#yeah I guess hearing ANYTHING will wear out your hearing huh

[teaboot]

my sister was once told that of course her hearing would continue to get worse if she kept wearing her hearing aids

Goddamn, that’s wild. Hey did you know there’s no point in eating cause you’re just gonna get hungry again later? Yeah you can go your entire life without food. A whole fuckin week in fact. Which is great cause living past 60 increases hearing loss too and if you’re deaf then there’s no fuckin point to it all anyway is there. Tell your sister I said to attack people with rocks

[moonlitwitchdaisy]

“nice piece, isn’t it?” your ex-husband finally spoke to the man sitting beside him, the one who had been staring at you like he wanted to devour you for minutes now.

his tone wasn’t angry at all; in fact, he sounded like they were close friends, joking casually. there wasn’t even a hint of murderous intent in his voice.

the man, who had been staring at you like he was in a trance, didn’t even glance at gojo as he replied, “rare to find one like that.” he chuckled as if he’d said something incredibly funny and took a sip of his drink.

it wasn’t funny. at least, not to gojo.

your ex-husband didn’t let his expression slip; instead, he laughed at the man’s words, clinking his glass against his in agreement. he wasn’t particularly fond of drinking, but tonight, he needed it more than anything else.

first, it was friday night, and you’d come to this bar with your friends—a bar full of men who wanted nothing more than to fuck you.

second, you were wearing the shortest and most beautiful light blue dress in existence. (you’d chosen it because it was the same shade as his eyes, making him think you hadn’t forgotten him.)

third, from his seat at a table a little removed from yours—where he could still see you—he’d noticed that not only was he watching you like some pervert, but the guy beside him was eyeing you too. it took everything in him not to smash his head in.

he knew he was just as much a creep as the guy, but he also knew that no other man had the right to look at you like that. no one but him. no matter what had happened between the two of you, no one else could ogle your legs or the parts of your chest that your dress left exposed.

the man finally turned to gojo, offering his hand in introduction and stating his name. your ex-husband didn’t hesitate to shake his hand, a friendly grin on his face, and said, “satoru gojo.”

“we’ve just met, i know, but why are you alone?” the man’s gaze roamed over gojo, lingering on the black cap covering his unmistakable white hair. “no offense, but you’re one hell of a handsome bastard. god’s favorite, i’m sure. seems crazy for a guy like you to be drinking alone.”

if he hadn’t been ogling you like a meal, gojo might’ve actually liked him. there wasn’t much he enjoyed more than hearing others praise how good he looked.

except for hearing it from you.

“why can’t someone like me, come to a bar to drink alone?”

the man laughed, taking another sip of his drink. “you should be surrounded by girls all the time, but instead, you're here, blocking guys like me from having a shot.”

gojo barely held back a hearty laugh. he never thought he’d laugh so much at a guy he wanted to strangle. “divorced a year ago. guess i’m not god’s favorite anymore. if i were, i wouldn’t be here. i’d be inside her right now.”

that was, without a doubt, his favorite place to be.

the man looked at gojo with a hint of sympathy. “shit, you sound like you miss her, man.”

he missed you. more than anything.

the man placed a hand on gojo’s shoulder like a supportive friend. “you know what? screw that whore, man. if she lost a guy like you, that’s on her. plenty of hot things in here tonight to take your mind off it.”

“whore?” huh… keeping himself from killing this guy was getting harder by the second. who did he think he was to call you that? what he’d do if he found out he just called the woman he’s been staring at for hours a whore?

the man had no idea he’d just dug his own grave.

“is that so?” gojo’s gaze drifted back to your table. you were laughing at something your friend had said, looking incredibly happy. but gojo could tell you were bored out of your mind and wanted to go home.

“hell yeah,” the man grinned, leaning in closer to gojo. “you got your eye on anyone?”

he did. just you.

a fire of possession ignited in gojo’s eyes. “maybe.”

the man followed gojo’s gaze. “haha, so you’re after the one i’ve been watching, huh? normally, i don’t share, but i like you, my friend. you deserve to blow off some steam with a nice pussy after a year.” the guy laughed as he leaned away, motioning to the bartender to refill his drink.

you were never his. you hadn’t been anyone’s. no one could share you because you belonged to one person and one person only. even if your marriage was over, no one else could even think about touching you.

and gojo was definitely not this guy’s friend.

“maybe i do deserve it,” gojo bit the inside of his cheek to contain his anger.

“bet she’s tight as hell and warm too. i mean, damn, those legs around your waist must feel amazing.”

oh, you were tight and warm, all right. gojo knew that firsthand. he remembered every time he’d fucked you senseless—how your legs would lock around his waist, your toes curling, your walls gripping him as you came undone. there wasn’t a single thing about you he’d forgotten.

gojo took a hard sip of his drink. “absolutely. and those perfect lips of hers? let’s just say she knows how to make a man see heaven while she’s on her knees. i’d fuck her throat until tears streamed down her face, and she’d still take all of me.”

“fuck, dude, you really want her. hope she doesn’t have a boyfriend. though, if she’s wearing a dress that short, i doubt it. no guy with a brain would let his girl wear something like that.”

no, he wouldn’t. and he hadn’t. in fact, your fights about this were one of the reasons for your divorce. but the real reason sat beside him now—your ex-husband knew exactly what kind of creeps were out there and felt the need to protect you from them.

the smile on gojo’s face finally faded. “trust me, i wasn’t allowing it.”

the man looked at him, confused. “you weren’t?”

gojo tore his gaze away from you and turned those dangerously piercing blue eyes to him. “yeah. who would want to offer the woman they love to guys like you on a silver platter?”

“what the fuck are you saying?” the man asked, his voice trembling as he noticed the lethal glint in gojo’s eyes.

“the tight, warm pussy you’re dying to fuck belongs to my ex-wife.” gojo leaned in closer to the man, the urge to strangle him growing stronger with every passing second.

“are you fucking crazy?”

he’d been crazy about you since the moment he met you.

“fuck yes. i’m absolutely insane. insane about everything about her. but if there’s one thing that drives me even crazier, it’s some bastard like you describing how her pussy might feel. because…” he leaned in, whispering into the man’s ear, “right now, i’m struggling not to kill you, but tonight, when you go to the house you think is safe, i can’t wait to show up and wrap my hands around your throat with delight.”

the man’s eyes widened in terror. he’d just realized he was sitting next to an absolute maniac.

