping my hands, hoping to get my point across. Paige’s eyes fill with tears, both of us motionless. It felt like someone had just stabbed me in the heart.

 I would never in a million years have guessed that I would be packing my clothes to take a break from the love of my life. Paige all of a sudden takes my hand in hers, staring into what felt like my soul. “Y/n…please. Don’t leave. I'm sorry” Tears fall down the blonde's face as I drop my duffle bag to the floor for a split second. Every bone in my body was telling you to stay, to forget everything that had happened. They were telling me to just sit on the couch like I usually would and brace for the next argument that would ring throughout the apartment. However, my heart was telling me that you needed time apart so that we could get better. 

I take the girl's face in my hands, looking into her beautiful blue eyes. “It’s not forever Paige. I promise,” I say, trying to keep a strong face on. “But we need some time apart so that we can get better…I need you to understand” I whisper. Paige is hesitant but nods her head. I finally let out a shaky breath as she sniffles and leaves the room. As she closes the door I let out another shaky breath that turns into a sob. 

As I calm myself down I finish packing my bag with enough clothes to keep me through the “break”. Once I finished, I walked out into the living room to see Paige curled up on the couch, eyes red from her tears. With a shaky breath, I walk over to her, giving her a passionate kiss before making my way to the door. With my hand on the handle, I hesitate, turning to Paige to look at her for the last time in a while. “I love you, P,” I say, with a smile and salty tears falling down my face. “I love you too, Beautiful” Paige sniffles and laughs. With those last words being said, I close the door to our apartment, ready to see what life has in store for me until I see her next. 

This was my first REALLY long fic! I hope yall enjoyed and I MIGHT make a part two cuz I hate when some angst don't have a happy ending <3

[lumitoiile]

tartaglia : [snow day.]

☆ — requested! contains: established relationship, fluff, gn! reader (no pronouns.) a day in the snow with your boyfriend. tartaglia has freckles.

there it goes again. 

you're out on a stroll with none other than your beloved boyfriend, ajax, walking hand in hand as you two enjoy this evenings frosty weather. thick layers of white crunch beneath your feet as you walk, the tip of your nose pink from the cold. you cant help but admire the way the flurry blankets over your surroundings, trees coated in a sheet of frost. its been snowing all day, and he thought it'd be nice to go out and bask in the chilliness together. he loves the snow, after all. 

but for some strange reason, his scarf just wont stay in place, no matter how tightly you secure it. you've redone it at least three times now—not like he cares enough to fix it himself—and its really starting to get on your nerves. 

you let out an annoyed sigh, reaching up to fasten it for him yet again. “idiot...you’re going to catch a cold if this keeps up.”

this steals a chuckle from his lips, though he dismisses your worry with a wave of his hand. “i would never catch a cold. i dont get sick,” he states confidently.

”well, dont jinx it,” you warn, re-looping the fabric and tying the scarf extra tightly this time around. snug enough to stay put, but not enough to a point where he'll find it uncomfortable. “there. all warm.” 

he smiles as he watches you bundle him up, a mischievous glint sparkling in his eye that you're all too familiar with. "oh, but my lips are still so, so unbearably cold in this jarring snezhnayan weather..." his palm finds its way to the small of your back, and he pulls you a little closer. "wont you be a doll and warm those up for me too?"

you roll your eyes at him, though its hard to deny the soft pink hue creeping its way onto your cheeks. you pull yourself out of his grasp, averting your gaze and staring off to the ground. "youre ridiculous...come on, lets keep moving. it's way too cold to deal with your shenanigans." 

he feigns a gasp, clutching at his chest dramatically. "you dare reject affection to the one you love? scandalous!" 

you let out an amused huff and continue to walk ahead of him, stuffing your hands in your pockets to protect them from the cold. he's such a dork sometimes...well, all the time, really. but thats one of the things you love about him. not that you'd ever tell him that directly to his face, however...he has a big enough of an ego as it—

bam.

a cold object crashes against your cranium and you gasp at the contact, rubbing the back of your head and swiveling around on your heel to search for the source. there stands ajax, looking anywhere but your eyes as he smiles and whistles to himself, hands behind his back. 

it was a snowball. he just hit you with a fucking snowball. 

"wow," you chuckle, voice poisonously sharp as you lean over to scoop a cluster of snow into your palms. "thats how we're gonna play it, huh?"

he's still faced away, smiling sweetly to himself and biting back a laugh. "i have no idea what youre talking abo—"

you fling a snowball of your own, cutting him off mid-sentence as the chilly lump collides into his chest. he gapes at you, disbelieving, and you smirk a little, chuckling at his now dampened sweater. 

though naturally, of course, this now means war. 

the both of you go on, hurling clumps of flurry at each other for archons know how long. its an all-out showdown between you two, dodging snowballs left and right as the snow crunches beneath your feet with each leap. that is, until you launch a snowball a little too hard and hit him smack dab in the face. he visibly staggers and you let out a yelp, rushing over to his side immediately. 

"shit," you pant, exhausted from your battle. "im so sorry. are you oka—"

he interrupts you by scraping the snow off of his skin, smearing it onto your face with a big smile. "perfectly fine," he beams. 

you gasp in surprise at the cold and swipe the snow off immediately, pressing your face between the fabric of your mittens and breathing warm air into your hands. "you're such a prick..."

he stares at you for a moment longer, the silence heavy before the both of you burst out into a fit of laughter. he plops down onto the snow, laying back and patting the spot beside him. "c'mere."

you suppose this means your earlier duel served no victor, but...thats alright. you'll get him next time. you take a seat beside him, smiling softly and resting your head on his chest. his heartbeat thumps quietly in his ribcage and you listen carefully, closing your eyes and breathing in sync with each beat. 

"look," he whispers, nudging you gently, and you open your eyes to see that a fresh flurry of snow has started to fall. he sticks out his tongue to catch a few flakes in his mouth and you laugh, giving him a small squeeze. you gaze at his face as he licks at the falling snow, at his piercing blue eyes, before your eyes trail down to his cheeks and...ah.

his freckles.

slowly, you reach up to cup his face in your palm, thumb brushing over his cheek as you trace patterns and connect his freckles together. his attention turns back to you and he smiles, leaning into the touch of your hand. "what exactly do you think you're doing?"

"constellations," you breathe, ghosting over each and every inch of his dotted face carefully. "im tracing constellations into your freckles. theyre like...stars..." 

he laughs, bringing your hand to his lips and kissing your knuckles tenderly. butterflies. your face heats up at the contact, and your heart cant help but thump a little faster with the way he handles you so delicately. 

its cold here. so, so cold. and yet...he always somehow finds a way to make you feel warm. 

© lumitoiile. please do not copy, steal, translate, or edit my work.

[heeliopheelia]

"i think i've always loved you" (jungwon x reader)

genre: fluff word count: 0.9k requested by @miukityy-deactivated20230802 ♡

masterlist

The hallway is unusually silent as you walk through the empty school with an injured Jungwon hanging on your neck. It's an irony, really, that you, out of all people, have been chosen as the one to walk him to the nurse after he'd hurt his ankle in a result of bumping his head with one of his teammates and falling down roughly.

"How's your leg?" You ask to somehow fill the silence, hand gripping his waist tightly.

He shoots you a pointed look before scoffing with slight amusement. "Not the best," he hums, finding humor in your shy words. "I think it might be twisted."

"That would suck," you murmur quietly.

This finally gets a laugh out of him. "Why are you still so awkward around me?" He chuckles, pinching your side playfully. "You really have no reason to be, after all those years. Makes me think you hate me or something."

He's teasing, you know that. But still, his words make you squirm a little because they couldn't have been farther from the truth.

You know it's weird that you're still so tense around him even though you've been, more or less, friends for such long time. But you like to tell yourself that your behavior is absolutely excusable. Because how else is one supposed to act around their long time crush without blowing their cover?

You lower your head, deciding on an honest answer this time. "Funny cause I always felt like you're the one who hates me."

Jungwon snorts from your ridiculous thought. "That's crazy. C'mon, everyone knows I've always liked you." His confession does little to pacify your already pounding heart and just when you think about letting it slide, he goes on almost as if someone treated him with an honesty potion. "No, scratch that. Actually, I think I've always loved you."

The quiet, almost embarrassed mumble just can't go past your ears this time, completely disregarding Jungwon's deepest wish that you didn't actually hear his words. Your body tenses up as you halt your steps, head shooting to the side to cast a shocked glance at Jungwon.

Did you hear that right or are you just this far gone into your delusion?

"What?" You manage to stumble out. His arm wrapped around your shoulders all of sudden leaves a nearly burning trace behind and you shiver slightly. "You really must've gotten it hard in the head, huh?"

Jungwon strangles a groan that bubbles up in his throat, knowing well that this slip up was no one else's fault but his. Oh God, he's really doing this. Running his free hand over his face, he unsuccessfully tries to shake off the sudden nervousness spreading over his system like some kind of a parasite.

"No, what? I wasn't- Okay, fuck, whatever," he breathes out quickly, stumbling over his words and slightly loosening his grip on you to face you better. "I'm in love with you. I mean it. I've been ever since you barged into my class and hit Riki's head with this brick-ass notebook of yours."

You flush at the mention of the memorable momentum from over four years ago. With ears burning, you forget about his injury for a hot moment and step away from his touch, the sudden movement catching Jungwon off guard and causing him to stumble forward with a whine, right back into your smaller frame.

"Shit, I'm so sorry," you rush out the apology, arms instinctively finding their way around his middle again, keeping him steady.

You're left breathless, feeling absolutely each and every emotion striking your heart one by one. And in this moment, looking up at his ever so pretty face, cheeks slightly flushed with pink and eyes wide with nerves; you decide to show your answer through actions rather than words.

So you raise to your tippy toes and capture his lips with yours without even a hint of hesitation. Even if Jungwon's heart literally jumps out of his chest, all hair rise up on his arms and world nearly halts to a stop – he never lets you know any of these things as he dips his head down, allowing you to get more comfortable and settle back on your feet, kissing you twice as intensely as he finally lets go of all the pent up tension in his body.

He presses his lips deeply to yours, drinking every quiet sound that you make as his hand makes its way up to your face, fingers brushing your skin so gently in the total contrast to his relentless mouth biting and bruising yours.

And fuck him for not growing the balls to confess to you sooner.

You let his desperate lips do anything and everything to yours right now, ignoring the tingling that guarantees they're gonna be swollen and burning after he pulls away. But you're way too infatuated and greedy to loosen your grip around his neck.

You're unwillingly forced to break the kiss when your lungs feel as if they're about to collapse, so with one, two, three more pecks to his wet lips, you take a step back, yet not far enough from him to not feel his heavy breath on your face.

"I might like you a little too," you can't help but tease quietly, now finally content with your feelings and watching giddily as a fond smile makes its way to his red lips.

He hums, hands moving to your hips. "Only a little?"

