#this should've been in the TV series | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

enwoso · 5 months ago

Note

not sure what your plans or chronologically for the grumpy universe

but could you write something where tiny is a teenager and she’s going through a rebellious phase. out late, parties, that sort of vibe

TEENAGE TERRORS — alessia russo x teen!reader

buckle up she’s a long one! i didn’t really know how i was going to end this so the ending is a little iffy but ENJOY!

lil psa, not wanting to disappoint anyone but this is probably one of the only ones i’ll write with lovie as a teen just as its a little bit more difficult to get the dynamics right. i’m sorry, i still love you all🤍

grumpy masterlist

you were now sixteen, however you were still your mums little girl.

your mum had since retired from football and had moved into working still within the football scene: part time football pundit for the international matches but still giving back to the local clubs making sure that girls sports was supported in a way they should be.

since you were now able to look after yourself, your mum was rarely around during the week. always being out the house sometimes before you even woke up having to be somewhere for a meeting.

but it worked out well as you would be at school, and then after that she would pick you up from school and drive you to football training and sit and watch you flourish in a sport that had quite literally been your entire life.

you still lived in london, but you had moved slightly further from central london from the first home you lived in when you moved to london all those moons ago. still going to all of arsenal's home games at the emirates both men's and women's.

hoping one day that would be you, you on the field playing for your club.

your mum still very much good friends with her teammates she used to play with, most coming around on a weekend to visit when they had the time. but most importantly, ella was around at every chance she could.

you could have sworn at one point she had moved in for a little bit while her boyfriend had been away on a work trip, alessia sometimes wondering when ella was around if she had one child or two.

alessia had a lot of trust in you, she didn't think she had to worry about you being lead down the wrong path.

you were naturally quite clever, your grades in school were very good, your teachers would never really have a bad word to say about you, maybe the fact you were a little chatty in the wrong moments, and you had a good group of friends which alessia had met and there impression to her was good.

but you also had a strong head on your shoulders. you weren't the type to let others tell you what to do.

but with that you were a teenager and your mum should've maybe been a little more tentative in what you did with your spare time.

it was easy to slip things past your mum as for one she wasn't exactly the hardest to convince — something you more often than you would like to admit used to your full advantage.

which is why when you started coming home late, being out every weekend at someone else's house for party's your mum didn't exactly pick up on anything. your mum just thought you were having fun, she trusted you that you knew what was sensible and what wasn't.

but maybe the trust each time you were late home, or came home smelling of alcohol was being stretched further and further like a rubber band to the point where it could break at any point.

which is what lead to the weekend, you were off to another party.

"mum! i'm going out now, i'll see you later" you called out from the hallway as you touched up your hair in the large floor mirror that hung in the hallway.

your mum sat in the living room watching a series on the large tv that took up a large part of the wall, a small glass of white wine in her hand as a small way for the blonde to unwind after a busy week.

"wait, lovie. c'mere!" your mum called out quickly at the sound of the door keys being rattled around. you huffing slightly at you checked the time on your phone before poking your head into the living room.

your mum turning so that she could see you a sad look adorning on your mothers face, "you never said you were going out? i thought you were staying in, we were gonna do a movie night remember?"

you eyebrows knitted together with confusion, ok you may have forgotten to tell your mum your weekend plans but you couldn't just cancel your plans with your friends now, it was too late.

"i- uh. i did i told you in the car on the way back from training on wednesday!" you lied, you were now getting a little impatient as your mum hummed, she still not really remembering if you had or not a lot having happened since wednesday night.

"we can have our movie night another time, i really need to go now. i'll be back later mum" you spoke fast and your mum could sense the urgency that you had to leave.

"right, what time will you be back?" your mum asked, as you thought for a moment not wanting to say to early but also not too late that your mum would complain.

"about eleven maybe" you shrugged, the maybe coming out a little quieter, more of a whisper.

"ok lovie, but no drinking please you have an important match tomorrow, have fun but be-"

"-sensible i know mum! bye i love you" were the last words spoken to your mum as you dashed out the room and the front door before alessia even had a chance to blink.

you managed to make it to the party just on time, it happened to only be a few blocks from your house but you as always you underestimate the time it's going to take for you to get ready.

you got to the party, there being a lot more people than you expected. it taking you a little while longer to locate your friends over the booming noise of the music and the amoung of people inside the house.

but luckily you were able to find your friends, your four friends englufing you in a tight squeeze as they fiilled you in with what you had missed since arriving late.

you loved your friends, you would do anything for them and they had been there since pretty much the beginning and the five of you were pretty much inseparble.

there was emilia who was definetly the most outspoken out the four of you, you not too far second in that race, she would say anything and everything on her mind. but like every teenage girl she had two sides to her lovely and like butter wouldnt melt on the outside but deep inside her she was a total bitch.

there was olivia, she was emilia's ride or die, the two of them knowing each other since preschool and one thing about olivia is she would do anything for emilia even if meant she or others would get hurt in the process.

then there was isabella or bella as everyone called her, she was the newest addition to the friend group havign just transfered schools, but she was too nice for her own good meaning she was a little naive to her surroundings and some peoples meaning.

and finally your best friend poppy, the girl you trusted with your entire life - quite literally. the two of you had been joined to the hip since your first day at school, clicking instantly. you considered the girl as a sister. alessia always thinking you and poppy reminded her a lot of her and ella when they were younger.

once you had caught up with your friends the night went on you were just enjoying socialising, you always up for meeting new people although it was a little hard in a dimly lit room and blaring music over the top.

"what you drinking tonight then russo?" emilia asked you with a dopey smile, a red solo cup in her hand as she slouched next to you on the couch. you were most definitely the only one there that was still sober.

"just sprite" you shrugged, holding you cup up as emilia let out a little laugh.

"why you being boring russo, just have a drink let your hair down" emilia giggled as she began to sway slightly from side to side with the music but she definitely wasn't in time with the beat like she thought she was.

you shook your head, "i can't, i have a match in the morning and i promised my mum-"

"oh why are you so bothered about all that stupid football jazz. your never gonna make it pro, you would have already! just face it your never gonna be the big name your mum was!" emilia slurred so casually, the words just rolling off her tongue like she was just repeating words she had rehearsed for days.

emilia was off squealing at some boy as she dragged him to dance with her all before you could even process what she'd said. your body just slumping into its self.

"you okay?" a voice said over the beat of the loud music which felt even louder now, your ears ringing. you looked up, your eyes slightly watered as you nodded. it was just poppy.

"yep” you popped your lip looking at the floor before turning to look at your best friend, “can you get me a drink?" you looked up hopeful, as poppy looked at you with knitted eyebrows, confusion filled her face. you didn’t drink.

"what? another sprite?" she asked as you quickly shook your head, "no, something else, vodka? anything. just make it strong?"

"are you sure your okay?" poppy asked again, it was unusual for you to drink never mind ask for a strong drink. your best friend beginning to be slightly worried about the sudden change in your behaviour as you sighed frustratedly.

"yes! just get me the fucking drink poppy!" you snapped as poppy quickly left her red solo cup next to you, mumbling she would be a few minutes.

and to your luck, she was back a few minutes later a red solo cup in her hand, handing it to you. a clear liquid in the cup as you peered into the cup.

"it's straight vod-"

you didn't bother listening to what poppy had to say, instead chugging the vodka. the feeling of the burning down your throat, the same feeling hitting your stomach as when emilia said those words to you.

but right now you wanted to forget that, forget everything, you wanted your mind to be clear, just like the colour of the liquid your just downed.

you felt your head begin to get lighter with each drink you had, before you were starting to not even be able to walk straight never mind put a sentence together.

the night just flushing into a blur, as for the first time you felt free. like nothing mattered. nobody knew your name or used you for your last name. you were just y/n.

lovie🩷 -> hey alessia, it's poppy, y/n's in quite a state and she was about to start walking home by herself but i don't think that's a good idea so my mum is going to drop her home when she picks me up.

mumma🤍 -> hi poppy, is she okay? did something happen?

lovie🩷 -> she's conscious but i don't think she knows what's going on, she had quite a few drinks. i'm not sure what happened one minute she was smiling the next she had a face like thunder.

mumma🤍 -> not to worry poppy, i'll talk to her in the morning. thank you for looking out for her.

"lovie?" alessia looked in shock horror at the state you were in, slightly embarrassed as she looked up thanking poppy as well as flashing a thankful smile towards her mum who was behind the driving wheel and had so kindly brought you home.

“sorry she’s in such a state, i did try and get her to slow down after the first one but she just ignored me” poppy apologised with a wince as alessia nodded with a sigh, your stubborn side which you definitely didn’t get from the blonde.

“it’s okay, i’m not angry. just a little disappointed but thank you for looking out for y/n, your a good friend to her — even when sometimes she may not deserve it” alessia slightly laughed at the little bit knowing poppy had put up with you since your first day of school and knowing you can be difficult at time especially with the strong head on your shoulder.

alessia said her goodbyes to poppy again waving to her mum as she drove down the street, turning to you with a sigh as you leant against your mum and the doorframe.

“c’mon then lovie” alessia began to move you away from the doorway as you held a dopey smile on your face. rambling out some words that alessia was convinced were not english.

"hey, only my mum calls me that-" you slurred out quietly as your eyes began to shut. a big sigh coming from alessia as she called out to ella who was in the living room.

"woah- where has she been?" ella winced as she took in your form as you were slumped up against your mum, alessia shrugging.

"i need to get her to eat something, and a bottle of water" alessia told ella as she nodded in agreement helping alessia get you into the living room at least.

you were carried to the living room by both your mum and ella, the two placing you down as you sighed contently at the feeling of the soft lounge. your body drifting in and out of sleep as each minute passed.

“i’m just gonna make her a sandwich” alessia whispered as ella nodded, staying sat beside you. “yeah i’ll stay here”

a small giggle came from you out of nowhere as you head drooped to one side of the head rest on the couch, “you sound just like my auntie ella, she has a proper thick manchester accent”

ella just sat and listened as you continued your slurred ramble, a smile creeping in her face as you spoke about ella and your mum. clearly not being with it enough to know that’s currently who you’re in a room with.

“she’s pretty cool, she was an awesome footballer too. just like my mum” a sad lopsided smile crept on your face as tears slightly built in your eyes. an eyebrow rising at your words from the brunette sat beside you as she hummed.

“my mum was an amazing footballer, my dream is always to be even half the player she is-“ a sniffle came from you as if you were about to start crying, ella patting your shoulder.

“i’m sure you’ll carry on her legacy” ella smiled at you, but as you were squinting to see if you could recognise who your were talking to but you couldn’t really make out the facial features. it all just being blurs of colours.

a yelp came from you as you screwed your eyes shut, startling ella a little as she looked at you with panic in her eyes, “oh my god, my mum gonna be so annoyed at me” you covered your face with your hands.

at this point alessia was coming back into the room, a bottle of ice cold water and your favourite type of sandwich made in her hand. the blonde about to open her mouth to say something but ella waved at her not to say anything to allow you the chance to carry on your drunken confession.

“but, the drinks just looked too good and it helped i forgot about what she said” you mumbled as you carried on talking with your hands over your face. ella and alessia looking at each other with blank faces trying to figure out what you were saying.

“i felt free like i was floating on fluffy clouds- oh is this sandwich for me?” you spotted the food on the plate on the coffee table out the corner of you eye.