“how do i know you’re not bullshitting me?” he stammered.

gojo immediately pulled back and, in the same friendly tone he had used when they first met, said, “oh, that’s very simple.” he pulled out his phone from his coat and opened your chat—where he sent at least 500 messages a day and still hadn’t been blocked.

gojo: blue always suits you, baby, but don’t you think that dress is a bit too short?

gojo: did you wear it because you knew i’d be watching tonight?

gojo: for someone who never answers my texts or calls, you sure know exactly what i’ve been saying ;)

gojo knew you always read the messages he sent through notifications. in a few seconds, you’d do it again. he liked knowing you were aware he was watching you because he knew you were just as crazy as he was.

“watch,” gojo said, almost like a warning to the man, his eyes shifting to the table where you sat with your friends.

as soon as the message came through, your eyes moved to your phone. a few seconds later, you scanned the room, and when your gaze landed on the bar table a little distance away—where your ex-husband sat, wearing a black cap and flashing you that devastating smile—your cheeks turned crimson.

“see that, buddy?” gojo, still staring at you, leaned closer to the man. “look how i made her blush. and trust me, those won’t be the only cheeks turning red tonight.” then he turned his full attention to the man. “now get lost. immediately.”

stunned, the man fumbled for his wallet, threw a few bills on the table for his drinks, and hurriedly left without another word. gojo watched him leave before turning his attention back to you, a confused look on your face as you stared at him.

ex-husband!gojo would do anything to eliminate the creeps who ogled you—whether from your vicinity or the world entirely.

but before he dealt with that man, he had to punish you for wearing that dress.

all rights belong to the @moonlitwitchdaisy do not copy, reproduce, or translate my work.

[aajjks]

FUCK! (VI)

synopsis. You hated your roommate but he had the biggest crush on you, fuck.

pairing: fboy!jk x fem!reader

genre: f2l, e2l, roommates au, fboy au (wow so many cliches), comedy au, mature themes, bad language, sex jokes.

disclaimer. this is purely fictional and this doesn’t represent bts’ jungkook irl. mature themes 18+ content ahead. mdni. ps. this jungkook thinks w his dick 👍

warnings jüngkøøk béïng döwn bàd (lïké réällÿ bäd), méntïøns øf tïts (béçäûsé øf çøûrsé), flüstéréd yn, bût shé’ll névér ädmït ït, jeøñ ‘nø filtér’ jüngkøøk, çhäøtïc énérgÿ évérÿwhéré, ünëxpëçtéd søft mømënts (døñ’t lét ït føøl yöü), jungkøøk béïng øbsësséd wïth yn ïñ thät drëss, brëädstïçk äbüsë, yn mïght bé çätçhïñg fëëlïñgs?? (üh øh), éxçéssïvé üsë øf thë wørd ‘bäbé’

note. OMG I HOPE YOU GUYS WILL ENJOY THIS. I AM SUPER SORRY FOR THE DELAY. PLEASE ENJOY OUR FUCKBOY.

series masterlist

You thought you’d feel normal again after giving Jungkook a chance,

Maybe even smug about the way he’d screamed like an idiot after you said yes. But, no. The man-child has been unbearable since this morning.

“Yn… what do you think about sunsets? Romantic, right?”

You glance up from your laptop, watching Jungkook hover in the doorway to the living room, hands clasped behind his back like he’s about to pitch a PowerPoint presentation about sunsets.

“Uh… yeah?” You squint. “Why?”

He grins. “Just gathering intel.”

“Intel for what?”

You are pretty sure he’s about to do something really stupid like always.

“Oh, nothing.” His smile turns suspiciously smug. “You’ll see. Just dress cute tomorrow night.”

You stare blankly at him for a second before turning back to your work. “Right. That’s not concerning at all.”

First of all, you don’t trust him for shit.

Jungkook doesn’t respond, but you can feel him still watching you. His energy practically radiates off him. You ignore him for as long as you can, but after a full two minutes, you can’t take it anymore.

“Do you mind?” you snap, not looking up.

Can he get out already?

“I can’t help it,” Jungkook whines. “You’re so hot when you’re focused. Look at you typing away like a boss. Ugh.”

You throw a pen at him, and he dodges, laughing as he runs back into the living room.

You can’t lie, his compliments make you feel a lot more hotter, and yes, you are kind of hot.

•••

Later that evening, you catch him in the kitchen, leaning over the counter with his phone in one hand and a protein bar in the other. He’s muttering to himself like a man with a mission.

“No, no, too cliché. Flowers are boring. Chocolate? Nah, she doesn’t like sweet stuff… But what if she secretly does?”

It’s official he’s fucking crazy.

You cannot believe that he’s actually talking to himself, but you kind of find it cute, he’s adorable, but you won’t say that to his face.

“Talking to yourself again?” you ask, grabbing a glass of water.

Jungkook jumps, shoving his phone into his pocket. “Uh—no. Totally not planning anything.”

Your brow lifts. “You’re literally the worst liar I’ve ever met.” A smile threatens to break.

He pouts. “It’s called mystery, yn. Look it up.”

“Sure, Jeon. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

As you head back to your room, you hear him mutter under his breath. “Mystery, huh? Yeah, I should add that to the date.”

•••

The next day, you’re already regretting giving him a chance. He’s been texting you all day with a mix of cryptic hints and straight-up nonsense.

And to be honest, he cannot type for shit.

Jk: do u like candles??? like…romantic ones

You: ?? sure i guess

Jk: got it

Jk: r u allergic to flowers??? asking for a friend

You: no. why.

Jk: just wondering. no reason. :)

Jk: YN CAN U WEAR THAT BLACK DRESS U LOOK SO GOOD IN PLS

You: ??????

Jk: or anything really. ur always hot. i love u btw.

This stupid fuck makes you smile so much.

By the time you get home, you’re exhausted. not from work, but from Jungkook’s constant existence. He’s waiting for you in the living room, dressed in a button-up shirt and black jeans, looking way too good for someone whose personality is 80% chaos and 20% football obsession.

“Why are you dressed like that?” you ask, dropping your bag on the floor.

Jungkook beams. “We’re going out! Duh. It’s date night, baby.”

“Date night?” you repeat, staring at him like he’s lost his mind. “I didn’t agree to that.”

“Yes, you did.” He crosses his arms. “Yesterday. When you said I could take you out. Ring a bell?”

It is sometimes fun to play dumb in front of him, you just like to test his patience a little bit.

“I didn’t think you’d plan it this fast.”

“What can I say? I’m efficient.” oh you know just how efficient he can be.

You sigh. “Fine. Give me twenty minutes.”

“Take your time, babe.” He grins, leaning against the doorframe as you walk past him. “Wear something sexy!”

What a shameless pervert but you will wear something nice nonetheless.

•••

Twenty-five minutes later, you’re sitting across from Jungkook at a rooftop restaurant. The view is gorgeous, the atmosphere is romantic, and Jungkook looks absolutely smug about the whole thing.