"A tiny bit," you keep the banter up, squirming with a squeal when his fingers dig into your sides in a tickle.

permanent taglist: @bambisgirl @arizejkt19 @luvmura @milisabunny @cathy-1997 @satoruskitchenrag @ramenoil @jenjnk @jaylaxies @yoongspi

[milkywaydrabbles]

A/N: I don't think I'll ever stop thinking about Fratboy! Gojo this is actually my downfall for ever opening my mouth. Part three of the series that wasn't supposed to exist.

Part one | part two

"Stop fucking with me Gojo!" You yelled, pushing him away from you. "And get out of my room!" You couldn't believe the nerve of his guy. He had the audacity to tease you about a drunken kiss (mistake!) And how was pretending like he promised you something as ridiculous as that? Please! He just wanted more ammunition to tease you to no end, and you've had it. "That trick might work on some of the other girls but not me, fuck off." Scoffed, trying to shove him out your room but the lanky mother fucker was stronger than he looked. He grabbed your wrist, tugging you a hair's length away from his face. "Now why would you think I'm fucking with you?" He questioned, smile still plastered on his face. "You think I don't know how bad you want me?" He was so fucking full of himself. (he was hot but you would deny it until the day you died.) 

"I don't want you Gojo, shut up and get out." You huffed, waiting for him to leave. You couldn't push him out obviously. He chuckled, still not letting go of your wrist. "What if I want you?" Wait, what?

You must have said that out loud. "come on, baby. You're such a smart girl and yet you are so dense. Why do you think I always try to find you?" Your breathing hitched, looking away from his piercing blue eyes. "Because you're a fucking dick." Your voice was small, with no bite at all. His smile dropped a little, looking more sheepish and genuine now. "Yeah, Suguru always says that too. But I'm serious, come on pretty girl look at me." Pretty girl. You liked the way that sounded. Fuck. You glanced over at him, trying so hard not to turn your head but he wouldn't have any of that. His free hand grabbed at your jaw and turned you fully to him. "I know you just think I'm just some idiot frat guy." Sounds harsh when he said it, but he was right. You did think that. "But just give me a chance, yeah?" 

You head was spinning, you didn't know what the fuck was going on. Gojo Satoru, the self titled campus hot guy, in your room and admitting to... Well, you didn't know. Having a crush? On you? It was too much, he was too in your space. "Gojo, I don't think—" "Satoru" ... "What?" He sighed, letting go of you fully and looking down at your feet. "I want you to call me by my name. Satoru. Please baby, just let me hear it." He was pulling out all the stops wasn't he?

You sighed, rubbing your eyes. "Satoru, please" you begged "please stop fucking with me, I can't deal with this right now" you were so tired, and your walls were cracking. But you just couldn't believe him after being so cruel to you all semester. "Let me show you how serious I am then" and before you could question him or even look at him his lips were on you. A hand caressed the back of your head while the other rested on your waist. He moved slowly, deliberate, taking his time with the kiss. You were at a loss, not sure how you should react. It did feel nice. And it felt genuine. But you still weren't sure. He sighed, pulling back from you after you didn't react. "Fuck, I'm sorry this a mistake —" he started pulling away from you before you grabbed his face in both your hands. "Wait, Satoru" you started, and his lashes fluttered. "Say my name again, pretty girl." He basically pleaded with you, scared to raise his voice higher than a whisper. "Satoru... you can't fuck with me right now." He was getting frustrated, brows furrowing. "Baby please I'm not. You got me fucking begging out here." He laughed at himself, moving back to you with his hands where they were. "Just give me a chance."

And your lips were on him. You were nervous, that he was going to pull back and laugh in your face. Scared that he was going to go behind your back and talk shit to his fraternity brothers. Scared that he would go straight back to bullying you the way he had all semester. Or worse. Scared that he's just using you for a quick lay. You almost wanted to pull back at the thought alone. But the way he caressed you, the way he kissed you back with so much affection it was hard he would try this hard just for a quick laugh, or a quick fuck. He pulled you closer by your waist, deepening the kiss and nipping at your lower lip, silently asking for permission. You let him, opening your mouth just a bit to let Satoru slide his tongue into your mouth, moaning as he did so. The kiss got messier, spit pooling at the corners of your mouths.

"Fuck baby" he panted when he separated just enough to breathe. "Kissing you is better than I ever imagined" you whimpered, lips glossy. "You're so embarrassing." he chuckled at your words, nipping at your lower lip again. 

"Don't be shy with me pretty girl. Come on, let me hear you sing for me."

[ek-atherine]

Ink Manifestation (Satoru Gojo x Reader): Chapter Eight

Satoru and I were sitting on the steps leading up to the main building, enjoying a rare moment of peace between missions. The atmosphere was tranquil, a stark contrast to the usual chaos of our lives.

Satoru leaned back, resting on his elbows, his blindfold pushed up to reveal his striking blue eyes. He looked relaxed, almost contemplative. I found myself stealing glances at him, he didn’t show his eyes much anymore, so it was nice to see them when I could.

"You know," Satoru said, breaking the comfortable silence, "we don't get moments like this often."

I nodded, feeling a blush creeping up my cheeks. "Yeah, it's nice to have a break."

Satoru turned to look at me, his eyes locking onto mine. There was something different in his gaze, a softness that I rarely saw. "I've been meaning to talk to you about something, (Y/n)."

My breath hitched, anticipation and nerves swirling within me. "What is it, Satoru?"

He hesitated for a moment as if choosing his words carefully. "It's just that... well, with everything we go through, I realized that there are some things I don't want to leave unsaid."

I felt my heart skip a beat. "Like what?"

Satoru's gaze softened even more, and he opened his mouth to speak, but suddenly, both of us stiffened. A familiar, dark energy rippled through the barrier around the school. We knew this aura all too well.

"Suguru," Satoru said, his voice tense. The peaceful moment shattered instantly.

I stood up, my senses on high alert. "He's here."

Satoru was already on his feet, the casual demeanor gone, replaced by the intensity of the strongest sorcerer, meaning his blindfold was being put back on. "We need to move. Now."

We raced towards the source of the disturbance, the earlier conversation forgotten. As we approached the school's outer perimeter, we saw Suguru Geto preaching his ridiculous beliefs to our students, more specifically Yuta, their backs turned to us. So that’s what he wanted, the cursed spirit Rika.

“Do me a favor,” Satoru called out to Suguru, who turned his head to look at us. My heart dropped when I saw his face again. “Could you please stop preaching your crazy beliefs to my students?”

“(Y/n)! Satoru! Long time no see!” Suguru said, faking a smile towards us. My eyebrow twitched in annoyance. A bunch of other high-grade sorcerers gathered where they sensed Suguru as well, including Yaga, whose knuckles I could hear cracking in preparation.

“Step away from the kids right now, Suguru,” I ordered, my voice firm.

Suguru smirked at me. “I heard this new first-year class is simply outstanding. Seems it’s true, you two still have an eye for talent. A special-grade cursed human, a cursed corpse mutation, a cursed speech user. And last, the Zen’in clan’s biggest failure.”

My eyes widened as I growled in anger, feeling my ink gather toward my hands, ready to strike at Suguru. But Satoru placed his hand on my shoulder, and I sighed, trying to relax. He was right.

“You piece of shit!” Maki yelled, pointing her weapon at Suguru, who didn’t flinch in the slightest.

“You better watch that mouth of yours. Because I don’t need any monkeys like you in the world that I’m creating.” Suguru threatened her. 

“I swear to God, Satoru, I’m gonna kill him,” I whispered to him. Yuta then tossed Suguru’s hand off his shoulders.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t really understand anything you’re talking about, but I can’t help anyone who insults my friends! So count me out!” Yuta yelled at Suguru.

Suguru sighed in clear annoyance at Yuta’s answer but quickly put on a false smile once again. “I apologize, I didn’t come here to insult you or your friends,” Suguru explained.

Satoru stepped in between Yuta and Suguru while I moved behind Yuta, slightly pulling him away from the two to protect him, my eyes never leaving Suguru. “That’s good to know. Then why exactly did you come here?” Satoru asked.

“I came to declare war,” Suguru answered, his tone chillingly calm. The words hung in the air, heavy and ominous. “Everyone gathered here today, I want you all to open your ears and listen closely. On December 24th, when the sun sets, we shall begin the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons. At the crucible of curses, Shinjuku, Tokyo, as well as the holy land of jujutsu, Kyoto. A thousand curses will be unleashed upon each place. All with the command, massacre. If you wish to avoid a scene straight from hell, come do your best to stop it. Let us freely curse each other to the death.”

One of the young girls accompanying Suguru then yelled out, glancing at her phone. “Mr. Geto! The cafe is gonna close!”

“Oh, is it that late already?” Suguru asked her, then turned his attention back to Satoru. “You know how it is, don’t you? These girls just have to get their favorite crepes from Takeshita Street. I’ll be taking my leave now.”

“Did you really think we would just let you leave?” I asked, my voice steady but laced with anger as Suguru walked back toward his group.

“Careful, (Y/n),” Suguru warned. A huge cursed spirit emerged from the ground in front of him, a cyclopean monstrosity. Satoru placed his hand protectively in front of Yuta while I stood back, hand outstretched, ready to react if needed.

“Your precious students are well within my range,” Suguru reminded me. Lower-class curses appeared near the students, their presence amplifying the tension. My eyes narrowed as Suguru continued to walk away carelessly.

“Goodbye, everybody. See you at the war,” Suguru said, mounting the cursed spirit bird with his group and leaving us with a looming sense of dread.

[allzelemonz]

Misadventures: Micah Bell X Male Reader

Fictober Prompt: Day 30, Failed Date Pronouns: None Mentioned, Reader referred to as ‘man’ Physical Sex: None Mentioned Rating: T/Language, mention of injury Warnings: Fluff, romance, date, picnic, kissing, mention of violence and injury, Micah trying his best Summary: Micah plans a date to make up for being a bad sweetheart, only for things to turn on him all at once.

It’s gonna be fine. Everything’s gonna work out. Two things Micah seems incapable of convincing himself of. He has the stupid basket and blanket set up, he has the dumb little flower, he’s dressed himself in his cleanest clothes. The whole night should be prefect, annoyingly romantic.

And yet he’s still nervous when he watches you approach on your horse.

He waits by Wallace Station, Baylock impatiently digging into the dirt under him. His hands are sweaty, his face is probably red. He’s been messing with his guns, cleaning and spinning in an effort to calm himself down, but he wants this to be perfect and the nerves won’t stop. He wants to prove that he can do things like this. He can be sappy and soft, he can care. This is the proof, all the proof he needs to convince you after he screwed up last week.

You stall your horse a few feet away, a smile on your face that only makes Micah more nervous. “You gonna show me what you’ve been obsessing over the past few days now?”

Micah makes a smirk form on his face, trying to hide the shake in his hands as he holsters his revolver. “That I am, darlin’. Been waitin’ a looong time.”

You shake your head with a smile at his teasing tone. “Better be good after the shit you pulled.”

“Told ya, that weren’t my fault.” He clears his throat. “That honor goes to Morgan, not me.”

“I got shot, Micah.”