“yeah eat it lovie, and there’s some water there too” alessia pointed as you hummed tucking into the sandwich still not aware of your surroundings and the fact you were in your living room at home.

alessia tapping ella on the shoulder and letting the brunette know that she was gonna get your bed ready and get you some pjs out so you could change. ella just waved the blonde off letting her do her thing of what she needed to do.

after around an hour later and the two finally got you to bed, after a few little mishaps like you tripping up the stairs and you falling asleep with your toothbrush in your mouth as you brushed your teeth in the bathroom.

but finally the two had gotten you into bed and safely asleep, alessia’s head spinning. why had you gone out and got basically black out drunk, the night before an important match. there had to be a reason. this wasn’t like you.

"oh god" alessia let out a shaky breath as she lent over the kitchen counter her head in her hands. mum guilt washing over her.

"she'll be fine less, she's a teenager. this is what they do. we were once like that too-" ella tried to help comfort her best friend with a light hearted joke towards their past of them being teenagers. it not being too dissimilar.

"yeah but tooney, this isn't the first time this has happened." alessia sighed looking up at the brunette who was stood in the dimly lit kitchen.

"this is becoming every weekend and i thought maybe when she came back late smelling of alcohol the first time, it would be the last but it's happened nearly every single time since" alessia explained as tooney's face turned into a small frown, she didn't realise that wasn't the first time.

"i thought i could trust her, ella" alessia whispered, ella knew the blonde was being serious that's the only time alessia would call her best friend by her proper name. a worried look was etched across the blondes face.

"you can less, tiny is a smart kid" ella nodded pulling the blonde into a side hug as alessia whispered, "i hope your right."

the next morning had rolled around and you woke up with the biggest head ache and no recollection of the events that happened last night, the last thing you remember was your conversation with poppy.

anything else after that, you had no idea. hell you didn't even know how you got home or when-

not even realising you were home until your eyes scanned around the dimly lit room, noticing the framed photos you had from football. some with your teammates, your family, and some with some of the lionesses past and present you'd met.

a tight knot building in your stomach as you looked at it a little longer, the words lingering in your head of what your friend had said to you.

huffing you didn't want to look at the photos any longer, you pushed your covers off you and walking your way down the stairs. the bright light of the sun shining through the windows hurting your eyes as you made you way into the kitchen not even realising your mum was stood waiting for her coffee machine to finish.

"morning- why are you not ready? we have to leave in fifteen minutes?" your mum asked as you turned grabbed a glass from the shelf filling it with ice cold water.

you ignored the question your mum was sending your way instead reaching out for the cupboard in which you knew your mum kept the medicine — rummaging through the box until you found something that would help sootheyour seething headache.

"lovie? i'm asking you a question" you mum pushed but still was talking in a soft voice. you shrugged, "don't wanna go" you mumbled as you took the time to take the medicine before placing your glass in the sink.

your mum was taken back by your response, you never missed football. not matches. not training. hell you'd even beg your mum to let you play even if your leg was hanging off. football is everything to you — or so she thought.

"why?"

"not feeling too well-" you began but were cut off by your mum, "the one thing i asked you not to do was drink and you knew you had this match this morning which you know is important-"

alessia started her rant but you just sighed and walked out the room heading towards your room. your mum realising you weren't in the room any longer, following your tracks towards your room. "y/n, i'm not finished talking-"

"yeah well i am, just leave me be mum! i don't want to go to the stupid football match okay, i quit!" you snapped as you yelled from your bedroom door slamming it shut. alessia stopping in her track, your words hitting her right in the chest, as the slam of the door echoed in the hallway.

stupid football? that wasn't the lovie alessia knew.

the lovie, alessia knew was football crazy and since she could walk had a ball at her feet.

the lovie alessia knew would spend hours in the garden trying to perfect a skill even if it was pouring of rain.

the lovie alessia knew would have to be practically dragged of the pitch and away from the football after training otherwise you would spent all night there.

the lovie alessia knew, loved football and wanted to play for her club and country.

alessia didn't understand what had happened, yeah your behaviour at the minute hadn't exactly been perfect and the blonde would be lying if she said she wasn't loosing a little bit trust in you with each time you came home late.

your actions speaking louder that maybe what you were doing in your spare time wasn’t as innocent as you tried to perceive it as. your show last night was the real eye opener for alessia.

she slumped down on the stairs as she let out a breathe. she didn't know what to do or even say.

the blonde was brought out of her thoughts at the sound of knocks echoing through the hallway. alessia pushed her self up from her seat on the stairs making her way to the door and pulling it open.

"ay we ready! where's our superstar?" ella called out as she walked in not catching the gloomy look on her best friends face at the side of the door as leah walked in behind her just as excited as the two began to recite your chant.

the two were dressed head to two in the colours you wore, ella minus the arsenal jersey. but leah was decked to the nines in gunner merch.

ella and leah made it to nearly every one of your matches, ella of course didn't make it to as many as she lived in manchester but any matches you had close to there or any time ella was in london she made sure to be at your matches with alessia.

leah on the other hand would be lucky if she missed one match a season, she always made sure to be there. leah had a close connection with the academy it being one she spent the first years of her footballing years too.

"oh- what's happened?" ella smile dropping as she looked at the sad look on alessia's face, leahs head turning around as her smile too dropped. the vibe going completely flat.

"it's lovie, she's quit football-" alessia said quitely, so quiet it almost came out as a whisper, as she walked past the two going to sit on the couch in the living room, ella and leah following alessia like lost puppy's as they came to terms which what the blonde had just said.

"what do you mean she's quit?" leah asked sitting down and taking the arsenal scarf from around her neck, it being quite warm in the room. alessia just shrugged she didnt know what the cause of you sudden outburst was, but what she did know is that something had caused it or rather someone.

ella coming and sitting next to the alessia as a sigh came from her, "she can't just quit- tiny is the future of football.."

"well she came down, i asked why she wasn't ready and she said she wasn't feeling well and then i followed her cause she walked away while i was still talking and then bascially yelled in my face that football is stupid" alessia sighed putting her head in her hands, ella running a soothing hand up and down the blonde's back.

"stupid football, that does not sound like tiny at all" leah was in disbelief, the girl she was hearing about was not the tiny that they knew and loved.

"tell me about it"

"have you tried asking her about it" ella suggested, it seeming like a silly thing to ask as she thought that alessia would ahve probably done that first but it was always worth a suggestion.

a shake of the head came from alessia, "no thought i'd give her a chance to cool off first"

"good thinking less, but it's worth a try even though she may not say anything. try and see if you can get something out of her" leah gave a sad smile to alessia who nodded taking the much needed advice on board.

the three sat a little more trying to get to the bottom of why you were acting a little weird and why you suddenly after bascially dedicating your entire life to football wanted to quit.

"but you know tiny too, more than we do, thats she capable of changing her mind more times than the weather" ella jokes as both leah and alessia let out a small chuckle. she wasnt wrong, you were known to be very indecisive.

"well we'll be off, let us know what happens and if you need anything" leah slaps her hands off her knees standing up, ella nodding and agreeing with leahs words.

"i will, i'll keep you both updated" alessia gave a half smile as she held the front door open, for the two to leave as they left still dressed in their football attire. leaving a little less excited then when they arrived.

alessia waving the two goodbye as leah drove away, the blonde shutting her door as she lingered in the hallway glancing up the stairway. planning her next movements.

make you some lunch as you hadn't eaten yet and the blonde knew better than to try and talk to you empty handed.

"just me.." your mum whispered as she lightly knocked on your door, "i brought your favourite- cheese toastie" as she put the plate on your bedside table not a mutter of a word from you as your mum walked through your room.

you just lay still in your bed, blankets wrapped around you as you held your little esme the elephant. yes the same one you'd had since you were little, it all worn with there being a little tear in the ear.

your mum sighed as she sat at the end of your bed, "how you feeling now?" she cooed as you still remained in the same place staring at the wall, the only thing to be heard was your light breathing.

alessia felt as though she'd hit a brick wall. her brain trying to think of things that may get you to talk to her but ultimitately she knew it would be a long shot. you and your stubborness. something you defiently didn't get from the blonde.

"you can't ignore me forever, lovie" alessia joked lightly hoping it may help to lighten the tense atmosphere inside your room, you glancing over at your mum perched on the end of your bed.

"i can try" you mumbled if the room hadn't of been as silent as it was alessia would have most definetly missed what you said.

a hum coming from your mum, "you can try but then who knows that you don't like blueberries cause you don't like the way they feel in your mouth, or that when your anxious about something that you bite the inside of your lip, or that you like having ketchup with almost ever meal-" alessia trailed off as you perked one eyebrow up turning onto your back.

"i'm sure i'd find a way to survive" you mumbled as your mum nodded her head slowly, humming a little at your words.

"what's happened lovie? why do you all of a sudden want to quit football" your mum asked as you moved your head slightly to the side, you knew this was coming. you just didn't think you were ready to admit out loud why you wanted to stop playing.

"just do, 'm not gonna make it anywhere anyway.." you whispered your throat going slightly tight as the words left your lips. alessia felt her heart tighten a little at your confession.

"lovie, you don't seriously believe that do you?" alessia asked a little bit of seriousness in her tone of voice, a part of her thinking maybe these weren't your words, but rather someone elses.

"and what if i do-"

"has someone said something to you lovie?" your mum has this gut feeling in her stomach and her gut was rarely ever wrong, it was if it was her sixth sense. "like did something happen at the party you were at?" your mum continued to push for an answer as you lay still with you eyes facing away from your mum, worried that if you did look at her that the tears would start to fall.

you stayed silent for a moment, contemplating your next move. before slowly moving your eyes to make contact with your mums as you bit your lip. another few seconds passed before you nodded your head to your mum previous question.

"oh lovie" your mum pouted as she crumbled moving from her seat at the end of the bed to quickly engulf you in a much needed hug as the tears began to fall. your mum comforting you as you cried in her arms letting it all out as you began to relay the events of what happened at the party, what emilia said to you and then how you just began to drink to get rid of the pain.

alessia's heart breaking for you, being told such harsh words from someone you considered to be a very close friend. it wasn't fair and the world was a cruel place. your mum wishing she could wrap you up in bubble wrap and protect you from anything you came in front of.

"she doesn't deserve to have you as a friend and you don't need people like that in your life lovie. thats not what a true friend does-" your mum comforted you as a few stray sniffles came from you as you knew what your mum was telling you was right. emilia didn't deserve to call you her friend.

"and anyways she won't be saying that when your on the big stage, playing for your club and country!" your mum smiled softly as your furrowed your eyebrows. "you really think that'll happen-"

"of course! you could play rings around some players you come against" you stayed in your mums arms a little more as she continued to comfort you as she continued to build your confidence and ego back up that clearly had took some serious damage.

"you'll always be my favourite player, y/n russo." your mum smiled sweetly at you as she placed a kiss to your forehead. you knew the topic of your recent behaviour and how you spent your spare time would come up and alessia definitely knew she needed to have a chat with you about that but right now you needed love and comfort which is exactly what you got as you sunk into her warm and loving arms further.

448 notes · View notes

negrowhat · 2 months ago

Text

2024 BL Superlatives

Thanks @lurkingshan for bringing this back!!!!!!!!! Sorry if mine is super long, but I did taper it down a bit.

Best Love in this Tub Scene- For Him. For Him is not a good series. At all, but that TUB SCENE???? 10/10. Honestly I loved the main couple and I wish I could extract them from that horrendous series.

Best Snot-Nosed Kiss Between A Husband and Wife-Meet You At The Blossom. The first kiss in the first ever uncensored Wuxia DID NOT disappoint. It was so sweet and passionate and I know it was freezing cold in that room because there was snot everywhere and I loved every moment of it. Also the makeup department did a good job of making them both look so sickly.