You’re honestly impressed, but seeing that smug smile on his face makes you want to strangle him, but damn, he outdid himself.

When it comes to Jeon Jungkook? You don’t really like to have high expectations of anything from him.

But he’s truly proved you wrong. Especially for a guy who doesn’t really do romance.

“So?” he says, resting his chin on his hand. “Am I killing it, or what?”

You roll your eyes. “You’ve done fine so far.”

“Fine?” He gasps, clutching his chest dramatically. “I’ll have you know this is the best date anyone has ever planned in the history of dates.”

You’re gonna gag at his exaggeration.

“Relax, Jeon. You’re doing fine,” you tease, hiding your smile behind your glass of water.

Jungkook watches you for a moment, his usual cocky expression softening. “You’re really pretty, yn.”

“Trust me, Jeon. I know that.”

A sarcastic laugh leaves you at his awe struck expression. “You’re just saying that because I agreed to go out with you.”

“No, I mean it.” He leans forward, his gaze serious now. “You’re gorgeous. And smart. And funny. And I’m honestly losing my mind trying to figure out how I got this lucky.”

Your stomach flips, and for once, you don’t have a snarky comeback.

But of course, Jungkook can’t let the moment last.

“And your tits look amazing in that dress,” he adds with a wink.

You throw a breadstick at him, and he catches it, laughing so hard the entire restaurant turns to stare.

He’s never going to change and maybe a small part of your hopes that maybe he won’t ever change

•••

Back at the house, Jungkook walks you to your door like the gentleman he absolutely is not.

“So?” he asks, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Was I good enough for a second date?”

You smirk. “Maybe. If you promise not to mention my tits again.”

“No promises,” he says with a grin.

“Yn don’t be stupid. I’m just appreciating God’s masterpiece and you cannot stop me from doing that.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help smiling as you shut the door in his face.

“Goodnight, yn!” Jungkook yells through the door. “I love you!”

You groan, but your heart skips a beat anyway.

You hope that tomorrow morning he will be normal, but.. most importantly you hope that your heart will behave normally.

[jaewritesfic]

Everlasting Trio DP x DC Nobody Knows AU Part 9

Part 8

“Nothing? At all?”

“Nothing, Red,” Barbara's voice repeats through the speakers of the Batcomputer, sounding irritated at this point.

“But- I mean, did you try-”

“She's going to come to the cave and shove a Batarang up your ass if you ask her one more time whether she missed something, Replacement,” Jason drawls off to the side. He's reclining in a chair, feet kicked up on a weapons table.

Tim groans. “I know, I know. I'm sorry.”

He's back in the Cave, and so is pretty much everyone else. Turns out he'd caused something of a panic, and it was all hands on deck for a hot second.

When the engineer had density shifted out of his grasp and heckled him from some nebulous spot midair, it had taken only a few seconds afterwards for Tim’s comms to explode with noise.

Turns out nobody had been able to hear anything from him except a constant low static from shortly before the encounter until after it ended, and his mask camera was borked the whole time too.

Understandably, there was some alarm about that. Bruce had ordered everyone back to the cave for a full explanation and conversation on what the hell happened.

“Sit down and tell us what happened, baby bird. You're gonna wear a hole in the floor at this rate,” Dick tells him, a gentle hand on his shoulder nudging him towards a seat.

Tim groans and throws himself into it like a puppet with his strings cut.

“Well he's definitely a meta,” he grumbles. “I never actually laid eyes on him. Wouldn't have even known he was there if he hadn't gotten ghost busted.”

“Ghost busted?” Jason asks, eyebrows raised. Tim huffs out a reluctant laugh, because in retrospect that part was pretty funny.

“His fucking phone went off. All of a sudden the empty air next to me was blasting the Ghostbusters theme song and an invisible man was swearing like a sailor until it cut out.”

Stephanie blows a raspberry in the start of a laughing fit, and suddenly the whole cave is echoing with mirth. It lifts Tim's spirits a little, makes him laugh too.

He means, come on. That has to be the new record for the funniest botched stealth mission, a position previously held by Damian when a stray dog outed him because it smelled the treats he keeps in his utility belt.

The shade of red the demon brat's face was when he had to explain why the mission went sideways was fucking glorious.

“So you've confirmed that we're dealing with a male meta?”

Speaking of the brat.

“Sounded male, and he at least has invisibility and density shifting,” Tim confirms.

“Density shifting?” Bruce prompts.

“Yeah. After the phone went off I couldn't see him but I was trying to figure out where he was. Then the lockbox disappeared too - he can transfer the invisibility through touch, apparently.”

“Huh. Haven't seen that before,” Duke comments.

“Me neither. But I made an educated guess at where I thought he was and grabbed his arm. Had a damn good grip, and then he just…went through me. Like I literally felt something pass through my hand all cold and tingly and suddenly I wasn't holding anything anymore.”

Jason snorts. “Bet that was a kick in the nuts, huh.”

“Come on, Little Wing,” Dick scolds half heartedly. “Be nice.”

Jason rolls his eyes.

“You said ‘at least’,” Bruce says, brow furrowed. “You suspect he has other powers too?”

Tim purses his lips. “I can't be sure, considering I couldn't see him, but…I think he probably has flight too.”

“Flight?” Dick says, furrowing his brow. He crosses his arms and shakes his head, looking both thoughtful and troubled. “No, that's not possible.”

Tim blinks. “What? Why not?”

Dick ‘Be Nice, Little Wing’ Grayson looks him dead in the eyes and says, “Because according to all known laws of aviation-”

“You-!”

The cave is filled with laughter again, Jason throwing his head back and cackling in a way that's particularly irksome. Tim reaches over and shoves at his boots while he's tipping his chair back and sends him toppling to the floor.

Jason flails and fails to save himself, rolling back to his feet and spitting curses with a hint of green to his eyes. Tim freezes at the sight of it.

It's not that he's scared. He and Jason have come a long way, and everyone knows by now what amount of green is actually dangerous. Jason's nowhere near actually losing it right now, he's just annoyed.

What makes Tim freeze is-

“He's been exposed to the Pits.”

Everyone pauses, confused. Jason blinks at him. “Uh…yeah, fucking duh?”

“No,” Tim shakes his head. “No, not you. The Engineer.”

Suddenly there's no laughter anymore. Everyone has gone tense and alarmed.

“Tim?” Bruce prompts lowly.

“I did see part of him,” Tim murmurs lowly, realizing it himself for the first time. “When I grabbed him, there were two bright lights for a second or two before they faded. God, I should have realized- it was his eyes. Like Christmas lights, bright Lazarus green."