His heart thunders in his chest. He knows he screwed up and he’s been agonizing over it the whole time he’s been planning everything. After you got hit in the firefight, he didn’t rush to help the way a sweetheart should and he didn’t spend nearly as much time doting on you as he should have, instead allowing Miss Grimshaw to take care of you. He should have insisted, he should have been there.

“‘m sorry, cowpoke.” He sighs. “Ya just gotta let me make it up to ya.”

You lean forward in your saddle, raising an eyebrow expectantly.

Micah grins, spurring Baylock forward. It’s a short distance to the nice little spot on a ridge where he set things up. He stalls just by the tree line, hitching Baylock and stopping you before you can get too far.

“Gotta close yer eyes, cowboy, better as a surprise.”

“You’re ridiculous.” You mutter, but close your eyes all the same.

Micah grins to himself, taking your hand and carefully walking you forward. A few steps in, he has to catch you when you nearly trip on a tree root.

“Shit, shoulda seen that.” He mutters. “Sorry, darlin’.”

A few steps more and he stops on the edge of the blanket. He quietly shoos some rabbits away that were trying to mooch and situates himself so he thinks he look presentable.

“Go on, cowpoke, open ‘em.”

He watches as your eyes meet his then travel down to the little picnic. Nerves bundle together, making his stomach hurt in the silence that follows.

“It’s nice, Micah.” You smile, looking back up at him. “A good start.”

He smirks. “Who said I couldn’t be the romance type?”

You shake your head, sitting down on the blanket. He settles next to you and pulls out a couple of fresh fruits and such he managed to get. Lastly he gets your favorite drink with a grin, handing it to you expectantly.

“So you do listen on occasion.”

He scoffs. “I listen just fine, cowpoke.”

For a while he just watches you enjoy yourself. The sparkle in your eyes, the way the sun hits your skin, he could stare forever. But he remembers the flower, the classic gesture. He felt a bit weird buying a pretty looking flower for a man, but it's the thing sweethearts do.

“Got ya somethin’ else.” He smiles. “An’ I don’t wanna hear ya complainin’ about it bein’ girly er nothin’.”

He pulls out the flower, holding it forward only to see broken pedals and a droopy stem. It’s been crushed.

“Oh, Micah…” He hears the pity in your voice and it makes his face burn.

“Just take the damn thing.”

You do take it, holding it carefully between your hands. He knows you’re laughing at him, you have to be. He’s an idiot that didn’t think about the flower getting crushed in his jacket pocket. Worse than Williamson at this rate. With a glance down, his world is crushed even more when he sees ants have overtaken the fruits.

“Shit.” He mutters, trying to shoo them away.

Just as he manages to clear the last of them off, a once sunny day curses Micah Bell III with a sudden rain. He looks up as if glaring at the deity he doesn’t believe in before he sighs and slumps a bit. Everything is fucked, nothing has gone right.

He expects you to hate him, to belittle him, but he’s surprised by your hand on his cheek. You tilt his head up, pressing your lips to his. Micah’s heart flutters at the feeling, happy to be kissing you after so long going without. You always feel so good against him. When you pull back you rest your head against his with a bit of a smile on your face.

“Let’s find a homestead to rob and stay the night, okay?”

Micah nods, transfixed by the fact that his failure of an attempt at romance hasn’t phased you. “Yeah, cowpoke… sounds just perfect.”

[seramilla]

I think Clara would blames herself for Odette getting hurt. I mean Clara was the original target after all and the only reason Clara isn’t in Odette’s place or worse was because Odette was there that day. Clara feeling guilty that Odette got hurt because Odette had to save her and feeling like it’s her fault. Clara probably tries to just push those feelings down, hide how she feels but clara was never good with hiding her feelings from people she cares about

(For the attempted murder angst request)

It's been months since Odette's "accident." She's more than recovered enough to go back to work, with some lifting restrictions, according to Belphegor. She's fully capable of doing the rest of her job without assistance. But even so, Clara rarely leaves her side when she's in the office. It's starting to impede on Clara's own role, which is testing the designs that Odette makes. Never has she been babysat by her little sister before. She knows Clara means well, but it's starting to grate on her nerves just a little.

Clara holds doors open for her. Makes sure she's wearing her protective equipment before welding or soldering. Keeps bringing her water, even when Odette says she's not thirsty anymore. Stands guard whenever they make their way to the cafeteria for lunch. Odette loves her sister. Really, she does. But she's seen more of her in the last few months than she has in the last several years. It's starting to get ridiculous. The final straw comes when Clara demands to walk Odette home. Every night. For the foreseeable future. This time, the older sibling has had it.

"Clara, would you just stop?!" Odette cries out, turning on a dime to face her sister. Clara's arms are full, because she'd also insisted on carrying their things home by herself. "I'm fine! Look! See!" She pulls her lab coat and shirt up, exposing the fading stitches on her abdomen and hip. The marks from angelic weapons are still there. They will not fade with time like a regular injury, but they are more than healed enough for Odette's liking.

Clara jolts, surprised by her sister's outburst. Odette has rarely yelled at her before. Not since they were kids. Especially not for something like this. She falls back, cowering at her sister's demonic features starting to show through. Odette sees the uncertainty in her eyes, and pulls herself back together quickly.

"Clar, I'm sorry," Odette says, reaching out her hand for her sister's shoulder, but Clara flinches. "I didn't mean to yell at you. I know you're just trying to help. But you've got to let me have some breathing room, okay? This is bordering on obsession."

Clara is crying now. Openly and unabashed. Shit, Odette thinks. What have I done?

"I know, 'Dette," Clara says, starting to sob. "But I can't stop thinking how it should have been me in that hospital bed, not you! You've always protected me, our entire lives. And the one time I could have protected you, taken the hit for you, I failed! What kind of sister am I?"

Clara collapses onto the sidewalk. All the items in her arms fall out of her hands, splayed haphazardly across soiled concrete. Odette doesn't care; immediately her older sibling instincts kick in. She's at Clara's side in the blink of an eye, holding her around the shoulder, letting the younger woman sob into the pristine fabric of her lab coat.

"Clara, look at me," Odette implores, lifting her sister's chin to meet her gaze. Hot tears stream down her sister's face, and Odette wipes them away. "None of this is your fault, sweetie. I just...I didn't even think. I saw you in danger, and I acted on it. My instincts kicked in, and it all happened so fast. That's what family does. You've pulled me out of a lot of scraps before, remember? You've kicked so much angel ass out on the battlefield."

Clara sniffles, wiping the ugly snot away from her nose. She really is still her baby sister, Odette realizes. "I know, 'Dette!" Clara exclaims. "But the one time it really mattered, I couldn't protect you. I wasn't strong enough!"

"Hey," Odette says, putting her forehead to Clara's. Clara's eyelashes brush the skin of her face, and it's a small comfort. "You're always strong enough. You're so strong; way stronger than me. You acted fast, and got me to Mom and Bel. I'm only still here because of you, Clar...you saved me."

With that, Clara buries her face into her sister's coat, soaking the coarse fabric with her tears. Odette thinks her coat is really going to be ruined this time, but she doesn't care. It's the furthest thing form her mind. She holds Clara there on the open street for several minutes. She'll do it for as long as it takes. Clara saved her life, after all. She owes her little sister that; she owes her everything, and so much more.

[diacripticcomplex]

Please can I have Yui x shin smut? (Sorry if I didn’t do this right)

Shin's POV:

What am I to do with her? Killing her would be too easy, would completely ruin the point of this punishment, my brother would urge me to lock her up and maybe have her whipped for this discretion, however I wanted to do something more detrimental. Watching her right now, all cornered with nowhere to run off to, no one will save her. "It's not what you think..!" she had the nerve to even try to defend herself. "It's rather too late to be trying that now, don't you think?" I say, laughing a bit, it was ridiculous she's so silly, she does have this impact on me. Her stupidness makes me laugh uncontrollably sometimes too. I think I came up with a solution to this ordeal, I will humiliate her in front of her previous owners since she allowed them to plague her with their disgusting bites. I summoned one of our familiars to get me a dog collar and leash. "What are you doing with tha-" she began to question, as is her way but I cut her off by grabbing her by the throat, bringing her for a messy sloppy kiss, making sure she practically suffocates. While she's melting in my kisses I take this opportunity to wrap and lock in the collar and leash.

I don't think she realizes cause she's still craving my kisses and moaning slightly into them, if I wasn't so pissed at her I'd gladly give her some good loving. But I am pissed. I yanked the leash so hard to push her away from me, she yelped in shock, it was rather enticing. Hm, how to humiliate her some more. I tear her clothing off her, leaving only her underwear and bra. They were white and boring looking, perhaps staining them with her blood would look nicer. I use my nails to scratch her deeply, smearing the blood on her butt and breasts. my handprint was nice and visible, in her attempts to protest during this I yanked her down to my boots. I spat on her face and told her to lick my boots clean. Now if she does it, that is honestly insane but I want to see the limits of her humility, how much can this stupid silly girl take?

"Shin, I can't do that..please don't make me.." she made that unhappy face of hers, I kicked her down as a result and then dragged her all the way to the shit smelling Sakamaki Manor, it was very cold outside, she honestly might get that human illness from this cold, I forgot the name of it but my brother knows what it is called, he studied the human body and mind while we were imprisoned, he doesn't like to admit it but he is fascinated by these weak creatures.

We made it to the manor, entering was no issue; these weak sub species don't have proper locks. "Oi you disgusting bastards, show yourselves!" I shouted. "...Shut up, you're so loud." the laziest bastard had the audacity to say, I laughed at this. " I'll show you who's loud." I state looking right at her, I was going to violate her right in front of all these smelling scums. "What the hell are you doing here?" the one named after a car brand asked me, then his eyes looked down at the situation his former prey was in. "What the fuck did you do to her..!" His shouting caused the lazy one to open his eyes. "Heh...looks like the slut got what she wanted..who cares.." he said, not a care in the world, I wish I had that type of attitude, I feel like I care too much sometimes. "This is highly irregular, why are you here?" The tall glasses one asked. "I'm waiting for all you bastards to get down here so I can show you all something." I state, glaring right at him. Soon enough the troubled triplets who I was related to came down. "What the hell is going on?" the annoying red headed one stated. I smirked at his question then yanked the leash once more, bringing her super close to me. I started to unbuckle my belt and take out my piece, which I had no issue with. I was proud of this piece and urinated on her in front of them. "What in the world...Why is he peeing on her!?" the Purple haired crybaby asked. "She seems like it~ Little bitch really is heartless" the perverted one moaned out, but regardless they all looked at me with such shock and unhappiness in their eyes, I quite literally enjoyed that, more than that her beaten face and body were getting me hard. I decided to defile her right there, she protested the whole time but that just enthralled me even more. These Sakamaki bastards knew not to interfere, she was no longer their slave, just mine.

[dangertoozmanykids101]

Toozmanykids Writing Prompt

OMG. I am laughing so hard that I don't even remember why I opened YouTube this morning in the first place. This John Mulaney short automatically started playing and immediately I knew it had to be a Writing Prompt for today. Right??? At least a drabble?