Fave Bittersweet Happy Ending-Love for Love's Sake. I think this series was perfection and it made me cry buckets. I know the series technically ended happily, Myungha and Yeowoon were together, but it hurt me that Myungha had to find his happiness beyond his life. But he did achieve ultimate peace. It felt bittersweet to me and I did cry about it for several days.

Best Make Up Dickdown-Love in the Big City. Go Young's relationship with Young Su was toxic as fuck BUT that one makeup sex scene they had was the best love scene in the whole series. I'm all for a good dick down to combat a heated argument.

Best Torn Up Contract Reaction-Love Sea. The second Tongrak ripped up his contract with Mahasamut the gloves came off. Mahasamut didn't waste time kicking Tongrak's sperm donor's ass and we all cheered! Mahasmut is such a MAN.

Best Use of an Umbrella-Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo. That very ending scene when Juyeong picks Dohoe up from school. It's raining outside and Juyeong is just smiling so brightly and it makes Dohoe smile and Dohoe sprints across the courtyard to meet Juyeong. It was the first time Dohoe ever looked genuinely happy. It was so fucking perfect.

Best Wet Dream had by a 124 Year Old Man-Century of Love. I was going to say Fox Vixen Vee because what a masterpiece of a dream that was, but we're here for San's first wet dream. It was filled with so much emotion. A confession, tears flowing, passionate kisses, and San stripping Vee and himself down. Only to be awakened by a glass of water tipping over. What did that glass of water signify??? Grandpa San's first nut in 100 years. Epic. San could deny Vee all he wanted but that dream confirmed he was sexually attracted to that man.

Ugliest Wedding-Wandee Goodday. Okay I adore OyeiCher but their wedding was so unpleasing to the eye. I hated pretty much everything about it but I did cheer for them getting married. They're truly one of the best already established couples I've ever seen..but they really should've called Namnuea to plan the wedding.

Most Daring Rescue-Two Worlds. Tai rescuing Kram from his father's clutches after Phupha and Jao abandoned him. Tai infiltrated that site like a fucking ghost. Putting on that undertaker costume to swoop in and save his boy who had practically given up on life. Oh I loved the way Kram clung to Tai and how Tai was just so calm and collected. Sure Phupha helped but he deserves no praise.

Messiest Cooking Competition Not Televised-This Love Doesn't Have Long Beans. Between the cheating, lies, deception, and SEX that competition would've been a HUGE reality TV hit. And if Chef Oab had put up cameras in the restaurant everyone would've been able to witness his hot, horny, and inappropriate relationship with a contestant.

Best Dream Relationship-4 Minutes. Wild GreatTyme's most organic and healthy relationship was a dream sequence in Tyme's dying brain. His 4 Minutes was the best version of that relationship.

Best English Lesson-Jack & Joker. Definitely the most emotionally charged English Lesson I've ever seen and now I feel a tingle whenever I hear the word 'Confess' or 'Promise'. Jack was not at all subtle about letting Jack know he wanted him by his side.

Best Popsicle-Dick-Sucking Entendre. Every You, Every Me. Sian came around that corner wearing only a towel and sucking sensually on a flesh-colored-phallic-shaped popsicle. He knew exactly what the fuck he was doing and he just wanted Blue to know that he was ready to suck him off whenever he wanted. Bravo.

Best Series I Never Got-Your Dear Daddy. BECAUSE WHERE THE FUCK IS IT??? I've been waiting for Fluke Pusit and Saeng Nuea impatiently for entirely too fucking long. GIVE IT TO ME NOW!

#bl superlatives 2024 #for him #for him the series #meet you at the blossom #love for love's sake #love in the big city #love sea #let free the curse of taekwondo #century of love #wandee goodday #two worlds #this love doesn't have long beans #4 minutes #jack and joker #every you every me #your dear daddy #your dear daddy the series

297 notes · View notes

l00se-can0n · 2 months ago

Text

i'm not done with my christian linke slander. his response to fans' complaints about vi's characterization (or lack thereof) in season 2 is very disappointing. there is nothing wrong with wanting more attention for other characters but ffs, vi is THE protagonist of the series. there should've been more attention on her loneliness after breaking up with caitlyn, struggling with change, and her thought process of becoming an enforcer; all of that felt like an afterthought in season 2. it's not like a character having disproportionate screentime was ever a problem either. jinx and vi had the most screentime in season 1, but the other characters still felt fully fleshed out and interesting. i really hope linke doesn't work on the upcoming lol tv adaptations, you should not be a show runner if you can't listen to reasonable fan criticism.

#vi #vi arcane #vi deserves better #arcane critical #arcane #anti christian linke

325 notes · View notes

lxvvie · 10 months ago

Text

Freely Using Ghost, A Tale of Two Brats edition:

Being bored and wanting to love up on someone, Simon specifically. Cornering him, using his chain as leverage to pull his face closer, your big bear of a man expecting some fuck and suck, only for you to kiss the side of his mouth, tell him what a good boy he is, boop his nose, and leave. Well, what the fuck?

Simon wanting to kiss you, wanting to feel your lips against his, wanting to shove his tongue down your throat but you keep laughing. Or pecking his lips when he really wants to deepen it. Fuck, you even blew into his mouth once and giggled like a madman when he glared. But he sees the mischievous glint in your eyes. Sees the challenge in them. Fuck it.

Sexually Frustrated Simon being a grumpy grape because he should've been balls and/or tongue deep in your cunt yesterday but you keep. fuckin'. teasing. him. Simon trying his best to keep his composure but the voice messages you keep sending of you fucking yourself, moaning his name, and fuckin' telling him all the things you'd do to him are taking its toll. WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!

Surprising Ghost with a blowjob but it's really so you can put the really cute cockring you purchased while he was away right where it belongs. And Simon wants to spontaneously combust. 😘

Playing with Simon's dick absentmindedly while watching TV. Looking up and Simon's dark eyes boring into yours. Because you're playing with his dick. His very hard, leaking dick. You put your finger in your mouth, tasting some of his precum. Your eyes never leave Simon's and deep breaths, mate. He's trying to keep calm even though he wants to facefuck you. You wink and go back to watching TV, a job well done, and if Simon could fuckin' disappear into the couch, he would. Bloody fuckin' tease.

Not wanting to fuck but wanting to suck. And leave hickeys. And so you do, on just about every expanse of Simon's body, especially his thighs. You touched and kissed and sucked on EVERY BLOODY PLACE EXCEPT HIS COCK. FUCK!

Simon finally snaps and you're on the receiving end of a series of sexually frustrated texts from Simon because fuck you. fuck you so fuckin much you drive him crazy fuck he can't stop thinking about you and your cunt and stoping fucking teasing him and just fucking FUCK him fUCK. You only text back, "lmao ❤️ ". Oh, fuck you.

Simon getting you back. By being the big spoon this time. So you can feel him press against your ass. Deliberately. "Don't you want to switch and be the little spoon, Si?" "Make me." Well, shit. He got you there. Payback's a 6'4", grumpy asshole, ain't it?

Simon finally being balls deep inside you, fucking out what seems like an eternity's worth of frustration in his body. Simon fucking you, hands intertwined with yours, lips pressed against his own, and he makes you cum multiple times over. Simon fucking you dumb—FINALLY—until you make him ruin his orgasm. shit—"Can't let you get off that easy, Si-bear! ❤️" Bloody fuckin' hell. You'll be the death of him. But all's fair in war and cunt and cock, luv.

566 notes · View notes

riddlerosehearts · 1 year ago

Text

thinking about how people who watch the emperor's new groove and somehow come out of it shipping pacha and kuzco, or thinking yzma only became evil when kuzco fired her and that she would've been a better ruler than him, are both so wrong in so many different ways and are also missing one of the things that i absolutely love about the movie. which is that, the way i see it, pacha and yzma are counterparts. as parental figures to kuzco.

like, just to get this out of the way first, yzma was a dismissive asshole to a peasant whose family was starving. and yeah, if kuzco had been in her place he definitely would've also done that, which... is why she would not be a better ruler than him. she'd just be the same because they're both horrible people in the exact same ways. her reaction to being fired is to plot murder, and as soon as his funeral is over she sets everyone to work on replacing paintings of kuzco with paintings of herself and covering the palace with imagery that makes it clear that it's all about her now. i'm not even sure why this is a discussion tbh.

and also, kuzco is literally a teenager. he's barely 18 years old. source: in the movie, yzma says at his funeral that kuzco was "taken from us so tragically on the very eve of his eighteenth birthday." she also claims in the movie to have "practically raised" him, to which kronk replies "yeah, you'd think he would've turned out better". and sure, she could be exaggerating, but what evidence do we have that she is? we learn absolutely nothing of his parents, who are never mentioned even once in the movie, or of anyone else who could've raised him, and she's his advisor who for some reason sees no problem with attending to royal duties in his place. most likely because she's his regent. also, i'm not exactly a fan of the sequel tv series "the emperor's new school" but it does have something that backs up my point: kuzco is revealed to be an orphan and just before his father went and got lost at sea, he asked yzma (who was also his advisor) to take care of kuzco if anything happened to him. so, yeah, the writers who worked on the series clearly thought that yzma genuinely did raise kuzco, and nothing in the movie contradicts this.

and i find the idea of her being his only parental figure for pretty much his whole childhood incredibly interesting because, and this also goes back into why she wouldn't be a better ruler than him--she mirrors him as a reflection of what would've become of him if he'd never met pacha. they're both incredibly arrogant, power-hungry, selfish, and cruel, with a tendency to blame their problems on everyone but themselves. yzma was even originally going to have her own reprise of kuzco's theme song "perfect world", which i really wish had been kept:

[ID: Lyrics that read:

I'Il be the sovereign queen of the nation And the chicest chick in creation I'm the cat with all the cream and ooh-la-la This deadly concentration Will put an end to my frustration Now this perfect world begins and ends with moi

What's my name? Yzma, Yzma, Yzma Yzma (what's my name?) Yzma, Yzma (What'd you say?) Yzma (Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!) Yzma. End ID]

(this song can be fully heard in "the sweatbox", the documentary about the making of the movie, and is also on youtube btw)

anyway, i'm sure yzma would not exactly have been the most nurturing or hands-on guardian, especially given that she and kuzco don't exactly treat each other like family. but it makes a lot of sense to think that her behavior influened kuzco's throughout the years. and for the entire movie, she remains determined to kill him. when he tries to reason with her and admits that he should've been nicer, she says the same thing to him that he originally said when he fired her. she never grows or changes and in the end, she hurts the one person who was willing to stand by her (and even then, kronk had never fully been on board with her plan) and he ends up trying to crush her with a chandelier. kuzco on the other hand is able to realize the error of his ways, come to regret who he was in the past, and start taking steps toward being a better person. his theme song gets a reprise where it's changed from a song about one person being the center of the world to a Power Of Friendship song. why? because, as i've already mentioned, he has pacha.

pacha, who similarly to both yzma and kuzco is in a position of authority as the leader of the village but unlike either of them is gentle and humble. who isn't afraid to stand up to kuzco and be honest with him even though he's the emperor, who agrees to take him back to the palace but has no obligation to be so helpful, kind, and caring toward him--and just about every reason not to be--and still chooses to be anyway. pacha who is 45 years old (also stated in the sweatbox documentary) and can see that kuzco is practically still a kid, not a single day over 18, who has time to grow and change. pacha, who already has a wife and two kids with another on the way, but practically treats kuzco like one of his own. who acknowledges that if kuzco dies all his problems will be gone and then still worries about him and goes out of his way to rescue him after he wanders into the jungle. who sees kuzco shivering at night and covers him with his poncho, who carries him when he's genuinely too weak to keep walking, who refuses to give up on him even after repeatedly being betrayed by him because he believes there's good in everyone.