Masterpost

[wordsarelife]

—i can fix him (no really i can)

pairing: jess mariano x fem!doose!reader

summary: jess got into another fight and you're about to clean his wounds, but he has other plans, tired of always answering your questions

warnings: kissing, making out, sexual remarks, allusions to sex

note: this was so fun to write and my first jess mariano fic, so please be gentle guys!!

“you never fail to amaze me, jess mariano“ you huffed, arms crossed as your eyes fell on the boy sitting on the curb in front of the supermarket. shadows were casted over his cheeks and he looked less than happy to see you.

"it isn't what it looks like" he muttered, trying to avert his gaze, although that was kind of hard, considering the outfit you were wearing.

your brushed your skirt to the side, before you sat down beside him. "well, it looks like you got beaten up"

"you should see the other guy" jess chuckled.

you sighed, not amused by the joke, as you softly touched his cheek.

"ow!" jess pulled his head back, trying to free it from your hands, but you were relentless, turning his chin in all possible directions to get a good look at his injuries.

"we're gonna have to clean them if you don't want them to get infected"

"i don't care about that" jess shrugged and took out a cigarette from a pocket of his jacket.

"yeah, i know tough guy". you quickly snatched the cigarette from his mouth before he was able to light it. "but i do"

"what the fuck, y/n?" jess exclaimed annoyed.

you left his words unanswered as you stood up from the cold concrete and held a hand in his direction to help him up. "come on, now. we're not dating, because i care so little about you, are we?"

jess rolled his eyes, before he followed you, of course ignoring your helping hand in the process.

you laughed at his tough act as he sent you a dark look, not finding anything about this remotely funny. he knew that this was one of your usual tactics to get him to talk. you would act understanding and worried about his injuries before he would be caught in a room alone with you, with no way to escape, having to explain every little detail about the fight.

well, tonight he decided, you were going to be caught in a room with him.

a smug smile slipped onto jess' features as he followed you up the stairs. you turned around and pushed a finger against your mouth, before you took out your keys and unlocked the door.

"grandpa is sleeping" you muttered, opening the door wide enough for jess to walk through, but not wide enough to reach the creaking sound.

jess and you had met the year before at the supermarket, where you had watched him buy a ridiculous amount of industrial glue, while he was busy watching rory and dean talk.

you had guessed that he had been doing that to bother them and while rory was a friend of yours, you had to admit that it had been a little funny.

unbeknownst to you, jess had forgotten everything about rory, once his eyes fell on you behind the counter.

"are you working on the worlds longest scrapbook or are you just very passionate about glue?"

"huh?" jess had been so stunned by what you said that he lost his usual cool demeanor and found himself at a temporary loss for words. he couldn't remember a situation in which he had not been able to reply with a witty joke.

"want me to repeat that?" you asked amused as you pulled the last bottle of glue over the scanner.

"no-uh" he shook his head "i'm jess, luke's nephew"

"oh" you smiled, a sign of recognition in your eyes "that's you!"

"and you are?" he held the ten dollar note in your direction.

you took the money, taking out his change in the process. "i'm y/n, taylor doose's—"

you were interrupted when the aforementioned man stepped next to you, a frown on his face at the sight of jess. "i'm her grandfather" he finished for you. "and you're gonna stay far away from her, you hear me, mariano?" he pressed.

"grandpa!" you scolded and jess was surprised at the sudden shame that entered taylor doose's face. it seemed like he really gave a damn about your opinion, unlike he did with anyone else in this town.

"well, i'm gonna check on miss patty and her plums" taylor excused quickly and walked away, before you could question him further.

"please don't mind him" you told jess, amusement evident on your lips "i just got back and he's been a little on edge without me here"

"where have you been?" jess asked, intrigued to hear more about the mysterious and pretty girl in front of him.

"my dad's" you replied with an uneasy smile. he recognized the expression on your face, had he always worn it himself when someone had asked him about his parents.

he decided not to stir the pot any more. "well, i'll see you around, doose" jess said, took his glue and left you standing with only a faint goodbye from your lips.

jess' hands went to squeeze your waist, as you closed the door.

you were luckily able to suppress any sound at the sudden touch and you could jess' smirk in your neck.

"very funny, mariano" you whispered, freeing yourself from his grip and turning around to let him see the annoyed expression on your face.

his eyes glistened with happiness in the dark of the hallway, before his hand went behind your back, bringing you closer to him. "why don't we go to your room?" he whispered.

you had to admit that for a short, misguided, second the sweetness of his words was not far away from undermining you.

you shook your head, snapping out of whatever had gone through your head at his tempting suggestion. "nice try" you smiled sarcastically and jess sighed, letting go of you and following behind you to the bathroom.

jess was no stranger to your rejection, especially when your grandfather was home, but he was not finished trying to (respectfully) lead you into temptation.

"there are two options how we can do this" you spoke, your voice in a normal volume as soon as jess had closed the door.

before you could explain his options, he interrupted you, the smirk now basically right in your face when you turned up the light and looked at him. "want me to lock the door?"

"no" you dragged. "you know why? because we are not doing anything forbidden"

"forbidden, huh?" jess smiled "kinda like the sound of that"

"this is not a rom-com"

"oh no" jess shook his head, wearing a faked stoic expression "of course not. just two people doing non-forbidden things in the bathroom" he shrugged.

"it sounds wrong when you say it like that"

"what does it sound like?" he stepped closer to you, ready to touch your lips with his, as his eyes fell close, but you were quicker, swerving around him, before he was able to even touch you.

"nah-ah!" you scolded.

"what?" jess turned around, now crossing his arms like you had done earlier "i'm just trying to kiss my girlfriend"

"not happening" you shrugged. "so, as i was trying to tell you before: you have two options: first, the easy one: let me fix your face and we're done in no time"

"or?" he furrowed his brows, leaning against the wall.

"or" you repeated "the hard one" jess' smile got impossibly bigger and you rolled your eyes "ew, not like you think"

"fine" he sighed. "the easy one i guess, no need to tell me about your torture method"

"it's not a torture method, but thanks for thinking so poorly of me" you muttered, before you opened the drawer under the sink, taking out the first aid kink.

you climbed on top of the counter and motioned for jess to come closer and stand in between your legs.

"well, this is kind of suggestive, don't you think?" he pinched your waist. you just shook your head, taking his hand and laying it on top of your knee instead.

"keep your hands there, mister" you directed, before you grabbed a wet cotton pad and pushed up his chin, so you could gently take the unnecessary blood off his face. "for your own good, i hope that the other started throwing punches"

"of course" jess nodded, overly dutiful, before he hissed in pain as the cotton pad touched one of the scars on his nose.

"you should've thought about that before you got into an unnecessary fight, you know?" you commented, switching out the pad, before you continued cleaning the other side of his face.