Here. I'll start.

Unfortunately, no smut. It was going to be quick and funny quips at each other, yet I don't think it turned out that way by the time I got done. BUT AT LEAST THIS PROMPT GOT ME WRITING! RIGHT? Now it's your turn, y'all!

SUMMARY: No smut. Just Avengers getting on each other's nerves. Not as funny as it should've been. Damnit.

No warnings.

Word count: 730

Do you believe in ghosts?

The Quinjet had been circling for hours a ways off shore, low to the water to avoid detection, while two dozen of Tony's surveillance drones quietly searched miles of coastline for the mission's target. Four friendly neighborhood Avengers waited patientły impatiently aboard, going stir crazy quicker than anyone would admit.

The silence was thick and tense, but far more preferable to the alternative.

"Hey Mr. Stark—"

"Don't. Just don't," Tony cut off the eager new Avenger. The other two passengers groaned at the sound of Peter's voice. Again.

"But—"

"I swear if you ask me one more 'Would You Rather...?' question, I will rip Charlotte's Web right out of your insides, wrap you up into a perfect spider snack, and feed you to that starving pig."

"Geezus, Tony. Wilbur would never have eaten Charlotte," Natasha pretended to placate Tony, not even attempting to hide her smirk.

"No. No. It's not another 'Would You Rather...?' question, I promise. I got that message loud and clear the second time Miss Romanoff held a blade to my throat." Peter's hand travelled up to his throat while his other waved at Tony in surrender.

Natasha gave Peter a tiny wink when he glanced over his shoulder and offered her a sheepish and awkward smile.

"I told you, she doesn't joke when she's holding a knife," Tony cautioned again.

"Yes, she does! All the time."

"The kid's right, Tony," Natasha admitted. "I prefer to stay unpredictable."

"So Mr. Stark," Peter quickly changed the subject, still gently rubbing his neck. "Do you believe in ghosts?"

"Of course I do," Tony answered without hesitation or even a glance away from the computer screen.

"Seriously? Even after all we've seen?" Peter moved forward, leaning closer to Tony.

Natasha spun her chair to face Tony and gave him her full attention as well. "Yeah, Tony. Seriously?"

"Especially after all we've seen. I'm surprised at you two. How can you not?"

"Have you ever seen a ghost, Mr. Stark?"

"That's a ridiculous question," still not looking away from his computer screen.

"Why is it ridiculous? Have you?"

"Oh damn," slamming his hands onto his knees. "I knew I was forgetting something. I'm so sorry." Sitting up straighter, Tony turned his chair toward the back of the jet and shouted, "Hey Manchurian Candidate! I guess I never properly introduced you to the team."

In the far back end of the jet, camouflaged within the shadows wearing all black combat armor, the fourth passenger hadn't said a single word since boarding. He sat slouched in his seat, arms crossed over his chest, and knees spread wide above huge heavy black steel tipped boots polished to a shine, reflecting the only light in the tailend to infiltrate his shadows. His face was hidden by shaggy brown hair and a well worn baseball cap pulled down low.

"Baby Spider and the Spider Queen are your chippy little cohorts today if we ever spot this asshole and can touch down. Spidey friends, may I present our very own paranormal soldier, Sergeant Bucky Barnes."

"High-fucking-larious, Stark. Now fuck off," Bucky grumbled, pulling the bill of his hat even farther down over his face to look like he was napping.

"Holy shit! I didn't even know he was on board. How did I not sense him?" Peter shouted.

"That's my point, kid," Tony said. "He must be a ghost. Think about it. There's no other answer. He's straight up Jacob Marley, but missing the heavy chains with a door knocker for a nose."

They all burst into laughter - all but Bucky who grumbled some more.

After about an hour or so, Peter walked to the back of the jet and cautiously sat down next to Bucky.

The soldier didn't say anything; he didn't move; he didn't even look to be breathing.

Leaning toward him, Peter softly asked him, "You're not really a ghost, are you sir?"

"I have no idea," Bucky answered flatly and with finality.

Peter's eyes widened, more unsure of his beliefs after that cryptic non-answer than he was before he asked.

"Oh... Yes, sir," Peter said as he retreated back to his chair next to Tony.

Silence hung heavily in the Quinjet after that.

Finally.

Bucky gave Natasha a wink at one point when their eyes met. Eventually Peter would ask more questions, but they enjoyed the silence as long as it lasted.

The End.

It's a new year, and I'm going to be push myself harder to actually post. Good, bad, stupid, or slutty - I'm gonna post stuff anyway. This will be the year of drabbles, false starts, unfinished stories, and plots that go nowhere.

JUST WRITE AND POST, TOOZ!

JUST WRITE AND POST—OFTEN!

My drabble here didn't turn out the way I had planned, but I can see this idea take a fun turn if Bucky actually is a ghost. He could be!!!

He could be trapped on Earth and tethered to his super soldier body that won't decay. At least MOST of the missions Hydra sent him on were to kill other bad guys. Right?

Tony had some other theories too. But it's 3am and now I don't remember what his theory was. Grrrrr.

Anyone else looking for some inspiration?

@nildespirandum @ladyoftheteaandblood @caffiend-queen @redfoxwritesstuff @so-easy-to-love-me @acidcasualties @americasass81 @jtargaryen18 @alexakeyloveloki @devikafernando @spectre-posts @wiypt-writes @nonsensicalobsessions @latent-thoughts @mastreworld @talklokitome @wolfsmom1 @lokisgoodgirl @lokischambermaid @holymultiplefandomsbatman @muddyorbs @fictive-sl0th @villainousshakespeare @liminalpebble @jobean12-blog

I really hope to post more this year. I'm serious. AND I'll do an actual tag list. Please confirm if you want to see my stuff or prefer that I leave you alone. You are not required to listen to my drivel for me to still love reading from your blog. I promise. Honest. Just let me know.

[steddieas-shegoes]

if you're still accepting requests, what about t4t lesbian steddie? them having their First Ever Girls' Night together, maybe they're not even dating yet bc they don't want to risk the friendship with like. the one other person in The Whole World (small town indiana) who gets them. much pining and trans joy ensues.

-stevieharringtonwifeguy (it's a sideblog so i can't send an ask from there, but if you do end up doing something with this please tag me, not sure how anonymous asks work with notifications)

AHHH THIS ONE MADE ME NERVOUS. For one, and I know it makes no fucking sense because I have never lived the experience of a gay man, but I have never lived the experience of a trans person and for some reason my brain was like, you don't get to write this experience. But then I said, these are fictional characters, that you write even more fictional things about, and what the hell is the harm in trying to write an authentic small town t4t lesbian experience for these two. So @stevieharringtonwifeguy I really hope I did this justice, and that the wait was worth it. I also admit part of the reason I've been so incredibly nervous was that I haven't read more than a handful of ficlets with t4t Steddie, but after this I would LOVE some recommendations for more. Thank you so much for sending this! - Mickala ❤️

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“Oh. Okay. Well, that’s okay. Em and I can still have fun,” Stevie said, voice only slightly shaky despite her sudden nerves.

“Sorry, I swear if I didn’t have a fever, I’d still be there,” Robin said over the phone.

“Feel better, Robs.”

Stevie hung up with her best friend, letting out a sigh and leaning her head against the table.

“Everything okay, Stevie?” Em asked from the doorway.

It was supposed to be girls night, Em’s first with Robin and Stevie, and now Robin was stuck in bed with the flu.

Not a great start.

Stevie and Em had spent hardly any time alone since Robin first introduced them. It wasn’t for any particular reason, it’s just that Stevie was really cautious about who she got close to, and it seemed Em was the same way.

But now they were having an entire night alone. Together. Alone.

Did she say alone yet? No one else would be there.

This was only a big deal because she had the biggest, most ridiculous crush on Em.

How could she not? She was fucking beautiful, and fun, and kind, and entertaining, and perfect.

It may be more than a crush.

But Em wasn’t into women, or at least that's what Robin said.

That she’d asked her out once after band practice senior year and Em said that she didn’t date girls.

So Stevie had to let it go the best she could and just try to welcome her to the group.

“It’s okay. Robin’s sick. Can’t come,” Stevie said against her arm.

“Oh. Do you want me to go?”

“What?” Stevie sat up, eyes wide and sad.

“You just seemed like you might not wanna do it anymore without her?”

“No! That’s not it. I’m just a little bummed, but we can still have fun,” Stevie tried changing her tone so it was full of more excitement.

“Oh. Good,” Em smiled at her shyly.

Em wasn’t usually very shy around Robin. Others, sure, but never when Robin was around.

Their plans tonight were pretty simple: paint nails, watch movies, eat candy, sleep.

But Robin was supposed to be bringing the candy, so Stevie was gonna have to improvise a bit.

She stood up from the table and walked to her cabinets, her mostly empty cabinets, and started rummaging through. There had to be some kind of decent snacks.

“I could run to the store and grab something?” Em offered as she watched Stevie push things around in her cabinets, clearly struggling to find a decent snack.

“We could make an actual dinner? I have spaghetti,” Stevie hesitantly suggested.

Em smiled and nodded.

“I love spaghetti.”

Stevie smiled and pulled out a pot to fill with water. She set it on the stove to boil and then searched for the jar of sauce she knew was in the cabinet by the fridge.

“Shit. Where is it?”

“I can help,” Em said, coming up behind Stevie and placing her hand on her back.

Stevie tried to cover the shiver that ran down her back, but couldn’t quite manage it.

“Are you cold?” Em asked, concern in her voice and on her face.

“No! I’m okay. I’ll get some of the other stuff I need if you wanna look for the sauce. It’s uh, red?”

Em smirked.

“I’ll do my best.”

They continued on their separate tasks, until Em finally let out a loud “ah-ha!” and held up the jar of sauce.

She brought it over to Stevie, proud smile lighting up her face.

She was so beautiful, Stevie let herself bask in it for a moment. She couldn’t help it with the way Em just glowed.

Em cleared her throat, giving Stevie a nervous smile.

“Okay?” She asked.

“Oh! Yes. Thank you for finding this,” Stevie rushed to say, grabbing the jar from her and turning back to the pot she’d grabbed to heat the sauce and add her secret ingredients.

She could feel Em watching her, and instead of making her nervous like it should, it made her want to show off.

Stevie was a great cook, though she never did it unless it was for the kids she babysits or Robin.

“Do you want any help? I don’t wanna get in the way,” Em said, her face slightly pink.

Stevie didn’t need help, she could handle it easily, but having Em help her cook sounded like the kind of domestic fantasy she’d been picturing for almost a year now.

“Sure. You wanna add the pasta to the water first and then I’ll have you stir the sauce for a second?”

Em quickly followed her instructions as Stevie measured out some honey, brown sugar, and cayenne pepper to add to the sauce.

“Can I ask you something kind of…well, really personal? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” Em said nervously.

“Sure,” Stevie responded with a comforting smile.