also, while yzma ends up repeating kuzco's harsh words of dismissal as she tells him of her plans to kill him, kuzco had previously repeated pacha's words that "nobody's that heartless" after he saved pacha's life. and as the movie progresses kuzco and pacha's relationship becomes more and more equal and is constantly contrasted by moments of yzma being cruel and unappreciative of kronk's kindness. a good example of this is how kronk is constantly being forced to carry yzma everywhere on his back while yzma literally walks all over him and steps on his hands when she gets down, whereas when pacha briefly carries kuzco after the latter collapses he tells him he'll have to walk the rest of the way later and kuzco doesn't even protest.

idk if i'm even explaining well what i'm trying to say here. but basically, if yzma actually raised kuzco and contributed to his current behavior, then she and pacha both are figures who guided him and helped him grow. only yzma helped him become the tyrant that he was at the start of the movie, who was selfish and callous and saw everyone else as beneath him. whereas pacha helped him see the value in being selfless and considerate of others. and in the end, yzma is stuck as a cat and nobody is concerned about her. kronk has found a new job that makes him genuinely happy, while kuzco has decided to build a hut on the hill next to pacha's and effectively joined his family. in the sweatbox documentary it's even mentioned that chicha and the kids were at risk of being removed from the film, but it was decided that they needed to be there because having just pacha as a single guy who lived alone wasn't interesting enough--kuzco needed to go from having basically an empty world where he had nobody to being able to come together with pacha's whole family. and i just think that's incredibly satisfying and beautiful. it also leads up to one of the few things i really do enjoy about the emperor's new school, which is the fact that during the show kuzco moves in with pacha and chicha and pretty explicitly thinks of them as basically his parents while he's like a son to them.

idk. i feel like my mind went in a million different directions while i was writing all this. but i guess i just think that for all of the praise the emperor's new groove gets for its comedy and for how hilarious yzma and kronk in particular are as a duo, the movie also has a lot of genuine heart that gets overlooked. kuzco's character growth and his unique dynamic with pacha is, for me, really what elevates the movie from just a funny movie that i like to one of my favorite disney movies. and i wish more people appreciated that aspect of it and saw it as a found family story in the same way that treasure planet, brother bear, and lilo and stitch are all found family stories.

#disney #the emperor's new groove #help i wrote a whole essay about this movie #and i didn't even mention how much i love the way kuzco's home life is contrasted with pacha's #ugh. they have one of the most interesting and unique dynamics ever in a disney movie. i love them #love how kuzco gets away from yzma's toxic influence by way of accidentally being adopted #by the guy whose village he almost destroyed for a theme park #they're ENEMIES to FOUND FAMILY.... sobs #kuzco #pacha #yzma #kronk

722 notes · View notes

annwrites · 8 months ago

Text

⸻ forever. ⸻

· pairing: billy hargrove x fem!reader · type: part of a series · summary: you & billy go to a vegas casino. the next day, you have a scare & make a commitment. · word count: 7,560

The next day, you and Billy stay snuggled up in bed watching TV.

Even though Billy continuously changes the channel every few minutes as soon as you get interested in something just to drive you nuts. The two of you nap, eat, talk, and every once in a while, get on each other’s nerves just for fun.

But, as you lie with your head on his chest and he with his fingers in your hair, you’re completely content to fall back asleep listening to his steady breathing and the beat of his heart.

You wake in the middle of the night to Billy tossing and turning beside you while muttering unintelligibly.

His brows are furrowed, and his body is slick with sweat.

You cup his cheek in your hand, and quietly shoosh him, while telling him to wake up.

When his eyes do finally open, they're full of fear.

He gazes up at you and his face crumples.

"Oh, baby doll," he says before burying his face between your breasts and wrapping his arms around you.

You twine your fingers in his hair and hold him to you. "It was just a nightmare. It's okay."

"I lost you," he whispers. "You...fuck, you stopped breathing. I—"

"Shh, it wasn't real. I'm right here. Shh."

You let him cry softly against your chest until you eventually manage to coax him back to sleep by reassuring him over and over again that you're all better now, that you're still here.

"I love you. Just try and go back to sleep. I'll be right here when you wake up, okay?"

He nods, pulling you closer. "I love you, too."

While still a tad under the weather, you feel far better the next day, and are honestly itching to get out of the motel room, even if it's just to go sit outside, or ride shotgun while Billy drives around letting you sight-see.

You're just coming out of the bathroom, dressed and ready to go, when Billy comes back into the room carrying breakfast with him.

He kicks the door closed with his boot, and he has a brown paper bag held between his teeth, with to-go cups in one arm, and a couple more bags in the other.

He looks up to you with a raised brow as he begins setting everything down and then he nods toward the bed. "Take all that off and get back into bed."

You come over to him. "I feel better today. I'm tired of being stuck in this room, Billy. It's been days now. Can we please go do something?"

You bat your lashes at him, then press yourself against him, and he groans as you slip a hand in his pocket. "Pretty please?"

Before he can tell you, yet again, to get back into bed, you swiftly remove your hand, with his keys now dangling from your fingers.

He sighs, holding out his hand. "Yeah, you're hilarious. C'mon, give 'em."

You back up a step and hide them behind your back. "As soon as you promise to let me out of here."

He studies you for a moment. "Maybe in another day or—"

"No, today."

He crosses his arms, his jaw flexing. "I said no. And that's final."

You step closer to him and reach out for his hand, but he snatches it away.

"No. Do...do you have any idea what you put me through? I thought..." He shakes his head. "Don't ever fucking do that again, alright?"

Your lip twitches. "I will do my utmost to never get sick again. I promise."

You press yourself against his chest then. "Now let me outside."

He sighs. "Only once you've had breakfast."

You snuggle closer. "Deal."

"If you so much as sneeze, I'm taking your ass back."

You roll your eyes.

He's been like this since before you stepped out the door. He even forced a thermometer under your tongue before letting you go out, which had read a perfect 98.7°—a temperature that should've pleased him, but he'd instead frowned.

You've tried joking that he just wants to keep you all to himself for another day, but you know it’s because he’s terrified of you getting sick again.

You turn in your seat to face him and run your fingers through his hair.

He fights against his lip twitching at the tender gesture, and then he sighs. "Alright, where to? Unless you want me to pick?"

He looks at you then with a smirk now on his face. "We are in Sin City. Could always hit a sex shop, then head back and create our own entertainment for the day."

You lean over and kiss him deeply, and when you pull away, he has a brow raised, thinking he's talked you into it.

"Nice try."

He leans back, and rolls his eyes as he turns the car over.

"Billy, stop, we can't go in. This is ridiculous. They're never going to buy your fake; I'm sure they see them everyday."

Billy is currently pulling you alongside him...into Caesar's Palace.

He'd gotten the idea to go gambling, and not even offering to go to a sex shop to try on skimpy lingerie manages to talk him out of it. You even throw in that he can finally cuff you to whatever he wants and have his way with you if he’ll only turn back around, but he doesn’t listen to a word.

You've tried tugging unsuccessfully against his hand, unable to pull him back an inch in the other direction. Instead, he leads you further inside. And, just when he thinks—ignorantly—as he passes the hotel lobby, headed in the direction of the casino floor, he’s about to get away with it, a large man dressed in a suit, who’s probably twice the size of Billy, steps in his way.

Billy doesn’t shrink away from his authoritative presence, but you hide yourself just the least bit behind him as you glance up shyly to the security guard.

"Somewhere you're headed?" He asks—his voice a deep baritone tune.

Billy looks up at him with a bored expression, nodding behind him. "Got a few greenbacks that're just burnin' a hole in my pocket."

He goes to step past him, but the man side-steps, once again blocking him.

"ID card, pal."

Billy retrieves his wallet, and hands him the requested piece of information.

He studies it with a raised brow, then looks at Billy.

"Billy Squier? You really thought someone would buy that?" He tosses it back to him. "Go on, get out of here."

Billy shrugs, tucking his wallet back away. "Like I can help that we share the same name."

He smirks, flashing him a dazzling smile. "The Stroke is a damn good song, though, ain't it?"

He glances at you, then back to the security guard.

The man chooses to ignore Billy, honing in on you. "You got a fake for me, too? Let me guess: Stevie Nicks? No. Cindy Lauper."

You hold Billy's hand more tightly. "I—"

Billy interrupts you. "She left hers in the car."

He lets go of your hand.

"Listen, man, what's it going to take? My money's good, ain't it?"

He pulls out a wad of rolled up cash, counts out a few bills, then reaches forward, and he feigns shaking his hand—the bills disappearing into the other man's grip. "Just trying to show my girl a good time. What, you've never been young and in love before?"

"You ever been employed before, kid?"

He shoves the money back against Billy's chest. "Go on, before I have to use force."

Billy gives him a glare before turning back around and wrapping his arm around your waist. "C'mon, baby, we'll go blow a grand at Circus Circus instead."

Somehow, you and Billy get lucky at the next casino. You show up just when the security guards are changing shifts and sneak right in. Your heart is pounding, and you can’t tell whether it’s your palm or his that’s sweaty, but you eventually come to wrap your arms around one of his as he weaves between slot machines and craps tables.

You glance around and lights twinkle in your wide eyes in the dim lighting. The space is illuminated by colorful overhead chandeliers, and neon slot machines. There's even a section of the room that's modeled after a carousel.

You look up to Billy then, continuing to walk alongside him.

"Can I play a slot machine?" You ask sweetly.

"Once I win at blackjack."

You frown. "Do you even know how?"

He stops, turning back to you. "Baby, I've got skills you've never seen."

You hook your finger on his black half-unbuttoned shirt. "That's likely."

He shakes his head. "Keep it up."

When he turns away, you smack his ass and he laughs.

You stand behind Billy, actually impressed.

He'd not been lying about knowing how to play cards. While nearly every other person sitting at the table had eventually folded, or busted more times than they were comfortable with, and thus left with bruised egos, Billy's chips are just continuing to pile up.

You don’t like the way some people are eyeing his winnings, however.

You lean down close to his ear as he holds his cards close to his chest. "Billy, I think that's enough—"

"After this hand."

You sigh, frowning. "You said that twenty minutes ago."

He taps two fingers against the table and the dealer slides another card his way.

"Like I can help that I'm on a roll."

He looks up at you, smirking. "Think you might be my little good-luck charm."

You shift on your feet. "You have way more than you came in with now. Can I please just go try a slot machine?"

He glances at the dealer and watches as he turns over a card, and a smile breaks out across Billy's face as he throws his own cards down before slamming his fists against the table. "Woo! Winner winner, baby!"

He pulls more chips in his direction, which you quickly grab in your fists, heading in another direction with them. You hear him curse from behind you, but he quickly gathers the remaining ones on the table before following you to go cash in.

After finishing up with the casino’s teller, Billy securely pockets away a few hundred dollars—practically beaming from his winnings. He then hands you a five and nods toward the slot machines. “Go nuts.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Only five dollars?”

He leans down close to you. “You want more, guess you’ll have to blow me.”

Your expression then morphs into a scowl. “You’re so—”

“Y’know, my dice, when I play craps later?”

You turn your back to him, and head toward a slot machine. “That is so not what you meant.”

“Not my fault that my cock is all you can think about.”

After losing once, you’d been ready to burn the entire building down. But after a few times? You’re seething.

You yank on the arm one last time and it then demands more money.

“Oh, that is such bull. It took all my money!”

Billy glances at a few others who are seated at nearby machines, and a muscle in his jaw feathers when he sees them looking your way as you continue to make a scene.

“I didn’t win once. This game is rigged. I want a different machine!”