"yeah, yeah" he averted his eyes, his gaze falling onto the hem of your skirt, his fingers were laying on top of. he softly raised the fabric, pushing his hands to rest on your bare thigh.

"jess" you sighed in a warning tone.

"what? it's itchy"

"it isn't" you rolled your eyes, but didn't discuss the topic further as you threw away the pad.

you tried reaching behind you to grab one of the plasters from the first aid kit, but jess was quicker, snatching the box away from you and holding it behind his back with one hand.

"wha—"

"give me a kiss first" he prompted, smirking.

"jess" you whined, not amused at his antics.

"just one kiss, come on babe"

you reluctantly nodded. jess stepped closer, taking your chin into his hand and pulling your face closer so your lips could meet his.

his lips were warm and firm against yours, his teasing grin fading as the kiss deepened. what was meant to be a quick peck quickly turned into something more. his hand, which had been holding the first aid kit out of reach, dropped it to the floor as he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

you could feel the intensity growing between you two, the playful resistance dissolving into a surge of unexpected desire.

jess' other hand moved to the small of your back, guiding you even closer as the kiss became more urgent, more consuming.

when you finally broke apart, breathless and flushed, he looked at you with a glint in his eye. "was that so hard?" he teased, his voice a little huskier than before.

"oh, shut up" you muttered, flustered and lips swollen as a cause of the intensity of the kiss. you gently shoved his face back. "now pick up the first aid kit you dropped"

"yes, ma'am"

you shook your head, laughing to yourself as you watched him reach for the box on the ground behind him. it had clattered open, revealing it's contents to the ground beneath it.

he threw everything back in the box before he picked it up and came back to the counter to stand in front of you.

you took a few plasters, opening them up to stick them to the cuts on his face. "you look cute" you commented as soon as you were finished.

"i'm not cute" jess exclaimed with a stoic expression.

"you're always cute" you shrugged, now being the one to take his chin into your hands. "especially when you tell me who you fought—"

he didn't even let you finish the sentence, before he pushed his lips against yours once more. even tough it was a clear tactic to avoid your questioning, you didn't mind it this time (not that you did before, but you had to at least act like it) pulling him closer by the neck and deepening the kiss.

jess moaned into your mouth, and your lips broke into a smile. his hands were now inching closer up your thighs and a soft laugh broke from your lips when you had to catch your breath.

"let's go to your room" jess muttered, lips skipping over your neck.

"grandpa is home" you reminded.

"grandpa is asleep" he pointed out, brows moving up and down suggestively.

"jess" you giggled, as he grabbed your waist, setting you down on the floor and taking your hand to leave the bathroom, before even waiting for an answer.

well, you weren't open to any more protests then, as he took you up to your room. the only thought in your head was to stay quiet.

opposite to the rest of the night, the next morning was straight hellfire, as neither you or jess had taken the time to set an alarm.

so taylor doose entered your room without the slightest thought and watched in horror as a half-naked jess mariano climbed out of your bedroom window and fell rather awkwardly on the ground in front of it. probably right into your grandpa's rose bushes.

"i think i might be having a heart attack"

[amourquinn]

( short fic ) 𝐈 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔

pairing : boyfriend!quinn x fem!reader wc. 1.1k

genre : fluff warnings : small panic attack

summary : as fireworks ignite a wave of fear in you, quinn’s steady presence and comforting embrace remind you that with him, you’re safe

「 author’s note 」 this was a request from an anonymous, i hope you like it <3

the crisp evening air of vancouver carried a sense of calm, the kind that only came after a busy day when the city began to wind down, the streets lit with a soft golden glow. you and quinn had decided to visit a local event downtown, a small gathering of boutiques, street vendors, and artisan stalls. it was the kind of event that made you feel connected to the city—a reminder that beauty could be found in the little things.

the event was held along a quieter street lined with charming boutiques. you had wandered for hours, exploring the various stalls that offered everything from handmade jewelry to delicious-smelling soaps and warm drinks. you and quinn had enjoyed the evening, taking your time to browse, laugh, and chat with the vendors.

at one booth, you had spotted a beautifully knitted scarf, hanging from a wooden rack. it was a deep burgundy color, soft and inviting, with intricate patterns woven through it. your fingers had brushed against the wool, marveling at how warm it looked, and for a moment, you imagined wrapping it around your neck on a chilly winter evening.

“that’s nice, huh?” quinn said, standing beside you. his voice was soft, almost as if he were testing the waters, waiting for your response.

you nodded, smiling at the scarf. “yeah, it’s really pretty. i could use a new one for the winter.”

quinn raised an eyebrow, his gaze drifting to the price tag for a moment before he looked back at you. “you deserve something nice,” he said casually, though there was a hint of something more in his voice—something thoughtful, almost protective.

you laughed, shaking your head. “it’s a little too fancy for me,” you replied, still tracing the pattern on the scarf. “i don’t need something so expensive.”

but quinn didn’t seem to hear you. he was already digging through his wallet, his expression focused and determined. “i think it’s exactly what you need. just let me get it for you.”

before you could protest, he had already paid the vendor, who wrapped the scarf in tissue paper with a smile.

“quinn, you really didn’t have to,” you said, a warm flush creeping up your neck as he handed you the neatly wrapped package.

he shrugged, his grin never fading. “i know, but i wanted to. you deserve it.”

you opened the package slowly, revealing the soft, burgundy scarf. it felt even more luxurious in your hands, and you couldn’t help but run your fingers over the delicate knit. “it’s perfect,” you whispered, glancing up at him. his eyes were soft, watching you with a gentle look that made your heart skip a beat.

“put it on,” he encouraged, his voice warm and playful.

you smiled and draped the scarf around your neck. it felt like a hug—soft, cozy, and comforting against your skin. “it’s really warm,” you said, adjusting it so it fit just right.

quinn reached out, his hands brushing against the ends of the scarf. “it looks great on you,” he said, his eyes scanning your face with a tenderness that made you feel both seen and cared for.

you chuckled softly, your heart swelling with affection. “i guess i’ll have to wear it all the time now, huh?”

“absolutely,” he replied with a smile. “i’ll be disappointed if i don’t see it every time i see you.”

the playful tone in his voice made you laugh, but there was something else behind it—a sincerity that made your chest tighten. quinn’s gestures, whether big or small, always made you feel valued. you could see it in the way he looked at you, how he listened to you, and how he made even the simplest moments feel special.

⋆˙⟡

as the night continued, you and quinn wandered through the boutiques, talking about anything and everything. the scarf kept you warm, a small but constant reminder of his thoughtfulness. when you passed a vendor selling hot chocolate, quinn insisted on buying you both a cup, the warmth of the drink contrasting against the chilly air.

you were standing near the square, admiring the lights strung between the trees, when you heard a low rumble in the distance. the sound made your heart skip a beat, a familiar unease creeping into your chest.