She was used to personal questions from the kids. They meant well, and they were just curious, but sometimes they asked the wildest shit.

“How did you pick your name?”

Stevie didn’t expect that one. Not because she’d never been asked about it before, but because her name was so close to her birth name, most people just assumed she didn’t put much thought into it.

“I actually picked it because of a boy I spent most of my time with at summer camp when I was little. We were inseparable there, did everything together. I told him that sometimes I didn’t really feel like a boy, and that I knew I liked girls, but didn’t know why I wanted to be one sometimes. He started calling me Stevie and it just stuck. He was my best friend there for years until he just stopped coming. The next summer I ended up starting my transition and it just made sense to go by Stevie.”

Em was quiet. She stirred the ingredients into the sauce as Stevie spoke, not commenting when she was done.

“I don’t know what happened to him. Nobody at the camp knew.”

Em turned to Stevie with a frown.

“Nobody knew because Wayne made sure it was a secret. Even told the school that I was his niece he never knew about and his nephew had moved back home.”

Stevie’s brows furrowed in confusion.

“Wayne was Eddie’s uncle…”

“Yeah…”

Em and Stevie stared at each other, until it dawned on Stevie what she was saying.

“Oh my god. It was you.”

The realization made Stevie let out a sob.

“I cried for a week straight the summer you didn’t show. They almost sent me home,” Stevie said, resisting the urge to throw herself at Em. She’d missed their friendship for years. “The counselor in my cabin tried calling Wayne even to find out where you were.”

Em’s eyes glistened with unshed tears.

“I’m sorry. I knew how to contact you, but I got scared. I didn’t want you to think I was doing anything to like, compete with you? I dunno. It’s stupid now. No one, especially not you, would think that,” Em rambled.

Stevie put down the dishes she was pulling from the cabinet and turned to Em.

“When I told my parents I was a lesbian, they asked about ‘that boy from camp’ and asked why I had to be trans and gay, like either of those things are a choice. I’m trying to imagine what the hell they would say about ‘that girl from camp.’”

“Well, she didn’t know she was a girl yet at camp. Not really.”

“But she was, whether she knew it or not.”

They were staring at each other, blush on both their cheeks.

“You wanna go pick a movie?” Stevie finally asked, trying to get a second of space so she could process everything.

“Sure.”

The moment Em left the kitchen, Stevie let out a shaky breath.

Everything made sense. The way she was drawn to Em so quickly, the way that even with her shyness, they got along so well. The way her wide eyes seemed familiar, but she couldn’t quite place them now that she wore mascara and eyeliner.

Stevie had loved Em before she was Em, it only made sense she loved her now.

She could hear Em turning on Netflix, the volume of the tv just loud enough to hear the opening notes on the welcome screen.

She drained the pasta, and placed some on the plates she’d just gotten down. She added a couple scoops of the sauce on top and sprinkled some Parmesan cheese over it all.

She brought the plates to the living room and smiled when she saw Em getting comfortable on the sofa.

“Your dinner, your majesty,” Stevie said dramatically, handing over the plate.

“Why thank you, chef,” Em replied just as dramatically.

Stevie sat down on the couch next to her, mixing the sauce around on the plate to evenly coat the noodles.

“I’m glad you got to be who you always felt like you were, Stevie,” Em said quietly. “I’m sorry I disappeared.”

“Hey, it’s okay. I get it. I’m glad you get to be Em now.”

“Yeah, me too.”

They smiled at each other fondly, then turned back to the movie and ate their dinner in silence.

It was 13 Going On 30, which had been one of Stevie’s favorites on movie night at camp.

Em remembered.

But Stevie couldn’t possibly say anything about it, it would give her feelings away in a second.

When they were both done eating, Em took the dishes to the kitchen to wash them and Stevie went to the bathroom to grab her nail polish collection.

But the mood had shifted a bit when they both made it back to the couch.

“I’m pretty tired,” Em sighed, curling up against the pillow on the end of the couch.

“I could paint your nails for you if you want? You can rest,” Stevie offered.

It may have been slightly selfish to offer at this point, but she would take what she could get.

Em gave her a soft smile and nodded.

“What color?” Stevie asked as she held out the basket.

“Surprise me. I trust you,” Em said as her eyes closed and she moved her hands out so Stevie had access to her nails.

“Oh. Okay.”

Stevie watched her for a moment, the way she relaxed into the couch, completely trusting Stevie to pick a color, paint her nails, and let her sleep.

Stevie found a dark red, nearly maroon, that she’d only used once and decided she didn’t like it with her skin tone, but knew it would work for Em.

She got started, focusing intently on making sure she didn’t get any on her skin, and going through two coats and a clear coat to make sure it stays fresh for at least a few days.

She leaned over to start gently blowing on them so they would dry faster.

When she looked up, Em’s eyes were open and she was giving her a sleepy smile.

“Thanks, Stevie,” Em whispered.

“Like the color?”

“Mhm. ‘S pretty, like you,” Em said before closing her eyes again.

What.

“What?”

Stevie couldn’t pull away or look away or stop her thoughts from racing.

Em didn’t date girls, that’s what she’d told Robin.

Then again, that was two years ago, when they were still in high school.

And maybe she’d said it to protect herself.

Hawkins wasn’t exactly a queer friendly space, that’s why Stevie had to be extremely careful during her transition, and why Em and Wayne had probably just straight up lied about hers.

But still.

Stevie gently placed Em’s hands down against the couch, hoping she wouldn’t move too much since they were still slightly wet.

She got up and ran to her room, furiously texting Robin.

Robin wasn’t answering but that didn’t stop her from sending a million texts.

She was damn close to a panic attack when she heard shuffling in the hall.

“Stevie? You awake?” Em asked outside her door.

“Uh, yeah. Come in!”

No! Stupid! You’re having a fucking crisis, don’t tell her to come in!

But she was in the room already, tired but concerned when she saw the way Stevie was rocking back and forth on her bed.

“What’s wrong?” Em asked as she sat down on the edge of the bed.

“Nothing. Just kind of tired.”

“You look strung out.”

“I’m fine.”

“Stevie-“ Em cut herself off with a shake of her head. “I’m sorry you found out like this. I should’ve told you earlier.”

“No, I get it. It’s okay. It’s not up to anyone but you who to tell and when, ya know? It’s your story, you’re the author, if you don’t wanna write it for others, then don’t.”

Em was smirking.

“That is word for word what Robin told me when I came out to her.”

Shit. Yeah, she’d given her that speech, too.

“You know, she asked me on a date once,” Em continued, scooting closer to Stevie in bed.

“I know.”

“I turned her down.”

“Yeah. You said you didn’t date girls.”

“That’s not what I said.”

Stevie watched as Em reached a hand out to cover Stevie’s knee.

“I said that I didn’t date girls who I couldn’t completely relate to,” Em said with a small smile. “You know what I mean?”

Stevie felt her body relax.

Em only dated trans women. It made sense.

“So like…”

“Stevie, I’ve been so fucking in love with you for so long, I don’t even think any other woman would have a chance in hell.”

Oh.

Okay.

“Can I kiss you?” Stevie managed to ask, despite her nerves and shock at the turn of events.

“Thought you’d never ask, sweetheart.”

When Stevie leaned in to kiss her, she knew this was one of those life altering moments, one of those events that happens and your entire life plan course corrects to completely revolve around this person, this thing happening.

When their lips met, Stevie knew she’d waited for this.

That anyone else she’d managed to kiss over the years couldn’t even be put on the same list as Em. That no matter what happened with them long term, she would never love anyone quite like she loved Em.

And with the way Em smiled into the kiss that neither of them wanted to pull away from, she seemed to think the same.

[awkwardtickleetoo]

The Very Squirmy Superstar

2 fics back to back holy shit that's pretty awesome isn't it

this is a sequel to this fic with ler!freddy and lee!dream, only this time it's george's turn instead!!

and, in case anyone was curious, I have a couple (2 or 3, most likely) more dnf + fnaf fics planned for the (hopefully near) future, so if anyone likes this one and is interested in that kinda thing keep an eye out for it!! and if anyone has any ideas that I maybe haven't figured out my inbox is always open to talk about/suggest that stuff :)

but either way, let's get on with the fic

lee!george, ler!freddy (he's back!!), 4k words exactly :o

enjoy!

--

"Wait, what?!" George shouted after Freddy as he ran away, not turning around to pay him any mind. George leaned forward to let his eyes follow the bear, pushing his legs out straight in front of him, careful not to disturb Dream's head where he was still laying on his lap. "That's not fair, you can't do that! Freddy?! Come back and say you were joking! FREDDY!" George continued to yell until he no longer heard the metallic clanging of footsteps in his ear, meaning Freddy was almost certainly too far away to hear him anymore. George sighed and let his shoulders fall back until they hit the wall behind him again, looking down at Dream. "This is ridiculous, there's no way, right?"

The younger boy slowly sat up, running his fingers through his hair and looking at George as well.

"Hm?" He hummed, requesting confirmation, as he gently rested his temple on George's shoulder and pulled George's hand back into his grip. He fidgeted with George's fingers, pulling one knee up to his chest and leaving his other leg that was closer to George laying straight out next to his as well. He chuckled at the difference in where his leg ended compared to George's, then chuckled again when he looked down at their fingers and did the same thing, before curling George's fingers into a fist and cupping both his hands around it. "There's no way what?"

"Like…" George started, biting his bottom lip when he felt butterflies in his stomach, suddenly very aware of what exactly Freddy had threatened. "Like there's– like, he's not serious, right? He's not… he's not gonna actually… do it, is he?" He explained, looking over at Dream, pushing through the nerves in his chest. He mirrored Dream's position, pulling his outer leg up to his chest and tossing his inner leg's ankle over Dream's shin, watching him smile at the action. George tapped his foot on the ground as he waited for Dream's response.

"I mean… why wouldn't he?" Dream said with a chuckle, the residual flush on his cheeks still present around where his smile created lines on his soft face. "If he did it to me, I don't see why he wouldn't do it to you too?"

"Okay, well, he had a reason to do it to you!"

"He has a reason to do it to you too, George," Dream explained softly, pressing his palms tighter to George's fist to try to crack his knuckles.

"No he does not! What the hell do you mean?!"

"You were being a dick, to be fair." Dream took George's other hand, curling his fingers into a fist and pressing on his knuckles to crack them again.

"I was NOT being a dick, you were being a dick!"

"WH- literally how!?"

"You were so scared of Freddy even though he's been nothing but nice–"

"I am sorry to interrupt," a sudden, reverberating voice broke both of the boys from their argument, making them both stop short and look up at the large, animated bear standing in front of them again. He was holding two bottles of water, reaching down to hand one to Dream, who gladly took it from him. He took a few steps to the left of all of them, placing the second one on top of a charging station to be brought back around later. "They are fresh from the cases in Customer Service, so they should be clean and refreshing. Good for little kids– or big kids!– after a round of fun like that, right, Dream?"