He can’t believe you’re getting this upset over losing five dollars that hadn’t even been yours to begin with, anyway.

“Honey—”

“Don’t honey me, I want another five,” you state, holding out your hand.

He crosses his arms. “I think someone might have a bit of a gambling problem.”

The vein in the middle of your forehead makes an appearance—he’s never seen that trick before. “I wanted cherries. I kept getting fucking bananas and—”

He steps closer to you, needing to calm you before someone calls security. “Sweetheart, I will give you all the banana you want when we get back to the motel. But right now—”

“I said cherries! See, you’re not even listening to me.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose.

Good Lord, you’re acting like a little kid. And he typically relies on you to be the mature one. Seeing you so pissed had been funny at first, but now you’re getting a bit scary.

“Alright, fine, I will pop your cherry when—”

You lean your head back and groan in irritation.

“Too late for that now, isn’t it?” You state, leveling him with your gaze.

He finally reaches up and squeezes your cheeks until your lips are puckered. “You want to get us kicked out?”

“No,” you mutter through fish lips.

He smirks.

You look adorable like this. So tiny and angry with your face all squished in his strong grip. Like a pissed off kitten. “If I give you another five, will you promise—if you lose—to control your temper, and behave yourself, and not be a sore loser?”

“Yes.”

He releases you, giving you the promised amount of cash.

“Motherfu—”

He yanks you up from the stool by your upper-arm before you can finish that expletive. “Alright, time to go. You’ve had enough.”

“Just give me another—”

“Nope, you’ve had enough.”

“But—”

“No buts. C’mon. You’d leave us high and dry if I let you have your way.”

“You are so not getting lucky tonight.”

“Already did. Sounds like you’re the one who didn’t.”

“Oh, you son of a—”

Once the two of you are back at the motel, you’ve thankfully calmed down.

Billy is almost afraid to leave not just his money, but the keys to the Camaro anywhere you can get to them, lest you return to the casino for a second round. Third, really.

But, once you’re in a bubble bath and softly humming to yourself as you wash up, he figures that you seemed well-enough over it.

After bathing, you stand over your bag of toiletries with shaking hands and wide eyes, and your heart hammers in your chest as you stare down at a tampon that’s been hidden at the bottom of the bag.

You’re late. Very late, by your standards. Your period has always been like clockwork. If it is ever ‘late’, it’s by no more than a day. Ever. And even that is a rare occurrence. Far and few between times has it happened.

But today makes five days.

The two of you have used protection every time. But…what if there had been a hole in one of the condoms? Or some of his semen somehow leaked out or…

That night on top of the Camaro.

But he’d finished on your stomach. Not inside of you.

No.

This isn’t happening.

You are not—

“Are you about done in there? I need to take a piss.”

You jolt, and drop the plastic tube on the floor, before turning to stare at the closed door, unable to form a single word. Until you manage to choke out, “just a sec”.

“Gettin’ all dolled up for me just to go to bed?”

Your eyes sting with unshed tears.

God, you want him to just leave you be for a few more minutes so you can collect yourself. Because right now? You feel on the verge of a hysterical breakdown.

You glance at yourself in the mirror. Your face has gone pale, all blood is now drained from your lips, and your eyes are wide and terrified. And you’re shaking like a leaf.

You begin taking deep breaths, trying to calm yourself.

Oh God, you feel like you’re about to pass out.

It’s nothing.

You’ve been under a lot of stress lately, that is all. Yes, that makes perfect sense.

From the moment you left Hawkins, you’ve been on a non-stop rollercoaster of emotions. All the traveling, the fighting, worrying about money, worrying about each other, worrying about the future, you getting sick—it’s a perfect recipe for a late period.

And it’s only five days. Just because it’s typically always on time doesn’t mean it can’t be late every now and again, right? Sometimes bodies are weird. They don’t always operate how they’re supposed to. Obviously, or so many diseases and disabilities wouldn’t exist. And stress can wreak havoc on the healthiest of people. So, you have nothing to worry about. Right?

“Sweetheart?”

You quickly gather your things and do your utmost to ignore how your stomach is now in knots, and your shoulders are tense, and your jaw is locked tight.

You swing open the door and stare up at Billy.

“All yours,” you say, stepping past him.

A moment later, you hear him relieving himself.

You let out a breath of relief that he hadn’t noticed you’re now upset.

You barely touch your dinner.

Billy notices, but you use the excuse that you aren’t all that hungry’.

He stares at you for a moment before stealing one of your shrimp and telling you that he’ll eat them if you aren’t going to. He doesn’t notice your palm pressed firmly against your stomach beneath the table.

Once the two of you are in bed, you’d turn your back to him and try to fight back tears.

If…if you are…will happen to the two of you?

You’ve been so sure, since after that night in Texas, that you’ve finally found the one now. But this… A baby will ruin everything. He’ll leave you. This much he won’t stand for, you’re sure of it.

You’re both eighteen—kids yourselves. What the hell do either of you know about being parents? You don’t have any idea of how to be a proper mother, since you’d not been given an example of one yourself. And Billy has his history with his father.

You haven’t had that talk yet: what you want when it comes to kids. You don’t even know that he wants them in general. You don’t know what you want, either…

Just as your terror begins to grow, you feel his hand slide along your hip while his erection presses against your back.

You feel sick at the sensation of it. That part of him has now destroyed your entire life. And you’ll be the one forced to deal with the consequences—the fallout.

You’d been right to be abstinent before. This is his fault. He hadn’t stopped until he’d buried himself inside your head. He’d pushed and pulled, pushed and pulled until you didn’t know where else to run but into his arms.

No. You can’t think like that. He loves you. He’s made some mistakes, but you understand why; have chosen to forgive him. You love him, too. And what if you’re just getting yourself all worked up over nothing? What if you aren’t indeed pregnant, and are only causing yourself further stress, which will only serve to delay your period further?

Billy presses his lips to your neck, and he reaches under his t-shirt, which you’re wearing, cupping your breast. “Want me to help you get undressed, honey?”

You bite your lip until you taste blood—fighting back tears. “I’m really tired. Maybe not tonight.”

You say it so quietly that he barely hears you.

He presses a soft kiss to the back of your head. “Told you that you should’ve stayed in bed. But no one ever listens to Billy.”

You don’t respond. You just take his hand and wrap his arm around your waist, praying to God he doesn’t notice that your own is shaking.

You toss and turn most of the night.

At one point you lock yourself in the bathroom to cry while Billy sleeps. You clutch at your stomach and pray to God that you’re not what you think you are.

If you are, and he does leave you, what will you do? Where will you go? Everything will fall out from under your feet then. You’ll have nothing. No one. He’s your entire world. Everything. He’s everything. Your everything. You’ve come to lean so heavily on him—to rely on him at every turn.

If he leaves you behind… You want to die at the thought.

The next morning, you’re exhausted, and Billy quickly takes notice over breakfast, which you barely touch.

He brushes his foot against yours and he reaches for your hand, concerned with the lost-in-thought look on your face. Are you getting sick again?

“Baby?”

You look up at him. “Hm?”

“You alright, angel?” He asks before reaching up and pressing his palm to your forehead.

You don’t feel feverish…

You nod slightly, then look back down to your cereal, which is now just a bowl of mush, and idly stir it.

“I think you’re still just getting over that cold. I should’ve made you stay in yesterday. How about you go lie back down and get some rest. We’ll just hang out here for the rest of the day. Alright?”

You nod, then get up and strip before lying back down.

You quickly fall asleep.

When you wake, the TV is on and the volume is low.

Billy is sitting up, with one arm around you, holding you close to his leg.

You stare at the closed curtains, wondering what time it is, but don’t want to ask, because you don’t want to talk. You don’t want him to notice that something more is wrong than you just ‘being under the weather’, even if you know you feel back to normal now. You don’t want him to keep digging until you’re finally forced to cave and tell him what’s really going on.

So, you close your eyes instead, and force yourself back into a dreamless sleep.

Billy lets you sleep through lunch, but he now stands at the foot of the bed frowning, considering whether to wake you for dinner.

He’d gotten you a cheeseburger—one of your favorites—so he’s sure you’ll eat it.

He tucks some hair behind your ear, then gently shakes you awake.

“Dinner’s here, beautiful. Time to get up. Once you’ve eaten, you can go back to bed.”

You moan against the pillow, wishing he’d just left you be.

You don’t want to eat, because the moment you open your eyes, your stomach starts twisting into knots again. But you fight the feeling of nausea down, telling yourself to, at the very least, act fine. Pretend like you feel as much.

You sit up then and smile slightly at him.

He presses a kiss to your forehead. “How’re you feeling?”

You wrap your arms around his neck, and hide your face from his view. “Better.”

He sighs. “Good. That’s good.”

He leads you over to the table, and you force every bite down.

Billy makes another sexual advance that night, shortly after lying down.

He slips his hands between your legs. “I can do all the work tonight, if you want?”

You simply pressed yourself into his chest. “Could you just hold me instead? Maybe…maybe tomorrow.”

He remains silent as he slides his strong arms around you and holds you close, whispering that he loves you and to get some more rest. That he’s sure you’ll feel better in the morning.

You do not, in fact, feel better in the morning. More rested than the day previous, yes, but your nerves are fried.

You’d raced to the bathroom to…expel your bowels from nerves at least twice in the night, and now your stomach is truly on empty. But just the thought of eating makes you feel sick.

You lie in bed awake—even if you’d rather not be—and listen to Billy quietly snore beside you. You sit up, then gaze down at him, trying to memorize every line and facet of his face and body before you lose him for good.

Tears sting your eyes at the thought of being alone again. Though, you won’t be totally alone, you suppose.

If you are that…will it look like you, or him? Will it have his eyes? His beautiful head of hair?

You don’t think you can bear it: having to look upon a perfect reflection—reminder—of him every day, while simultaneously knowing he’s never coming back.

How could you have let this happen? What if you get rid of it instead? Somehow, that thought makes you feel worse. A little bundle that’s equal parts you and him…gone. Just as a tear slips down your cheek, he begins to wake.

You quickly wipe it away, and smile as he opens his eyes, while he looks up at you, stretching.

He reaches a hand up to your cheek, cupping it. “Morning, sweetheart.”

“Hi.”

“You been up long?”

You shake your head. “I just woke up a couple minutes before you did.”

“Admiring your sleeping beauty then, huh?”

You smile at the sarcastic comment. “Most certainly.”

He slides his other hand up your thigh, stopping close to your heat. “You want to?”

You shift under his touch.

How to tell him no yet again? You’ve not been intimate in days, and you worry that continuing to reject him will only serve to hurt him, if not make him suspicious. But the thought of him buried inside of you right now… You simply can’t.

He notices your silence and his smile fades.

“Guess not.”

He removes his hand before getting up. You watch silently as he nervously runs a hand through his hair.

“I’m gonna go take a leak,” he says before padding over to the bathroom and shutting the door behind him.

Your chin wobbles, knowing you did it anyway: hurt his feelings.

Billy lays on the horn, waiting for traffic to move. He glances at you who is busy staring out your open window.

He knows something is wrong, but you won’t tell him what.

He reaches over and slides his hand up your leg, and his ego takes a hit when you recoil at his touch. He sighs, then rests his hand back on the shifter.

“Come the fuck on, man!” He shouts at the line of cars in front of him.

He then looks back at you. “What? Are you still sick?”

You clasp your hands. “No. I’m just…tired.”

He leans his head back, rolling his eyes. “Heard that a lot the last couple days. Don’t know how. It’s not like we’ve screwed much recently.”

In all honesty, he doesn’t really care about that. He’s fine with waiting on you. It’s the fact that you’re keeping something from him that’re starting to really get under his skin.