“what’s that?” quinn asked, looking up toward the sky.

before you could answer, the first firework exploded overhead, bursting into a cascade of shimmering gold. the crowd around you gasped in delight, but all you could feel was the sharp pang of fear in your chest.

fireworks. you hated fireworks. the sudden, loud noises, the unexpected flashes of light—they had always unsettled you, stirring up a fear you couldn’t quite explain.

quinn noticed immediately. “hey, are you okay?” he asked, stepping closer to you.

you nodded quickly, though your breath was uneven, your hands clenched into fists. “i just… i don’t like fireworks,” you admitted. “they scare me.”

without hesitation, quinn stepped in front of you, shielding you from the sight of the fireworks. his hands gently rested on your shoulders as he spoke softly, his voice steady and reassuring. “it’s okay. i’ve got you. look at me.”

you tried to focus on him, his familiar face grounding you amidst the chaos. another firework burst overhead, the loud crack echoing through the square, and you flinched. quinn immediately pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you.

“i’m right here,” he murmured, his voice close to your ear. “you’re safe. just focus on me.”

you buried your face in his chest, his warmth and the steady rhythm of his breathing helping to calm the storm inside you. he rubbed small circles on your back, his touch soothing, his presence a constant reminder that you weren’t alone.

“it’s just noise,” he whispered. “it can’t hurt you. i won’t let anything hurt you.”

gradually, the tension in your body began to ease. the fireworks continued, but they felt distant now, their sharpness dulled by the comfort of quinn’s embrace. he stayed with you until the last firework faded, holding you like you were the most important thing in the world.

when the square quieted, you finally looked up at him. “thank you,” you said softly, your voice thick with emotion.

quinn smiled, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “you don’t have to thank me. i’ll always be here for you.”

and as he led you away from the square, his hand firmly holding yours, it was a reminder of his care, his unwavering presence, and the quiet strength he always gave you when you needed it most.

© amourquinn

[00valentina-writes00]

✞⛧ Texting loser!Ellie ✞⛧

An: I really love these tbh-

1:29 am

Ellie: Hey, uh… you busy?

You: Not really. Why?

Ellie: Oh, uh, no reason. Just… thinking about you. Like, not in a weird way. Or maybe a little weird? But not creepy weird. Just normal weird. You know what I mean?

You: Ellie, breathe. What’s on your mind?

Ellie: Okay, so, like… you know how I said I wasn’t gonna be all clingy? Yeah, I lied. I miss you. A lot. It’s pathetic. Please don’t make fun of me.

You: Aw, you’re cute. I miss you too. What are you doing right now?

Ellie: Thinking about your thighs. Uh—I MEAN. Playing guitar. Totally just playing guitar. Haha.

You: Ellie… are you serious right now?

Ellie: My brain is broken. Ignore me.

You: Nope. Too late. So, what exactly are you thinking about my thighs?

Ellie: STOP. I can’t handle this kind of pressure. I’m already sweating.

You: Sounds like a “you” problem. But I kinda like knowing you’re flustered over me.

Ellie: Oh, I’m beyond flustered. I’m like… short-circuiting. Can you just, like, show up at my place and sit on my face so I stop embarrassing myself?

You: Bold of you to assume I’d let you off the hook that easily.

Ellie: PLEASE, I’M BEGGING YOU. I’ll do anything. Wash your car? Carry your groceries? Worship the ground you walk on? Actually, I already do that

You: Yeah, I know you do. Loser.

Ellie: Rude, but accurate. Anyway, I gotta go. Gonna play guitar and pretend I didn’t just admit that I’m obsessed with you.

You: Obsessed, huh? Good to know. Maybe I’ll reward you later

Ellie: DON’T TEASE ME LIKE THAT. My heart can’t handle it.

You: Guess you’ll have to wait and find out. Bye, loser.

Ellie: I love you, okay? I LOVE YOU. There, I said it. Bye.

•|||——————————————————————|||•

2:20 pm

Ellie: Hey, so, uh… question.

You: Here we go. What’s up?

Ellie: Hypothetically… if I were to, like, write a song about you, would you think that’s cool or kinda cringe?

You: Depends. How many times does the word “thighs” show up in the lyrics?

Ellie: Why are you like this? I’m trying to be romantic, and you’re bullying me.

You: Oh, I’m the bully? Says the girl who stared at me for five minutes straight last night and then said, “Sorry, you’re just really distracting.”

Ellie: IT WAS A COMPLIMENT. Also, you were wearing those shorts. What was I supposed to do?

You: Be normal?

Ellie: Impossible. I saw your legs and forgot how to act. You’re lucky I didn’t pass out.

You: Wow, I’m flattered. So where’s this hypothetical song?

Ellie: …It’s not done yet. But I might’ve rhymed “perfect” with “I’m not worth it.” Thoughts?

You: Ellie, you’re such a loser, but I love you.

Ellie: Yeah? Say it again. Slowly this time.

You: Nice try. Not happening.

Ellie: Fine. Guess I’ll just sit here and suffer in silence, replaying it in my head.

•|||——————————————————————|||•

12:30 am

Ellie: Hey.

You: Hi. What now?

Ellie: What do you think it would take to convince you to marry me? Like, is there a specific snack you like? Or should I just propose while holding your dog hostage?

You: Ellie, we’ve been dating for three months.

Ellie: Okay, but, counterpoint: you’re perfect, and I don’t want to wait. I’d propose tomorrow if I wasn’t afraid of passing out mid-speech.

You: Big words for someone who forgets to text back for three days.

Ellie: HEY. That’s a creative process issue, not a love issue.

You: So what I’m hearing is… you’re madly in love with me and bad at time management.

Ellie: Exactly. See? You get me.

•|||——————————————————————|||•

3:30 pm

Ellie: Okay, I’m officially spiraling. Can I just tell you something without you making fun of me?

You: No promises. Go on.

Ellie: Sometimes I sit around and think about how lucky I am that you actually like me. Like, I’m a disaster, and you’re… you’re you. It doesn’t make sense, but I’m not questioning it. I just—thank you for putting up with me.

You: Ellie, you’re my favorite disaster. And if you keep being cute, I might actually have to show up at your place and kiss you right now.

Ellie: DO IT. PLEASE. I’LL PAY FOR YOUR GAS. I’LL—

You: Relax, loser. I’m already outside.

Ellie: Wait, what?! Hold on, I gotta brush my hair—

You: Too late. I’m coming in.

•|||——————————————————————|||•

10:30 am

Ellie: Hey.

You: Hi, Ellie. What’s up?

Ellie: Can I say something without you laughing at me?