Dream smiled bashfully at the mention of the activities that had occurred barely six minutes prior, pulling the water bottle close to his body as he hunched over to turn and hide his face in George's shoulder. George chuckled at his reaction, reaching over to pat Dream's head as he rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Speaking of that round of fun, however…" Freddy began, kneeling in front of George and resting one hand on his knee that was still flat out. "I think it's your turn, isn't it, superstar?"

George's eyes widened as he looked over at Freddy, his round, unblinking eyes staring back into his for so long that he started to understand why Dream must've been so terrified to look at him at the start. He felt his heart practically skip a beat, and felt the blood rush to his face and make his cheeks start turning pink. If he was going to get out of this, he needed to do it now.

"Oh…" George said dumbly, mentally kicking himself for not coming up with a plan sooner. "Is, uh– is that really necessary? I-I feel like we have a lot left to explore, I don't know if–"

"Do not worry, George, we have all the time in the world to explore the wonders of Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizzaplex! And you two are lucky, because you just so happen to have Freddy Fazbear as your guide for your adventure," Freddy explained, a hint of pride in his robotic voice. George smiled, thinking his plan was working.

"That's perfect! Why don't we continue on the adventure, th–" George attempted to stand up, but was stopped when Freddy's hand moved up from his knee to hold down on his thigh, and his other hand moved to press George's shoulder back against the wall. There was no force behind the push, as Freddy openly didn't intend to hurt either of the other two, but there was enough strength in Freddy's metal fingers for George to know he wasn't going anywhere, any time soon, if Freddy didn't want him to.

This realization alone was almost enough to make the nervous giggles fizzle out of his mouth.

Somehow, he held strong.

"Right after… we resolve this situation. Does that sound okay?" Freddy explained, tilting his head slightly as he finished with a reassuring tone, wanting to make sure George was aware he wasn't being forced to do something he didn't want to do.

"There's-! There's no situation to resolve!" George fought back, attempting to pull his arms in to cross them in front of his chest but realizing Dream had reached for his hand again.

"There is. The situation is finding whether or not you are ticklish as well."

"I am not!" George responded immediately, without thinking about what he was saying.

"George… do not forget what you said earlier. You told me you would never lie about this, didn't you?" George's eyes widened, the memory of saying exactly that coming back to him like a boomerang. He nodded slowly, and Freddy continued. "You did. And you have already seen what would happen if someone were to lie about that, right? Dream is your example."

"You don't have to keep saying it!" Dream whined, closing his eyes and tilting his head back against the wall behind him. George couldn't help but chuckle at his whine, however he was instantly brought back to reality when Freddy moved his hand off his leg.

"So. Are you ticklish, George?"

George's brain nearly flipped upside down at the question, his body instinctively squirming as he looked away and whined quietly at the question.

"Thahat's not– that's not fair, you can't just ask that!"

"Dream," Freddy said instead, turning his attention to the man beside George just as Dream looked back at him too. "Is George ticklish?"

"Dream, don't!" George cut in immediately, making Dream's eyes flickered over to his as they widened, unsure of what to do.

"Do not lie, Dream," Freddy cut back in as well, and Dream's eyes, once again, jumped to Freddy's, even wider this time. He paused, debating his options, before a small smile graced his features.

"Yes, he is. Ridiculously so."

"DREAM?!"

"Excellent! Way to go, superstar!" Freddy praised, making Dream bite back a smile as he looked down at his hand in George's, bashful once again. "Now, George…" Freddy's voice stayed firm, repeating his earlier question. "Are you ticklish?"

George stuttered for a few seconds, before soon accepting that there was no point in denying anymore. He knew this would only end one way, and at this point the butterflies in his tummy were too strong and wild for him to want anything else. All he could do now was make it easier on himself.

"I-I… fine, yes…" He mumbled, squeezing Dream's fingers so he'd stop fidgeting for the time being.

"Good. And is it okay if I tickle you?"

"Oh my god…" George just about whimpered out, followed by a long whine as he pulled both his legs up to his chest, dropped his head in his knees, and wrapped his free arm around them. "Y-yeah, that… that would be alright," he mumbled, squeezing Dream's hand a little tighter.

"Wonderful news, superstar! I promise to go easy on you."

"Kill me now," George whined again, voice muffled by the arm he'd pulled up closer to his face to block his blush more. Dream giggled at that, making George whine louder, and he brought George's knuckles up to his lips to place a gentle kiss to the back of them.

"You'll be okay, Georgie. It wasn't anything you couldn't handle," Dream explained, dropping George's hand to worm his arm in between George's torso and his knees, pulling on one of his legs to get him to uncurl himself and come out of hiding.

"That is true, I can promise there is no way I'll go over your limit. There are ways I can sense certain things about you, such as your heart rate and the temperature of your skin, to ensure that nothing will be unsafe for you. You'll be in good hands, you have my word," Freddy explained, placing his hand on George's knee once more and rubbing his cool thumb across it soothingly.

"Really?" George asked, looking up at Freddy as he did, in fact, uncurl himself slightly. Freddy made a noise of confirmation, smiling as George nodded in response. "Okay. That's pretty cool, to be honest. Knowing that helps a lot."

"I am glad. I think we can begin now! Dream, why don't you hold George for his turn, it might be helpful for both of you."

"What?! No! That's not fair! Dream, do not– DREAM-!" George's protests were cut off when he felt an arm behind his back and one under his knees, lifting him quite unceremoniously. Both belonged to Dream, who was ready in almost an instant to pull George perpendicular onto his lap and grab both his wrists with one hand, holding them in front of his chest. The other hand stayed on George's back, keeping him steady even as he began squirming, despite him quickly realizing it was no use. "Dream, stop it! Let go– NO!" George yelped, his back stiffening as he felt two large, metal hands holding either side of his ribcage. He pulled at his wrists, hoping they would budge even a little bit, but his attempts were cut off by sudden tensing and squirming when the thumbs and forefingers of said metal hands suddenly started drilling circles into the bottom and sides of his ribs.

"NOHO-!" George's back arched immediately, his knees drawing up again slightly, but this time he simply stomped his feet on the patterned carpet and slid the heels of his sneakers against it as he shook his head and twisted his body as much as he could manage. "Plehehehease!" He begged, pushing forward and back and to either side to no avail in an attempt to somehow dislodge the fingers digging into the most sensitive parts of his ribs.

"My goodness, George, you are very squirmy!" Freddy pointed out, making George scrunch up his nose in discontent and shake his head wildly.

"Shuhuhut uhuhup!" Any attempt George could've made to keep his laughter at bay was completely useless, his giggles spilling out in new waves with every single circle and movement of Freddy's hands. His continuous giggles then turned into squeals, genuine laughter, and full body squirming when Freddy's fingers pushed back just enough to press all his fingers into the backs of George's ribs and vibrate them against the bones. "NOHOHO, oh my GOHOHOD– PLEHEASE NOT THIHIHIS, PLEHEHEASE!"

"Uh, yeah, that's a bit of a bad spot for him," Dream explained softly to Freddy, leaning in slightly so he could be heard over George's frantic laughter. "I'm not really sure how long you should stay there."

"Hm, yes, I can tell. His heart rate skyrocketed as soon as I pressed in," Freddy explained, pulling his fingers off the back of George's ribcage and gently holding his sides to keep him balanced. George took in as many gulps of air as he could manage, his eyes slipping closed as he let his head roll back in exhaustion.

"Thahahat– thahat was nohot… goihing easy on mehehehe…" George complained, tugging at his wrists in Dream's hand and tapping his feet against the floor even more.

"I apologize, George. You handled that part very well. However, my sensors tell me you can endure a bit more," Freddy explained, not giving George any time to react before scratching his fingers at George's stomach. George's back arched at the sensation, and he sucked in his tummy and held in his laughter for barely a second to try to deter the animatronic from that spot, but all hope was lost when Freddy brought his other hand into the mix, skittering his metallic fingers all over his tummy and sides in random bursts.

"Oh myhy Gohohohod! S-stohohop! I caha– stohop ihihihit, plehehease!" George's pleads were ignored, and his squirming and whining only increased when he gets Dream's palm gently rubbing circles on the middle of his back, in an attempt– that was, unfortunately, working– to soothe George's nerves as much as he could. "Dreheheam, stohop– Freheddyhyhy! Stohohop!" George took in a sharp breath right as Freddy's thumb swiped underneath his belly button, the action catching the edge of his t-shirt and letting the cold metal slide along his bare skin. George squealed, jumping away from the touch, but Freddy simply swiped his thumb a few more times, chuckling when George squealed once again when he caught the bottom edge of his belly button. "NOHO, okahahay!"

"Okay?" Dream questioned, furrowing his eyebrows at George as he waited for further explanation.

"Okahay! Mohohove somewhere ehe–ELSE, N-AHA!" George yelped, his entire torso arching and flinching as Freddy delivered a single quick pinch to the space right above his hipbones before pulling his hands away to give George a breather.

"You're doing extremely well, superstar. You're lasting longer than I expected."

George whined, crossing his arms over his chest and holding onto his own biceps the second Dream let go of his wrists. Dream, instead, wrapped his arms around George's waist and pulled him closer, cuddling into his side where he still remained sideways on his lap.

George would never admit how much he melted into it.

"Now… why don't we out how you react down here, okay, Mr. Twinkle Toes?" Freddy teased with another echoey chuckle, gently poking fun at George for the way he'd been tapping his feet against the floor, in comparison to Dream's kicking from earlier. He shifted backwards a few inches, grabbing the underside of George's right leg and gently guiding him to let it be held up, outstretched, leaving enough spots exposed and vulnerable that George began squirming again almost instantly.

"No, nonono, whahat are you doihihing?" George protested, curling his toes inside his shoes and attempting to wiggle his leg out from Freddy's hold. It was useless, however, as Freddy's large, metal hands were almost bulky enough to wrap entirely around the middle of his calf, and the grip was so strong that his arm barely moved a few centimeters even with George's wild squirming. George knew, without a doubt, that he was screwed.

"It seems like someone is getting nervous. Dream, are there bad spots on George's legs that I should know about?" Freddy asked, glancing between the two boys as Dream smiled and George's eyes widened.

"No! No, Dream, please, I'm serious, please don't say anything, please!" George begged, reaching one hand over to rest on Dream's shoulder and the other to hold onto one of his arms around his waist.

"Uh…" Dream paused, conflicted on who to listen to again, but Freddy placed a hand on his other shoulder and spoke again.

"Dream, you don't have to worry. He knows I can tell when he's taken too much, and you know firsthand that I will stop accordingly the second I sense he's reached that point. He will be fine."

"But I– that doesn't–" George stuttered, his face heating up and turning even more red than he thought it could ever get. "Ugh, Dreeeeammm…" George let out a long whine of Dream's name, tilting his head and partially hiding his face against Dream's shoulder, the position too awkward and strained to do much more.

"Behind his knees are pretty bad, and above the knees are even worse than he said I was. Oh, and his thighs are an absolute death spot, you can't stay there too long either. That might have to be your finale, if you've already gotten his ribs."