You begin to shake from anger. “After everything, and that’s still all you still think about. Not like I should be surprised. Since we met that’s all you’ve thought with is what’s in your pants.”

He jerks his head in your direction.

The two of you haven’t fought like this in a minute. “Excuse me?”

“You want to get laid? We’re in Vegas. Go pick up some hooker on the strip. You should have enough for it after the other night at the casino, I’m sure.”

He grips the wheel tighter. “The fuck is your problem? Huh? You got somethin’ you want to say to me?”

You look at him, and his expression softens when he sees the tears gathering in your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you say, your voice breaking before you bury your head in your hands.

He unbuckles, then reaches over and wraps his arms around your trembling frame. “Shh. Baby, please tell me what the fuck is going on. Did…did I do something?”

How to say yes and no?

You look up at him then with tears now streaming down your cheeks. “I’m late.”

His brows furrow. “Late? Late for wha—”

His face falls, and all color drains from it in an instant, leaving him lightheaded. He remains calm, as calm as he can manage—for the moment.

“How late?” He asks, deathly serious.

“F-five days.”

“And the latest you’ve ever been is?”

“A day. And rarely, at that.”

He stares at you for a moment, then swerves onto the shoulder, parks, and he quickly gets out, slamming the door behind him.

“Fuck! Motherfuck! Why does this shit keep happening to me? It’s going great one minute, then it all just turns to shit!”

You turn away from the window then, refusing to listen anymore as you begin to sob while clutching your stomach. You reach forward, toward the dash, now hyperventilating, and you try to catch your breath as your ears begin to ring.

A moment later, Billy gets back in the car, then forces his way back into traffic.

“We’re not going to freak out until you’ve taken a piss test and we know for sure,” he states.

Both of you stand in the family-planning aisle of a CVS, staring at their plethora of a selection of pregnancy tests.

Billy reaches forward with a shaking hand and he grabs a two-pack in a pink box.

“Should… Do you want this one?” He asks, looking at you.

You shrug, your lower lip trembling.

He puts it back, grabbing a blue box next. “This one sounds like it should be fairly accurate. Ninety-eight percent.”

He tosses it back onto the shelf. “Why the fuck are there so many? What’s the goddamn difference? I mean, Jesus, it’s like buying condoms. I mean, the things are supposed to be fuckin’ fool-proof, right? Why make shit that leaves you guessing in a situation like this? It’s ridiculous.”

You stay quiet, knowing he’s talking more to himself than he is to you.

He picks the blue box back up in one hand, grabs your hand in his other, and he leads you up front to the register.

Billy tosses the test onto the counter, and the older woman behind it eyes up the two of you as she scans the box, telling Billy his total.

You just stare at the floor as he pulls out a bill, telling her to keep the change.

“You all have a public restroom?”

Billy waits outside the door as you go, and silent tears slip down your cheeks as you place the cap back on the test, then set it on the sink to wait.

It’s maybe two minutes later before his patience has worn through and he pounds on the door, making you jump. “What’s takin’ so long?”

You walk over and crack the door open before staring up at him. “It takes fifteen minutes.”

His brows raise. “Are you fuckin’ kidding me?”

He barges in and shuts the door behind him. “Why the hell don’t they put that on the goddamn box?”

“They did,” you reply quietly, showing it to him—right on the front. “See?”

He snatches it away from you, staring at it like it’s his own worst enemy, then tossing it in the trash.

He begins to pace back and forth in the small space with his hands on his hips.

Meanwhile, you stand silently against the wall and watch him.

“I can’t believe this is fucking happening. This—coming out here—getting to California, was supposed to be a new fucking start and now… I’m eighteen-goddamn-years-old. I can’t be a dad yet. I’m not ready. I mean, Jesus, I don’t know that I want kids ever. I can’t stand ‘em now. Annoying little shits. And they’re expensive as hell. Even if you think you’re ready, you’re fuckin’ not. We don’t even have a place to live. What? Am I gonna stick a crib in the fucking backseat of the Camaro? Fuck!”

When he looks at you, his heart drops.

You’re standing against the wall shaking, with tears streaming down your face while you bite your lip to try and keep quiet. Both of your hands are clutching your stomach, and your face has gone pale.

“I’ll get rid of it,” you whisper.

Then you continue, “Oh God, what’s happening to me? I can’t… I can’t do this alone. What am I supposed to do? How…how am I going to live? What will happen to my baby?”

You hang your head and begin to sob.

You think he’s going to leave you? Alone? To this?

He steps over and quickly wraps his arms around you. “I’m sorry. Baby, I’m right here. Sweetheart, look at me.”

He takes your face in his hands. “Angel, I’m not going anywhere. If you are…it’s not like I didn’t play a part in it. You should know by now that I’m in this for the long haul—that you’re it for me. I know you deserve better than me. You always will. But I’ll try my best, alright? To be a good dad, I mean. I had a shitty fuckin’ example, but maybe I can learn from his mistakes. I’ll take care of you.”

He presses a palm to your stomach then. “Both of you. We’ll…we’ll get married. I’ll be better than he was. I have to be. You deserve that.”

You blink up at him, now speechless. Did…did he just propose? “You…want to get married?”

He smiles, kissing your forehead. “It’s the right thing to do. But I’m not gettin’ down on one knee, if that’s what you’re expecting. Not in this nasty fuckin’ restroom, anyway.”

You glance to the test. “I think it’s been enough time now.”

You walk over to it and fill with relief—joy—when you see the minus sign.

You double over the sink, laughing lightly. All that stress and for nothing. Nothing at all.

“Oh, thank God!” You exclaim, laughing some more, feeling like all is right in the world again.

“I’m not pregnant. We don’t have to get married now! We can just—”

You stop talking when you turn around and see that Billy isn’t nearly as elated as you are. He’s not even smiling. Nor is he looking at you. Instead, his hands are gripping the metal support beam behind him, and his eyes are trained on the floor.

“I—”

He quickly brushes past you then, wrenching the door open. “Let’s go.”

Once the two of you have returned to the motel, he still hasn’t spoken another word to you.

He instead goes into the bathroom and slams the door behind him. He even goes so far as to lock while he showers.

You press your ear up against the door and listen to try and ensure that he’s okay, but can hear nothing over the sound of water.

So, you instead sit on the edge of the bed and patiently wait and think of how best to apologize for what you said.

You’d just been so sure that he would be relieved as well. He said it himself: that he isn’t ready for a baby yet. Then you wonder…had it been your comment about marriage that upset him?

Is…is he ready for that? Are you? When you think of it: wearing a ring he’s chosen for you and taking his last name while vowing to spend your life next to him, it doesn’t fill you with fear or doubt or unease. It fills you with love, joy, and a feeling of security.

When Billy emerges quite some time later, he tries to hide it, but you see it: his eyes are bloodshot.

Your heart breaks, now knowing what took him so long.

He had been crying.

You pad over to him and wrap your arms around his middle as he chooses a t-shirt for bed. He doesn’t do that, though: wear pajamas to lie down next to you. And now he suddenly feels the need to shield himself from you?

You press your cheek to his bare back. “Did you mean what you said about getting mar—”

“Just fuckin’ drop it, alright? You’re not knocked-up, so now we don’t have to get hitched. Let’s just go to bed.”

“But—”

“Like you’d want to anyway.”

“I do.”

He freezes, suddenly imagining you saying those words in a different context.

He slowly turns back around to you. “What?”

You stand on tiptoes and wrap your arms around his neck before running your fingers through his damp curls. “I want to if you do.”

He tucks a lock of hair behind your ear. “Really?”

You smile, nodding. “I’m sorry for what I said. I wasn’t thinking. I was just relieved that I wasn’t pregnant. I…I’m already yours in every other way. Why not this one, too? Billy, no one else is ever going to love me the way you have—do. Just like you, I don’t want anyone else. You’re what I want. I can’t imagine having to start over with someone else after…after all of this. The thought of losing you…it was tearing me apart. Having to think of living a life without you in it…”

You trail off for a moment, swallowing down the lump that’s forming in your throat. “I’ll marry you.”

His lip twitches and his eyes grow glassy.

He then crushes you to his chest and he holds you close while cradling the back of your head. “Okay.”

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻

You and Billy are currently browsing through selections of gently-used clothing at a local thrift store, trying to pick out outfits to wear to the Little White Chapel. But every white dress you come across has something wrong with it: holes, tears, rips, yellowing, or it’s just a tad outdated, or way too frilly.

Until you find a hanger buried behind numerous other items.

As you look the dress over, you begin to smile.

You then wander over to Billy, who’s looking through men’s dress clothes, and poke him in the back.

When he turns, a grin forms on his face.

He grips the soft material, looking at you. It’s a white babydoll dress with silver sparkles that dance against the material from the overhead fluorescent lighting. There’s even a matching veil.

“It kind of smells like mothballs,” you say.

He smirks. “Don’t worry, baby, you won’t be wearing it long.”

Once Billy has picked out a pair of dress slacks that he feels are a tad too tight—until he notices that you’re unable to remove your eyes from his rear, which causes him to deem that they fit just fine after all—as well as a white button-up shirt, he goes over to the lingerie, and he gets lucky when he finds you a garter.

The two of you then go up, and you stand by his side and smile up at him as he pays for your purchases, and then he asks about using the changing room.

Once the two of you emerge, even he’s blushing.

So, you take his hand in yours, and head back out to the car together.

“Can we stop at a pawn shop first?”

He glances to you. “For?”

You reach in the backseat, grab a shoulder bag, then pull your dad’s Rolex out. “I want to trade this. For a ring. For you.”

He nods then, sniffling. “Course, baby.”

“What about that one?”

Billy shakes his head. “It’s fuckin’ hideous.”

You raise a brow.

He’s worse than a woman when it comes to jewelry, apparently.

You squint while staring into the late-night pawn shop’s display case, before you kneel in front of it and practically press your face up against the glass.

You smile and point while looking up to the middle-aged shop-keep behind it. “Can I see that one?”

He nods, then unlocks the display before grabbing the ring you indicated, and he hands it to you.

You grab Billy’s left hand, and slide it onto his ring finger. And it’s a perfect fit—a simple gold band.

You stare up at him.

He looks at the man. “Will the Rolex cover this?”

“More than,” he replies with a smile.

Billy looks back at you. “We’ll take it.”

Once the two of you are sitting in the parking lot of the small chapel, it’s only then that you notice that Billy is shaking.

You reach for him, but he quickly exits the car, then makes his way around to your side and he opens your door for you.

He doesn’t look at you, however.

You then reach up and cup his cheek while taking one of his hands in yours. “Are you okay? We…we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. If you want to wait, I’m okay with that. As long as we’re together—”

He shakes his head, his hand trembling in yours. “What if…what if I fuck this up? I’ve already done it enough times already. I nearly lost you back in Oklahoma, and then again in Texas. What if I turn out to be just like him and I hurt you, or—”

You brush your thumb over his lips, quieting him. “And I always came back. Or you came for me. Billy, neither of us are perfect. No one alive is. But…that’s the point, right? Of falling in love. You love someone despite their flaws. Or…help them through them. You don’t just give up when things get hard. I know what—who—I want. We’ve both said it: that we belong together.”

You press yourself against his chest and he wraps his arms around you while kissing the crown of your head. “So let’s go make it official. No one is ever going to love me like you do.”

He rests his cheek against your veil. “Okay.”

You pull back and look up at him with hopeful eyes full of love.

“Let’s go get married.”

“And do you, Billy Hargrove, take this little lady to be your lawfully wedded bride? To have and hold tender and sweet, to love and cherish, in sickness and in health, for riches—God willin’—or poorer, for better or worse, ‘till death do ya part?”