You: You’ve already asked this today, and it was hilarious. Go ahead.

Ellie: Okay, so like… I’m trying really hard not to think about the way your ass looked in those jeans earlier.

You: Ellie.

Ellie: What? I’m being honest. It’s a problem. I almost walked into a pole because of you.

You: It’s not my fault you have no self-control.

Ellie: Self-control? With you? Yeah, right. You literally walked by me, and I stopped functioning.

You: Good to know I have that effect on you.

Ellie: Oh, you know. You definitely know. You’re evil for it, by the way.

•|||——————————————————————|||•

4:40 pm

Ellie: Hey. Are you busy?

You: Not really. Why?

Ellie: Because I was thinking… you should come over. Like, now.

You:Why?

Ellie: Because I miss you. And because I really need to kiss you. Maybe more than kiss you. But, uh… yeah.

You: You’re bold today.

Ellie: You’re hot every day, so I figured I’d stop pretending to be cool about it.

You: Ellie, you’re such a dork.

Ellie: Okay, but I’m YOUR dork. Come over so I can prove it.

•|||——————————————————————|||•

2:28 pm

Ellie: I just saw your Instagram story. I’m losing my mind over here.

You: Why? It’s just a selfie.

Ellie: Just a selfie?? You looked so good, I almost dropped my guitar. What are you trying to do to me?

You: Ellie, calm down.

Ellie: Calm down? You’re out here looking like THAT, and I’m supposed to act normal? No chance.

You: So dramatic.

Ellie: You think it’s funny, but I’m literally sitting here like, “Wow, that’s my girlfriend. I’m the luckiest loser alive.”

•|||——————————————————————|||•

9:34 pm

Ellie: I can’t stop thinking about you.

You: What else is new?

Ellie: No, but like… it’s bad. I’m at the store, and everything reminds me of you. I saw strawberries and thought about how you taste like them when you wear that lip gloss. It’s driving me insane.

You: Ellie, get it together.

Ellie: Can’t. Don’t wanna. I’d rather think about you.

You: You’re so thirsty.

Ellie: Yeah, for YOU. And I’m not sorry about it.

You: You’re ridiculous.

Ellie: But you love it. And you love me. Soooo… can I come over?

You: You’re lucky I love you.

Ellie: I know. Be ready when I get there.

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One TwentySeven

Chrissy has her hands over her mouth. Her eyes are wide and suspiciously wet looking, and Steve cannot read her expression at all, “you let him eat your toes?” She mumbles through her fingers.

“Yeah,” and Steve’s geared up to...something. Defend himself maybe? Defend Eddie? He doesn’t know, but she cuts him off anyway.

“I think that’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard,” she sighs.

“It...is?”

“Steve, you literally sacrificed a part of yourself to save your one true love,” Chrissy sighs again, one hand supporting her chin now as she stares at them, “Jason wouldn’t even miss a TV football game,” she frowns.

“Steaming turd,” Eddie say solemnly, and then they share a look, and both of them start laughing.

Steve looks between them, frowning, “yeah, well-”

“Oh! Is that why he won’t let me do anything with his hair?”

“I-” Steve starts, then stalls, “what?”

“Well, in school your hair was like...ninety percent of your personality-”

“What-?”

“And, genetically, this makes Eddie part you, right?”

Steve frowns, that thought had never actually occurred to him, “I...guess?”

“And he really doesn’t like being different-” Chrissy gestures vaguely.

“Not different,” Eddie scowls, “little different,” he then immediately concedes.

“I know, I don’t mean it in a bad way honey, you know that right? You’re really cool different, really good different,” Chrissy reassures Eddie immediately, “but in school, Steve’s one job was like...being king of fitting in. Fitting in and having good hair was like, all he had-”

“Hey!”

“Sorry,” she shrugs, “kind of true though. And now Eddie like, has a big thing about both of those things so do you think he like, inherited them from you?”

“No!” Steve crosses his arms, “no I do not think that at all.” Except, now that she’s said it, Steve’s kind of thinking it a little bit. “He just wants to fit in, that’s to be expected considering what he’s been through, don’t you think? Plus, when he came out of the pool all his hair was gone so it’s totally understandable-”

There’s a knocking on the front door, but Steve hears it open before he can get up and Joyce calls, “hello,” through the house. Hopper follows her into the lounge, “we thought better to bring my car than Hoppers truck in case someone is watching,” she shrugs, “don’t want to spook them if they think the laws involved,” she tells them in a conspiratorial whisper.

Hopper rolls his eyes, “she thinks she’s Jessica Fletcher. Kid, you got any beers?”

Steve says, “in the fridge,” at the same time as Eddie says, “no.”

Hopper goes and helps himself, and next to Steve, Eddie grumbles under his breath.

Steve nudges him, “Hopper’s helping us, and we can always get more beer. You only ever drink one at a time anyway.”

Eddie nods, but looks grumpy about it, making Chrissy giggle.

“So, new kid, you all caught up?” Hopper comes back in, bottle in hand.

“There’s an alternate dimension filled with monsters you can reach by opening gates, that’s where Will Byers went missing – that’s your son?” Joyce nods, “but he’s fine now?” Joyce nods again, “okay, good. And your daughter is from a secret government science experiment that was hidden in Hawkins, and she can move stuff with her mind. Eddie is from the upside down and used to be a mermaid.”

Hopper sighs, “close enough, now, what can you tell me about this guy?”

“Uhm...well, he was white. An older guy? Maybe in his sixties, so grey hair?”

“That really narrows it down for me kid.”

Joyce elbows him, “Hop.”

“Did he have an accent?” Steve asks, “like, a Russian accent?”

“Oh, oh no not at all. He was American.”

“Huh.”

“He...all the time wear a shirt, most time a tie and...sometimes…” Eddie mimes doing buttons up the front.

“A coat?”

“No, not coat. Make like Christmas sweater.”

“Oh, a cardigan.”

Eddie nods, “yes.”

Hopper sighs, “an old white guy in a cardigan. How hard could it be,” Joyce elbows him again, “woman!”

“Well...wouldn’t it be safer for Eddie to go away for a little bit?” Joyce suggests.

“No,” Eddie says, frowning and grabbing on to Steve’s elbow, “not the cabin.”

“Oh...oh no honey. I meant further than that, and with Steve. Like a...like a little holiday.”

“Yeah, I don’t want Steve coming back and forth to the cabin, this guy could easily be looking El too,” Hopper adds.

“So where do you-” the front door crashes open, interrupting Steve.

Robin stumbles into the lounge, pink, sweaty, and gasping for breath, “I got here. As fast. As I. Could.”

“Jesus Birdie, did you just ride your bike the whole way here?”