"Dream, when we get out of here, I'm gonna get you back and wreck you so ha–"

"Perfect! Thank you, Dream, you're so helpful!" Freddy cut off George's empty threat with a compliment to Dream, then suddenly squeezed right above George's knees with the hand that wasn't holding his leg in place.

"NOHO– ohoh gohohod!" George squealed, jolting up from Dream's shoulder and hunching forward. He curled his hands into fists, pinning his elbows to his sides and shaking his fists slightly in the air– something he often did when he wasn't sure how else to expel the ticklish energy coursing through his veins. His leg flinched against Freddy's hold with every touch, giggles and squeaks falling from his lips no matter how hard he tried to bite them back or protest through them.

"Hm, it does seem that this might be more of a sensitive spot on you than on Dream… but I wonder if back here will get you to giggle as much as he did?" Freddy said as he slid his hand around to flutter over the back of George's knee instead.

George squealed, loud and unfiltered, and he was pretty sure it could have transformed into a scream if he hadn't broken off into high pitched, equally loud, doubly embarrassing laughter immediately after, tossing his head back and letting his jaw go completely slack as he smiled so wide his cheeks began to hurt. He flinched and kicked his leg out straight, then tried to bend his knee to hide the spot as best as he could, but it was useless.

"Nahahaha!" He protested through his sunny laughter, scrunching his nose up at the humiliating pitch it was at and covering his mouth with one hand. He tried to keep in as much as he could, letting out muffled giggles now as he scrunched his entire body and squirmed like his life depended on it.

"Oh, c'mon, George. Don't do that," Dream complained, curling up closer to George and gently guiding his hand away from his mouth. George shook his head, looking away from both of them, but Dream straightened his back to lean up and place a soft kiss on George's temple. George nearly melted again, whining between laughs, letting his hands be guided away until they were in shaky fists by his chest again.

"THIHIHIS– thihis ihisn't fahahahair!"

"Hm… you're right, we have been going for a minute or so longer than we went with Dream, perhaps that's not fair. I can sense you're getting tired."

"Yehehehes! It's nohohot! So stohop ihihit!" George complained, wincing at how whiny he sounded, but he didn't have much time to think about his tone when Freddy quickly switched to squeezing and scratching at his inner thighs. "NOHOHO! OH GOHOHOD– NAHAHA, PLEHEHEASE!" George practically screamed out his protests, his voice starting to become raspy from the force of his laughter.

"Oh, my… I see what you were saying about this being a… 'death spot', I believe you called it? This is quite a find."

"SHUHUHUT UHUHUP!?" George yelled, face flushing even more red than it was and only getting worse as his breathing became even more labored through his torture. He pulled in a sharp breath, immediately pushing it back out in the form of a new wave of frantic laughter ripping from his throat, and he jumped forward to grab onto Freddy's arm, one hand pulling at his wrists and the other wrapped around his wide, blocky, metal fingers to try and pry them away from his thigh. He begged and pleaded, each word being cut off by a new laugh as he squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. "PLEHE– FREHEHE– COME ON, PLEHEHEASE– I CAHAHAHA–!"

"Okay, I believe this is a sufficient ending. I can see you're nearly beyond your limit, so we're done," Freddy explained, gently patting George's leg a few times before placing it down next to his other one and letting him go entirely. George immediately curled his knees up towards his body with a whimper, then curled his arms around his torso, and turned slightly to hide his face in Dream's shoulder once again. Freddy and Dream both chuckled at his overdramatic recovery, but they both found ways to comfort him nonetheless– Dream's fingers scratching the back of his head and holding one of his hands, and Freddy rubbing his back and patting his knee to help his breathing return to normal. "You did such a good job. You're a real superstar, George, I mean that."

"Shuhuhut… shut up…" George mumbled against Dream's shoulder, squeezing his fingers where their hands were linked in response to Dream chuckling at him. "You too, idiot. Don't think I'm, like… ever, ever gonna forget this. Okay? I'm gonna destroy you when we find a way home."

"I'm looking forward to it, Georgie," Dream responded, his tone more fond than ever, and both men giggled at the idea for a few seconds.

Freddy stood up and walked over to the charging station on the wall near them, grabbing the second water bottle he had brought back with him. He cracked the lid open delicately with two fingers as he walked back over and handed it to George. Then, all three of them noticed a blinking red light on the screen of the charging pod.

"Oh… I apologize, but it appears I'm about to enter power saving mode, so it's time for me to rest in one of these charging pods for quite a while. Will you two be okay without me for the time being? I will come find you as soon as my battery level is full again."

"We'll be okay," George reassured with a nod. "Well…. I will be. Not sure about Dream, he's still a big baby scaredy cat, aren't you, Dream?"

"Normally I'd call you an idiot, but you're not even wrong about this one. But we'll be okay, we promise," Dream agreed, both of them looking over at Freddy with honest smiles.

"Wonderful. Once you're both ready, the best place to go next would probably be the daycare center on the ground floor. I will meet you outside the door when my battery is charged." And with that explanation, Freddy turned away from them and entered the charging pod, and Dream and George watched as the lights flickered to life and the whirring sound of a power surge rang through the machine.

In all honesty… Dream was immediately terrified again.

But, alas, he pushed through, and the two finished their waters and headed towards the long staircase down to the ground floor where the daycare was located, unsure of what adventures and explorations the area may hold for them.

[aibidil]

My favorite!: Smutty Dialogue

Rules: pick any ten seven fics, select some smut or pre-smut dialogue, and tag ten people. If you have written less than ten, feel free to share anyway!

Thanks for the tag @ghaniblue! This is fun. I knew I liked writing talking and laughing during sex (anyone who has read any of my fic probably realizes I do not think sex is a Serious thing), but it's been fun to see the things that pop up again and again (pun intended). I also think it's interesting to think through all the ways that people can put into words/actions what they want to do—how it's possible and sexy and funny to communicate in this way. 🥰

🏴‍☠ Here be smut:

Always Already (Harry/Draco, 170k)

"I can't say I care how we finish," Draco breathed, his lips brushing Harry's ear. "You could touch me with your nose right now and it'd still be the best sex I've ever had." Shit. That was way too revealing.

But Harry, eyes still shut and turned to the side, grinned. "Do you have a nose fetish? It's because of your war wounds, isn't it? Anyone with a nose turns you on, after having witnessed him without?"

"The only way this could end unsatisfactorily," Draco said, rolling his hips, "is if you ruin my orgasm by talking about Voldemort. Why don't you tell me what you want?"

Harry opened his eyes. "I really want to suck you off."

****

"Are you ticklish?" Draco asked, caught between teasing, fond amusement, and desire so strong it hurt like he'd been punched in the gut.

"Not really," Harry whispered. "I never realised I even had nerve endings in all these places you're kissing."

"I'll wake up all your nerve endings, baby," Draco drawled, making his voice as ridiculous as possible even as he helplessly pushed his groin against Harry's thigh to relieve the pressure.

"Oh my god," Harry said, laughing.

Smiling, Draco pushed up on his knees to bring his face in line with Harry's. "Tell me," he said, brushing his nose against Harry's cheek, "how do you want to finish this?"

Harry tilted his head back against the floor, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed and said, "Any way. Whatever you want."

"Teenage fantasies aside," Draco whispered, "that's not an answer. What do you want?"

(Un)wanted (Harry/Draco, 37k)

"I'm sorry!" Harry says, still idly thrusting into the air even as he does feel bad about choking Malfoy.

"Don't apologise," Malfoy rasps, tugging him back down. "Do it again."

"Not today, Satan," Harry says despite all his instincts screaming at him to comply. He scoots down until his face is even with Malfoy's and flops onto the bed next to him. "You'll like, go tell the papers that Harry Potter likes to choke people with his cock."

Malfoy raises one thin eyebrow. "Don't you?"

"No!" Harry says, unsure whether to be offended or to laugh. Maybe that's the key to Draco Malfoy that he's been missing all these years—he's supposed to laugh instead of getting offended. "I mean, it felt good. But it's not like I sit around fantasising about choking people."

"Suuure," Malfoy drawls.

****

"Hullo," Malfoy says, and Harry kisses him.

There's an exhale, shoulders relaxing, hot mouths. There's a body under Harry's hands and it's this ridiculous, dramatic prat, and fucking hell, Harry is hot for him—and how did that happen!?

Malfoy pulls away. "I want to note that you said you didn't want casual sex with me."

Harry doesn't answer.

"I'm therefore checking that you actually want to do this. Because you did say that. And we still have to see each other in class or whatever. And we're not drunk. This isn't like last time. This is rather, well, premeditated. Yes?"

Harry nods, hating talking about it but ploughing ahead anyway. "I want to. I don't particularly want to like, define anything. Do we have to? It seems—premature." What he doesn't say is he doesn't think he can manage that discussion. He doesn't want to talk about if they're a couple. If they're boyfriends. If he needs to define his sexuality and come out in the newspapers. Fucking hell. No.

Draco frowns. "Ah, I suppose we could just agree that—it's not casual?"

That's doable. Nothing has ever been casual with Malfoy, has it? "It's not casual," Harry echoes, nodding.

"Oh thank fuck," Draco says, tugging Harry closer, pressing their mouths together and rucking up Harry's shirt, snaking his hands around Harry's back.

again, for the first time (Harry/Draco, 14k)

"I actually…" Draco swallowed. "I don't think I've ever had sex sober."

"Oh," Harry said, and then in a teasing tone, "so am I taking your virginity?"

"I've had so much sex," Draco said, unable to stop himself from breaking into a fit of laughter. "Harry, I have had so much sex. How is it that I feel like a noob?"

"It's different," Harry whispered. "Because you have to be there, if you're sober. Because I see you."

Draco let out an embarrassing noise that he refused to dwell on. "Right. So it's scary, but also, it's so fucking hot. I think I want you to see me. I see you, too, you know." Unable to wait a second longer, Draco pushed his hips off the bed, rolling their groins together.

When Times are Dire (Harry/Draco, 130k)

Draco laughed, unfastening Harry's trousers. "You're so easy."

Harry nodded. "Ah yes. I'm a cheap date. All it takes to get me in bed is to almost kill each other, survive a war together, work together over decades, have children who fall in love and get married, get married for political reasons, pretend to be in love for two years to all friends and relatives, become grandparents together, and take a controlled substance to open up enough to tell each other the truth. That's all."

Draco grinned, pressing his lips together to quell it as he pulled Harry's penis out of his pants. "It didn't require the last one to get you in bed last night."

"It did to get me in bed now," Harry said, raising an eyebrow and then ruining the smirk with a guileless smile.

"We're not in bed," Draco parried, and really he should've seen it coming—Harry grabbed Draco's bicep and Apparated them directly onto their bed.

"We are now." Harry reached behind his head to tug off his t-shirt.

****

"You're the head of the party," Harry said, attaching his lips to Draco's neck, "you can do anything."

"That is…that's not how it works. And I can't do that. I don't disagree that it's fucked up, but—" Draco let out a low moan as Harry dragged teeth over his neck in time with rolling an arse cheek against his erection. "You do realise this isn't what a day at work is like for me, right? I have zero experience discussing policy whilst—nghhhh." Draco let his head drop back, propping himself up on his arms.