Being married by an Elvis impersonator is most-certainly going to be a story to remember.

Billy tucks a lock of hair behind your ear before tracing your jawline with his thumb, his other hand is currently holding firmly onto your right one. “I do.”

He reaches into his pocket, and when he pulls out his hand, a silver ring is held between his thumb and index finger.

Your brows furrow.

He told you back at the pawn shop that he had your ring already covered, but had refused to elaborate on how until you were standing before one another exchanging vows.

He swallows thickly.

“It was my mom’s,” he states, glancing to you before sliding it onto your finger.

Unshed tears threaten to spill forth on both your parts then.

“And do you, lil’ mama—Y/N—take this young stud, to be your hubby? To have and hold tender and sweet, to love and cherish, in sickness and in health, for riches or poorer, for better or worse, ‘till death do ya part?”

Your lip trembles as you stare up into Billy’s beautiful, warm eyes. “I do.”

You slide the gold band you’d purchased less than half-an-hour ago onto his finger once again.

“Then, by the power vested in me by the great state of Nevada and the Lord Almighty, I do so pronounce you husband and bride. Now, my good man, kiss your lady.”

Billy leans down, cups the back of your head, and then he crushes his lips to yours while dipping you—his other arm wound securely around your waist.

A woman who works at the chapel snaps a few pictures of the two of you kissing, holding one another, and beaming at each other, as well as at the cheap, disposable camera she holds in her hands.

After the two of you exit the chapel holding hands, laughing, and even crying a little, you get back into the car and Billy drives you to a bar, insisting on having some form of a reception, even if it’s just the two of you.

In reality, he deeply wants to have his first proper dance with you.

You stand in the middle of the room—the place near-empty; it’s a tad dingy and small—and wait for Billy to select a song from the jukebox over in the corner. You know he’s found whatever he’s looking for when a small smile comes across his lips.

He comes back over to you, takes one of your hands in his, and he leans his forehead down against yours just as Bob Dylan begins to hum the beginning of Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door. He rests his other hand against the small of your back, pulling you in close to his chest.

You close your eyes, reach up, and tangle the fingers of your other hand in his hair while the two of you sway back and forth to the slow song.

He presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

You open your eyes, and tears slip down your flushed cheeks as you press your lips to his own. “I love you.”

When the two of you return to the motel, Billy leaves the door to the room open, and he blares the song Don’t Stop Believin’ from the car’s stereo outside. He tugs you up onto the bed with him, and the two of you begin to jump up and down on the mattress while holding onto one another. You smile, laugh, and feel happier than either of you ever thought you could be—would ever be.

He crushes his lips to yours while holding your face in his hands, and then he pulls back. “Promise me that you’re mine for forever.”

You wrap your arms around his neck. “Forever.”

#fic: stranger things (billy hargrove x reader)#billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove x reader #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you

291 notes · View notes

jiminiecrickets · 1 year ago

Text

jeon jungkook ♡ series masterlist

wc. 2.2k

tags. smut | dom top!m!reader, handjobs, praise, shower sex

"you agreed. you pinky-promised. was what you wrote really that bad?"

he shifts on the couch, tucking his feet up to his chin and hiding his face behind it. his face is a very, very dark shade of red. "it's awful. horrible. you'll break up with me if you read it."

"then why'd you write it down in the first place?"

"i don't know!" he whines. "i was feeling brave!"

you set down the controller. on the large flat-screen tv, your characters circle the mario kart track behind the scoreboard. waluigi, jungkook's character, throws a tantrum in his race-car. "give me the paper."

"you'll hate me."

fourth place. fourth place. he can't believe himself. your name is highlighted at the top, neatly settled in first place. he'd been so comfortable, in the lead for the entirety of the match, and his big ego decided that an 'all or nothing' pity round would come out in his favour.

as quick as lighting, you snatch the crumpled ball of paper and unfold it, slapping jungkook's panicked hands away. your brows furrow deeper the longer you look at it.

"you're right. you were feeling brave."

jungkook slumps against your shoulder, his face pinched in embarrassment. "please don't think badly of me because of it, hyung..."

lowering the torn corner of paper, you ask softly, "would you like to do this with me, kookie? i'm interested."

his head shoots up. "what? are you serious?"

"no, i'm batman." he rolls his eyes with a huff and you grin, eyes crinkling as you pull him into your side. "yes, i'm being serious. thank you for telling me – i would never have expected something like this out of my cute little boyfriend."

if possible, his pout intensifies. he crosses his arms over his knees, staring determinedly ahead at the game. "'m not little."

you hush him, tilting his face towards you and pressing a long kiss to those pretty pink lips. he hums breathily, leaning into you with a hand on your chest. he whines quietly when you finally pull away for air, his chest heaving as he blinks at you with wide, dark eyes.

"seven days," he whispers, leaning in and throwing his leg over your lap, caging your thighs with his own. he rocks his hips slowly, savouring your low groan of pleasure. "seven days to fuck me whenever and wherever you want. that's your prize, baby – don't waste it."

eyeing his body hungrily, you grin like a beast unchained. you cradle his tiny waist, and playfully, you lift your hand against it, comparing sizes. "oh, darling, i'm not letting a single inch of you go unloved."

he nibbles on his lower lip as you tug his shirt out of the waistband of his ripped jeans. he's due for his gym session tomorrow – goes every two or three days, whatever he can fit into his schedule – and he'd made lunch for the two of you just a few hours ago. his skin is warm, his tummy soft, and it tenses with a gasp under your palms as they glide across his skin.

"mh... sorry, baby," he whispers, lashes fluttering as he blushes a dusty pink. "i should've done this on gym day..."

"hm? why?" you rock his ass against your lap with a soft exhale. you arch a brow at him. "do you think you're only attractive to me when you're hungry and dehydrated? idiot."

"hey," he whines, a protesting pout adorning his lips. he touches your hand on his stomach, fingers wrapping around yours. "'m not an idiot! just... i dunno... i wanna be handsome for you, hyung, y'know?"

you give him a look. "did i ask you out, or your abs?"

"well, me..."

"i asked you out after we finished three large pizzas at two in the morning. i think we ate about a kilo of cheese each."

he snorts. "yeah, yeah... i guess."

"uh-huh." you squeeze his hips and bring him down to kiss him, lips moving gently together. you part and bury your nose in his neck, lazily moving your hips against one another. he moans softly as you roll your palm against his bulge. "baby, you're always beautiful to me. on gym day or not – i would worship you for hours if you'd let me."

he giggles softly. "that's why i don't. you gotta be more productive than being buried between my thighs from dawn to dusk." he slips your belt free and tosses it – you barely felt him doing it, too busy engraving the sight of his sweet eyes and smile into the backs of your eyelids. "but, you know, a whole week to do whatever you want to me..."

you groan lowly at the suggestion, hastily pulling him out of his pants. you don't do it with half the grace that he does, but he seems to appreciate your enthusiasm, his cock already hard and twitching with anticipation. "mm, that does sound amazing. okay, ground rules: no touching yourself at any point. only i can get you off."

"fuck, o-okay, hyung. agreed."

you pump his cock slowly, capturing his lips hungrily. he drawls out a moan, his fingers drifting up your wrist. his other hand cradles the back of your head and he presses your foreheads together, his breath warm and quick against your cheek.

you flick your wrist and he whimpers softly, grip tightening around the base of your hand. his cock leaks as he bucks into your hand. you hush him, grazing your lips along his jawline. your hand quickens. "how does that feel, baby? good?"

"mm – mmhm," he whimpers. "it does, it does! feels really good..."

you spoil him too much. ever since you got together, he hasn't needed to touch himself – you're always right there, offering to do it for him. he's glad that you do – you can reach places so deep in him that he never knew existed, and you're always so gentle with him, making sure his pleasure is a priority.

he's dated a lot of people, but you're the first one who makes him feel so loved and important. it's almost embarrassing how much he loves you, how much he adores the way you pamper him.

he sniffles softly, burying his face in your shoulder. he grinds into your fist, cock dripping precome down your knuckles.

you hum softly, wrapping an arm around his waist. "you okay, darling? this too much?"

he shakes his head. "n-no... keep going. please. i love you."

it's sudden, and you stop moving for a half-second in surprise. "i love you, too, jungkookie. is everything alright?"

he nods, grabbing your hand and moving it up and down his swollen cock. it's cute and flushed red, twitching in your palm excitedly. "mhm. i just really love you – want you to know that."

who knew that love confessions mid-handjob could be so adorable? you smile into his hot skin and cradle him close as he gasps and jerks into your hand, spilling onto your shirt with a soft whimper.

for a long while, he remains completely lax in your arms, panting softly against your neck as he comes down from his high. when he opens his eyes tiredly, you smile down at him and kiss his cheek, tucking him back into his pants.

he whines quietly, reaching for your belt. "you didn't finish, baby... i can feel how hard you are."

you hum softly, tugging his hand away. "you need a shower, anyway. can i join you?"

his lower lip slips teasingly between his teeth. his eyes sparkle. "mm, of course. you're not getting away so easily, hyung-ah – i'm gonna eat you alive."

you smirk, letting him drag you to your feet and towards the bathroom. his eyes glint with mischief and he pulls you down by your collar to meet your lips with his, one of his hands tucked into the back pocket of your jeans. his thumb is hooked through a belt loop.

you groan into his mouth as he strokes your clothed bulge with a cheeky grin. "baby, don't test me. i'm the one with the week-long free pass to your ass."

he winks. "why d'you think i'm doing this? last one into the shower loses!"

he wins. with the steamy water hitting your back, you cage jungkook against the glass, your arms sturdy beside him. you keep him safe, protected, from the world. not once does he feel trapped – not once does he feel confined in your love. no matter how closely you press against him, no matter how deep you are inside of him – you are his, and he is yours.

there's a certain freedom in being engulfed by your arms. he never expected it. spreading his thighs, kissing his shoulder – you love him like no other has. you love him in all the ways that matter and all the ways that don't because you're overflowing with it, that love of yours. even when you're balls deep inside him – an exciting, dirty kind of love that he blushes about in the mornings – you're smiling into his neck, murmuring about how lovely he is and how he deserves you, deserves your cock, deserves your love and deserves all that is good and bright. it's your turn to lavish him with love confessions and he can barely keep track of them all, his coherent thoughts running down the drain with each solid thrust of your hips.

"hyung," he whimpers, gnawing on his lower lip. he squeezes his eyes shut, fingers scrabbling for purchase fruitlessly against the smooth glass. your cock glides against his prostate and he grabs your hip, pulling you into him with a warbled moan. "f-fuck..."

"what's that, baby?" you murmur against his skin, hot and slick. your thrusts make him unravel, strong and hard and consistent against that spot inside him that makes him see stars. it's mind-melting. "you wanna tell me something?"

he whimpers, eyes squeezing shut as your hips shift against his ass, angling differently. your cock just grazes his prostate and he clenches around you, a warbled cry of your name leaving his lips. he feels so tiny – his feet between yours, your cock buried so deep in him he can practically taste it. he arches his back, tight ass pressing back against your pelvis, and savours your growl and the way your hand grips the opposite side of his waist, gripping the slim shelf of his hip.

"gotta use your words, pretty thing," you husk. with every thrust, it takes longer to bottom out, and eventually your hips still entirely. he whines, high-pitched and wanton, and grinds against you – you keep him at bay with one hand pressed firm to the small of his back. "easy, pretty. can you do that f'me? can you talk to me, tell me what you want from me?"

you step forward, forcing jungkook to stand straighter, pressed closer to the glass. trapped in your arms, he has no room to move, no room to argue. he shivers, chest grazing glass, and can't help the unsteady shuffle of his feet. the hot, steamy water hits your back and glides down your neck, your chest, dripping onto his shoulders.

lifting a hand, you tuck it against his upper ribs, fingers pressed into the lean muscle of his chest. the flesh – pull and push, stroking and caressing. he lets out a whisper of a moan as your warm fingers flick over his nipple, hard and pebbled.

"want you," he whines quietly, voice cracking in the middle when your hand travels down his hot, slick stomach and glides over his throbbing cock. he grabs your hip, fingers digging into you until his knuckles turn white. "w-want you – want you close to me, closer, please, want you closer—"

he breaks off with a babble as you take his hands and pin them flat to the glass. the motion draws you ever nearer – closer, as he'd say, the sweet thing – and your cock reaches so deep inside him, pressing against his stomach. he's dizzy with it, veins buzzing and head detached from his shoulders.

eventually, he hears your chuckle, like a radio knob turned slowly louder. his heart rabbits in his chest as he cracks open his eyes, temple pressed against the cold clear glass. his breath fogs it, and water trails down his cheeks from his damp hair, stuck to his skin the way it always does when you tear him apart and put him back together. his cock is wet and sticky, the heat tingling in his lower spine with a pulsing desperation.

it's all over his tummy, he thinks distantly with a soft whimper. he'd be embarrassed if he could remember the word.

when you finally finish, jungkook's legs feel like jelly. he curls his fingers around yours, lacing them together as he pants against the foggy glass, his hair damp and the air thick with the smell of sex. you kiss him over his shoulder and he moans against your lips, soft and tired. he smiles and closes his eyes as you reach for the shampoo – he leans back against your chest as you smooth your hand down his stomach, gentle and warm. he can feel your pulse through your palms and your heart through his ribs.

"i love you," he whispers against your throat. he means it in every iteration it has ever been.

#top male reader #x male reader #male reader #dom male reader #bts x male reader #dom reader #top reader #bottom bts #bottom jungkook #jungkook x male reader #kpop x male reader #bts x reader #kpop x reader #bts smut #jungkook smut

618 notes · View notes

dronebiscuitbat · 3 months ago

Text

Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 100)

The sound of light snoring filled a 16 year old boys bedroom in the wee hours of the dusk, the wall adorned with guitars on racks and band posters displaying men with long hair.

His blankets were a charcoal black, his sheets a dark grey. On his desk lie a machine glowing with RGB, and whirring softly, and his seating options consisted of haphazardly arranged bean bags.

“Nico! ¡Levántate! ¡tienes tu turno en la puerta del búnker hoy!” Came harshly from the living room, and a drone with a mop of black hair grumbled, emerging from his nest of blankets like a member of the undead.

His purple eyeslights flickered on just to display his groggniess- another night of fitful sleep.

“Comin abuela!” He calls out in return, throwing the blankets off him and stumbling into the bathroom where he brushed his shoulder length hair and cleaned his teeth.

The only thing he was wearing was a pair of long black shorts, his hair was a mess, and when he looked at himself in the mirror he looked like a disheveled shelter dog.

“Ugh. Fuck me…”

He sighed as he gathered up clothes to wear for his shift guarding the front door, with everything going on, older students had the choice to volunteer to help with different projects instead.

And he'd take security work over a stuffy classroom any day.

He slid on a grey shirt and green cargo pants before fumbling around in his room to find his brown aviator jacket and matching goggles, then dug in his nightstand to find his service weapon- a 9mm pistol that would do nothing against a threat that wasn't a normal drone.

He strapped it to his hip and opened the the door to the living room where his grandmother was watching some kind of reality TV show, her legs covered in a knitted blanket.

“Morning.” He gave a half grin to her slightly yellowed frame, she smiled back, faded blue eyelights blinking at him.

“Buenos días mijo. Casi pensé que no te levantarías” She hummed, gently taking his hand as she couldn't quite see him even in his close proximity.

“Nada…No me iría de casa indefenso.” He replied before sighing. “Por favor, usa tus gafas abuela…”

She shook her head. “Ah, no. Not like it will help anyway.” She switched to english, probably not even realizing she'd switched at all. “You be safe mijo! Don't be a idiota!”

He chuckled softly. “Done enough of being stupid… no worries. See you when I get back.”

He shut the door behind him, stopping to stand just in front of his door to watch several people walk by- a deadpan expression seeping onto his face.

“Let's get this over with…”

He traipsed down the hall towards the bunker doors. Getting shoulder checked and ignored all the way through; he was decently tall for a worker drone but that didn't stop people from not caring enough to get out of his way.

It was kind of his luck. Hell, his whole families luck it seemed. He should've been named Murphy, because every single bad thing that could happen; did.

His father was murdered outside the bunker before he was even born, and his mother only took care of him for the first four years of his life before dumping him on her mother and bailing. He couldn't parse her out from the crowd even if she was still around.

So it was just him and his dear Abuela, and it had been for most of his life, which he was fine with, she was a lovely woman and had raised him well. Though recently her opticals had begun to fail…

Just another thing added to the list of mundane and shitty aspects of his life.

Why couldn't his problems be more fantastical? At least then he could be miserable and interesting instead of miserable and bored to fucking death.

He reached the front of the bunker on complete autopilot, settling into his post next to the open door, snow blistering around him while he leaned against the frozen concrete.

Despite how lonely it often got, he did find himself enjoying his time out here, one earbud in his audials while he watched the ship that would take them all away from here be built.

He'd actually begun as a welder, and was pretty good at it too- the only problem being that he was too impatient for it, he would get into a flow and then burn his hands because he wasn't paying attention… so now he was put on simple security.

“Hey Nico. Just get here?” His watch partner and now, one of his close friends patting his shoulder as she walked by with a piping hot cup of gasoline for the both of them.

“Hey Nellie. Yeah. Kinda slept in…” He replied, looking into the girls green eyelights and near silvery hair that hung down to the small of her back.

“Boss should be back from the expedition today with the ‘cords. All that's left after that is preparing that monstrosity to go.” She pointed to the ship, now being coated in heat shielding for its cone and underbelly.

“You think it'll actually work? Some of that shits starting to get in our pipes now… it's gonna get impossible to clean out soon.”

She shrugged. “If it don't, I say let's have one last hurrah until we all munched, if the planets gonna take everything; let's not let it take our joy too…”

“And if it does?”

She laughed. “Then I'll kiss you. How about that?”

He blushed at that, looking away sheepishly. “I think I'd take you up on that.”

The air cracked with supersonic pressure, alerting both drones to a yellow blur quickly decending, preparing to land just in front of them and they both braced themselves, snow getting flung everywhere as something big and mechanical landed with a loud thud.

After everything settled, what remined standing before them was tall, formidable, and had a long tail with a stinger. A Murder Drone…

Carrying a small, feisty, visibly pregnant little worker, and both were smiling like idiots.

“You said slow.”

“That was slow!”

“You broke the sound barrier!”

Nico felt his features soften. Good, they were both back in one piece, and it seems to have went well If their playful bickering was anything to go by.

…

There was one more reason he really enjoyed being out here, instead of in there.

“Mama! Papa!” Little Tera was calling from the arms of a drone with blonde hair and white eyelights, reaching out for her parents as N nearly ran to take her out of the workers arms.

“Oh hello my baby bat! Papi missed you yes he did!” He spun her, making a cascade of happy giggles escape her mouth.

Nico smiled at the sight, feeling his heart swell before a pang of deep regret hit him like a truck.

It wasn't supposed to be this way…

That night with Chloe was supposed to be fun, no consequence. She'd told him she was sixteen too, acted like she'd never done anything before right up until she absolutely blew his mind- but he'd chalked it up to it being his first time.

Then; nothing. Radio silence, he didn't see her in his classes, didn't see her in the halls or any other party he'd went to, like she'd been a ghost.

Until she called him five months later to meet her at the nursery.

He thought the meeting place was odd, but at the time didn't seem to care, he was just excited to see her again, being unable to wipe the night from his memory- he'd wanted something more substantial ever since then…

What he arrived to, was her holding a pillbaby put with one hand- which she dropped unceremoniously into his arms before just walking away without explaining a damn thing.

He didn't need one though. He knew the moment the babies eyes opened and he was staring into his own eyelights, when her mouth opened to let out a coo and she weakly rolled into into him.

He held her close, alone aside from Mrs.Rayn in the nursery, having to sit down because his legs threatened to give out underneath him.

At first… he just admired her, she was mostly inert now having been just transferred and having no life experience other then him in that moment. But she was perfect in every way.

Then he… thought about how he'd have to adjust, he'd have to drop out of school, move out- but… he couldn't move out, abuela couldn't see very well and without him she could hurt herself…

Okay… so he couldn't move out, that's fine. So it was drop out, keep taking care of his grandmother and the new addition, and get a job so he could make sure she'd have toys and extra bottles and all the oil she needed.

But… taking care of the both of them would be a full time job- he couldn't be out all day and expect his grandmother to help raise yet another baby.

He started to tremble when he made that revelation. How absolutely upset his grandmother was going to be at him, how utterly impossible it would be to try and juggle everything this little baby would need at the age of 16.

And he started to cry uncontrollably, hugging her tightly as his heart unraveled out onto the floor. Ugly sobs wracking through his body as he went through the last… and most viable option. To leave her here.

Yet he still stayed for another hour, basking in his daughter's presence, memorizing it to the best of his ability.

He'd given her a name- even knowing it would never be used.

Mariposa, his little butterfly.

And then, he went to the front desk, legs feeling like lead and with shaky breaths, and handed her to Mrs. Rayn.

She didn't even have time to ask a question before he was gone, not being able to bear being there a second longer without breaking down into more tears.

When he got back to his room, he collapsed in a heap of despair. Sitting on the edge of his bed just staring into space, the weight of what he'd done threatening to crush him.

After an hour of that. He called Chloe, she didn't pick up but he didn't exactly need her to. He just needed to fucking scream.

So he did.

He left a thirty minute long expletive filled rant as a message before throwing his phone in fit of absolute rage and then collapsing as tears ran down the inside of his visor again.

He had a daughter, a pillbaby with his code and the circumstances of her birth and his life had made it impossible for him to be there for her in the way he wanted to be.

He knew, realistically, this was the best choice for both of them, he wouldn't have to uproot everything and she would have a much higher quality of life, she'd have two parents who'd love her instead of just him, a 16 year old boy who barely knew how to take care of himself.

The next morning, and the day after that, and the day after that he went to visit her secretly, giving her tickles or admiring her before he went to school. His heart hurting knowing that there was going to be a day soon where she'd be gone.

And then the day came.

And she was gone.

He was brought back to the moment by a happy laugh, Tera pulling her mother's beanie off as she climbed her head, looking overjoyed to be with her parents.

She was so happy now, so energetic, so wild and carefree, he felt cemented in his choice, that it was the right one. But sometimes he was simply just jealous of her new parents; despite the fact they seemed wonderful.

They got to experience her first words, first steps, spoil her rotten. All the things he wanted to do, to be the dad he never got to have.

“Papi! Happy! Mama!” She yelped out a short string of words, beaming happily as the family went inside. Resting on her mother's shoulder- they made eye contact.

She recognized him, not as her dad but… as someone she knew. Her mouth tilted upwards and she gave him a happy wave, kicking her feet.

He gave a small, bittersweet wave in return.

Next ->

#murder drones #oil is thicker then blood #uzi doorman #asks #serial designation n #nuzi #biscuitbites #tera doorman #n and uzi #hi #yeah work is making these a little harder to pump out i'm SORRY #also enjoy some angst hehe

81 notes · View notes