"Oh come on, according to those books you love, interns and students and beseeching public figures are always fucking powerful people in their offices."

"You love those books too," Draco defended, trying to keep his voice level despite Harry's best attempts to wreck his composure. "And no one's ever been fucked in my office."

"Say you'll make it part of the platform to ban magically binding entails," Harry whispered, hot in Draco's ear, his tone like he was saying something dirty—and maybe he was, insofar as corruption was 'dirty'.

"I can't," Draco moaned. "Harry, you know I—"

"I'll fuck you in your office." Harry's tongue was so warm—

"You can't influence the policy of the entire LabMag party by bribing me with a workplace tryst," Draco choked out.

"Can't I?" Harry asked. "I don't even feel bad about it, because I'm right."

"I didn't know you believe the ends justify the means, Potter."

"Your end justifies my means."

Calamity's Child (James/Teddy, 43k)

James comes first, thrusts faltering as he presses his hips flush against Teddy's arse and lets his head fall against Teddy's collarbone with a wordless moan. A second later, he blinks. "Sorry, you didn't come yet—I—"

“Shhhh.” Teddy lets go of his cock and rubs a hand up and down James’s back, pulling him forward into a hug so he can have a moment to come down. James starts to sit up and Teddy pushes him away, dislodging his penis, and says, "Don't you dare apologise for coming first. I plan to keep you coming first for a long time, Jamie."

James sits back on his heels and smiles, his penis hanging long from his groin, the full condom tight around it. “Is that so? That’s the worst pickup line I’ve ever heard.”

Lost In My Own Home (James/Teddy, 105k)

Teddy laughs as James throws a piece of fabric at Teddy. The Invisibility Cloak. "Throw that over your head in case Albus or someone sees us walking to the bathroom."

"It's not long enough to entirely cover me," Teddy says. "They'll still see feet."

"Well yeah," James says and shrugs. "I don't care they know I am about to get off with someone in the shower. They just can't know it's you. So…"

Teddy smiles and shrugs. "Okay." He throws the cloak over his head and follows James to the door.

James cracks open the door, stark bollock naked, and peeks into the corridor. "Coast is clear," he says, throwing the door open and walking to the bathroom. Teddy follows him, feeling extremely exposed to be naked in the corridor of the Potters’ house, even if most of his body is invisible.

"Er, James?" Albus's voice says from behind them, and James turns.

"What?" James says, unabashed. "I'm going to take a shower."

Albus gestures at the disembodied feet and raises his eyebrows.

"I'm going to get off with these feet," James says. "See you later."

A Hag, a Hex, a Tale of Redemption (Harry/Draco, 43k)

"Come on!"

"You're pretty demanding," Draco said with a smile, pressing forward again until he was all the way inside.

Harry laughed, eyes still closed. "I'm willing to bet that when we do this the other way round, you'll be just as demanding." His eyes flew open. "I mean, not to assume that you'd—"

But Draco grinned. "I would. We will." Then Draco needed to actually get on with the fucking and stop their laughing. "Can we banter after we're done here, or do you want to—"

"For fuck's sake, Draco, yes! Go, fuck me."

[overpoweredcacti]

CME 17x10 thoughts (and prayers)

Jesus Christ I’m finally home after accidentally sabotaging my own morning (okay sabotage may be harsh. I have a job now that I signed all the necessarily paperwork lol but I had to go around the city for hours. This Pacific time Midnight airtime is ridiculous, that’s 9 am for me. By then I usually have to pretend to be a functioning adult human being).

I don’t really do this usually, but it is the finale, so. I will try my hand and liveblogging. This will be long.

Some preliminary thoughts though:

I think Church and Jade both survive and it’s Mila who dies

I just don’t see any of the main cast dying. Maybe Rossi, but this show is attached to its actors so much that this would only happen if Joe wanted out, and I’m not sure I can see that happening?

the last Gold Star Peter B. is most probably Peter Bailey

I don’t trust Phil Coulson the Director

Voit has to die. I think. Narratively he just can’t live. So my guess is that he will be killed (maybe on FBI higher up orders) and it will be framed as a suicide. But the BAU would obvious know that doesn’t match his profile cue S18

Well then.

55 minutes hmm, okay. I thought we would get at least an hour, there’s so much going on.

Connection Lost. For all of them??

20 minutes Rebecca and Garcia has been sitting in that office, waiting. That does wonders for someone’s nerves I bet

needs to reboot the system (“have you tried turning it off and on again?” xd)

I’M sorry they didn’t know the building just fucking exploded? xdxd

also still Minimal Loss vibes

okay but everyone seemed fine on the promo pics (minus Emily) so how if they all exploded

I don’t buy it lol

halluciVoit is back

the team is okay

okay see. how lucky do you have to be though to survive an explosion without a scratch

unless they pull a Dallas and the next 30 minutes is just Dave dying and dreaming shit lol that would be iconic

okay Mila surrendered maybe she’s not dying. But how does Rossi get rid of the head wound?

oooh okay so it is a kidnapping situation. Because Jade still thinks the BAU is in cahoots with Church

“you’ve been charged with pedophilia” love that we are not sugarcoating it lol

OKAY so I didn’t think it would be so abrupt. But okay dude deserved it.

Ooh the shot of the dripping blood as he’s carted away? Brilliant.

are we about to see Emily get yeeted

that was a very mild blast without the sound effects lol

are you taking some of the voltage? that’s..a choice. I’m also unsure if that would even work

again with the camera, literally shaking off the memory how cool

listen I know we are supposed to be scared for Emily but it’s Emily. Not even she looks phased lol

holy shit the writing remembers past events. Unbelievable

okay I was recently talking about Person of Interest so that’s probably why the scene is in my mind, but whoever knows about it: This is straight up Vigilance and Control in the mock trial in S3

okay so since Peter B. is most definitely Bailey I’m guessing that’s how Emily will eventually get through to them? By the fact the she knew Doug?

criminal mastermind Brian Garrity reveal when

are you serious? that’s a prison? That’s a vacation home. I've slept in worse places that I paid for

HE HAS A MICROWAVE?

is this actually a thing in America? Okay not my business but damn

“the only thing I miss is you” VoitxRossi is sailing

yes it’s definitely Doug’s brother

yeeah

see that’s a problem because I’m pretty sure Emily holds herself responsible too xd

“does this body language tell you anything” yeah that you’re a fucker

lil bro kinda low key looks like a young Jonathan Groff

so where were you at the funeral? flashback to Emily meeting the parents but not him I’m guessing?

okay flashback but not about that

“really?” “No,” xdxdxdxdx pls. yes. thank you. OG moment. God. Love that

“You scream only child.” Emily. You’re an only child.

"I have a sister" No you don’t. Where did that come from.

Okay was she manipulating him or did they just drop this out of nowhere breaking 17 seasons of previous lore because both are a legitimate possibility.

“why weren’t you at Doug’s funeral” thank you

yeah see I like that this is coming back. Because the DOJ really dropped the ball on Benjamin Reeves

all that said Clark Gregg is still suspicious

so the teenager who is rebellious and anti-government gets into juvie where the government paid private military company trains him to be an assassin through abuse. Nice job there xd

“I’m not threatening your career” love the energy

you literally didn’t have to keep any of that from the BAU though.

THAT’s when you knew you had a crisis? Bruh

“a pilates instructor” xdxd Rebecca’s wit is underappreciated tbh

“he may or may not have information” “fuck you” 💀

are we having a discussion about the real life confines of four dimensional chess. My guy that’s a meme.

Aww JJ basically admitting they are going to get fucked over but hey it’s Emily, they gotta

“he wanted to wear comfy clothes” this bitch.

“back at it like a crack addict” you know what I retroactively would like to witness the birth of lines like this in the writer’s room

 I mean yeah sure but child trafficking does exist tho xd

okay they are cute…

“god forbid you end up on that wall” uff.

aaah you were taking the photos. But who were the guys working for you? I was absolutely sure it was Church. He had the resources, you don’t

see this is where the conspiracy theory conversations become a bit funny, because Emily is completely right, they are about amplification of fear, doubt etc. Also they help reconcile with events that we can’t make logical sense of. It’s honestly an incredibly human thing to do and they have always been around, they are not new.

That said when you introduce shit like the FBI or the CIA a lot of things that used to be “conspiracy theories” have since been reveled to have been true 💀 so people being distrustful towards these organizations are not that unreasonable when you think about it. And even in-universe the BAU has done shady shit? So.

“babe” xdxd okay so maybe Jade is dying. They have built her up to be sympathetic but they are slowly losing that angle narratively? Slowly tho

oh? is that how we’ll get to the bottom of BAUgate?

“Jenny”. can JJ slap him, just once?

the way everyone is so done with him

sometimes I do like Tyler

bit of a CGI house there lol

not Garcia psyching him out

chocolate thunder

oh, Oh?

“I put you in” I?. I??

oh my god. no. that’s vile. even within an already vile context. people have been pointing out the similarities but jesus christ

okay Emily is doing talk no jutsu about Doug

told you she does feel responsible

oooh. oh.

where do people buy so much C4

(hypothetically of course)

yeah I mean obviously not going to happen. But I get the plan there

also the team either knows that’s the endgame of they are just being very optimistic about Emily still being alive lol

of course it’s a trap. Was that really such a big revelation Dave xd

“who think we are the enemy” Tara. Babe. You kind of are to them xd

okay maybe they will survive this. Or Pete might. Jade could still kill herself. Or each other.

yeah she knows 😭

Radiohead?

passive aggressive action report

thank you for calling him out on this

no I still don’t trust Clark Gregg

is Emily going to low key blackmail the Director xd that would be very stupid. And also incredibly in character

yeah they have pretty much said it before that Tyler would be the “next generation”

“Hooray you’re alive” xd

Rebecca just got a haircut? She looks nice. But how much time had passed then.  

“the shoes” 💀 that’s so fair

oh his “ghost” just standing in the bg

okay so he either escapes, in which case the showrunners completely lied about leaving him behind in S18 lol or he dies. Maybe he gets shanked. A girl can dream

I was joking xdxdxdx 💀

uff not the bleach

oh my god he really got shanked. holy shit

I mean yes thank you

but holy shit

so we have zero idea on what happens in S18. Zero. that’s nice.

Okay, closing thoughts. It was a good episode, but a bit underwhelming on the conspiracy side of things? And as a finale? I mean they kept saying how it’s “bigger than we thought” but it really wasn’t? Also it kind of takes away from the suspense that we know none of these characters are ever dying lol But ultimately it did close off loose ends. But I really would have appreciated some implication that Voit was killed on someone’s orders to continue some kind of a plot thread? Realistically the writers probably haven’t decided on that yet lol Did like that we acknowledged that the Gold Star kids were victims but…at the end of the day who was the perpetrator?

No, I still don’t trust Clark Gregg. Also can we get back to Emily having a sister what is that about