“Yeah,” she caves in, bending to rest her hands on her knees, chest heaving.

Eddie nods, eyeing the state of Robin, “bikes are dangerous,” he points out sagely.

Steve shakes his head, watching as Robin regains her composure enough to share a quick smile with Chrissy. They do an awkward little finger wave at each other across the four feet of lounge they’re separated by. Steve’s going to have to grill her at some point.

“How did you even know?” Steve asks her.

“Oh, well El was there when you called Hopper, and she walkied Max-”

“Right. Right. Never mind I get it,” Steve stops her before she relays the entire chain of events.

Robin slides onto the couch, a very proper foot of space between her and Chrissy. Steve raises an eyebrow. Well? Robin glares at him. Fuck off.

“How about Ray’s place?” Joyce asks.

“Yeah, yeah,” Hopper agrees, like he was already considering it, “I’ll go call him.”

Hopper shuffles into the hall, “fishing Buddy,” Joyce elaborates, “Hopper uses his cabin all the time, it’s right on a lake.”

“It is not ‘all the time’,” Hopper grumbles from out in the hall.

“Feels like it,” Joyce whispers.

“You going into hiding?” Robin asks, excited.

“Yeah...I mean...maybe?” Steve hedges.

“On holiday,” Eddie adds, before frowning, “Chrissy? Can I have holiday? From work?”

Chrissy snorts a laugh, but then very seriously adds, “I think under the circumstances I can excuse the short notice.”

“I could help!” Robin starts eagerly, before she dials down her excitement, “I mean. I could help out, with the flowers, as long as I’m not at Family Video. Oh! Maybe the guy will come in and-!”

“And you could nothing,” Steve tells her, “Robs, seriously, leave it to Hopper, please?”

“Fine,” Robin grumbles.

“I’ll be really glad of your help though,” Chrissy smiles at her, which seems to perk Robin right back up again.

“Oh shit.” Steve sighs, “Keith.”

“Well, you know that elderly aunt you’re really close to? She was super sick over Christmas and you had to help her out?”

“Sure..?” Steve answers vaguely.

“I think she finally just died,” Robin grins.

“Great.”

Eddie has his nose practically pressed to the window glass, “cows!”

“Yeah,” Steve smiles, “yep. Real life cows.”

“Different colors?”

“Yeah, you get chocolate milk from the brown ones.”

Eddie’s head snaps round so fast Steve’s surprised he didn’t hear his neck crack, “really?? The cows in my book are black and white.”

“Yeap, black and white ones make regular milk,” and Steve almost, almost pulls it off, but Eddie starts to frown as he thinks about it, and Steve can’t hide his smile any more.

“Lie,” Eddie says, grinning happily before he goes back to looking out of the window, “funny lie Stevie.”

The town is pretty much exactly as Hopper described; a little touristy, a little kitschy. Bigger than Hawkins. There’s a good will and a record store, and Hopper said that there’s a library in town somewhere. They drive past a busy looking diner and a fair sized grocery store. The gas station is exactly where Hopper said it would be.

It’s busy enough, but clearly filled with a lot of visitors; there’s three outdoor supply stores pretty much on the same block, which figures considering what Hopper said about people passing through, visiting the lakes or going hiking. There’s one store that seems to cater exclusively to merchandise for tourists if the rack of hats and shirts outside is anything to go by.

Once out the far side of town, Steve figures then they’ve driven the mile and a half Hopper directed before finding the turning, and then another mile later finding the over grown, rutted drive that leads up to the cabin. It’s real quiet, the road clearly not used often, and there’s plenty of ‘Private Road – No Entry’ signs at the turning of the lane.

The cabin is nestled amongst the trees, a long, squat thing with a shingled roof and peeling white window frames. There’s a screen door set in the middle and not much else to look at on this side. Steve can already see the little lean too built on the end though, just poking out; it has it’s own vents and chimney and houses the generator. There’s another, open sided shelter next to that, stacked with firewood. Steve figures they won’t need to light the fire much, unless it gets chilly in the evenings. It might, he figures, this close to the water.

Eddie hops out immediately, heading to the cabin and opening the squeaky screen door before letting himself in with the key Hopper gave them.

‘Keep the cans for the generator topped up, if you use anything from the pantry replace it, and for the love of god take your own bedding and towels. Trust me. There’s a coffee can on top of the fridge, I usually shove a few dollars in there as a thank you, oh, and you'll have to go into town if you need to do laundry.’ They were pretty much the only other instructions Hopper had given, but so far everything seems to be exactly as Hopper said it would be.

Steve’s gathering things from the car when Eddie comes back out again to help, “hows the inside?”

Eddie wrinkles his nose, “dusty.”

“Well...we can soon fix that.”

They get unpacked. Eddie dusts and packs things away while Steve tops off the generator and gets it started. He puts the now empty gas can in the trunk, ready for when they go into town. He goes inside the check the fridge is running, then raids the pantry. Some of the cans in there don’t even have labels on, a few even rusting a little, and Steve doesn’t really feel like pot luck or food poisoning for dinner, “want to get groceries?”

“Yeah. I can’t find the vacuum.”

“Oh…” Steve comes and looks, checking in all the likely places, before he finds a little rotary carpet sweeper, showing Eddie how to use it.

Eddie does the whole cabin in less than ten minutes, carefully knocking the dust outside after, “trash bags?” he asks on his way past, and Steve adds them to the grocery list.

The cabin is comfortable inside, if a little lived in. All the furniture looks, at the very least, older than Steve.

Some of it might give Hopper a run for his money.

But, yeah, it’s a tidy little space, and the couch in front of the fire is nice. “Listen later?” Eddie asks when he dusts off the record collection.

“Sure, ready to go now? The fridge should be cold enough by the time we get back.”

Eddie nods, retrieving his jar of cash and shoving some in his wallet, “ready.”

They squeeze into the phone box together; there’s no phone line at the cabin, and Hopper did warn them about that.

Eddie huddles close, Steve holding the receiver so they can both hear it ring, loose change in his pocket at the ready. Steve speaks to Robin’s mother very briefly, and then Robin and Chrissy are both on the line. Steve can imagine it in his head, cord stretched at it’s max to reach inside the door of Robins room, both of them standing close so they can hear, the same as Steve as Eddie are now.

“What’s it like?” Chrissy asks.

“Nice,” Eddie tells her, “I cleaned the dust.”

“Good job, and is the lake pretty?”

“Yeah. Lots of trees.”

“Steve,” Robin cuts across, “is it like, actually alright?”

“Yeah,” Steve reassures her, “it’s pretty good actually, the couch is comfy and the dock looks nice. Generator started up fine. We’ll be okay. Just gonna’ go get some groceries and settle in for the night. Eddie found a record player and there’s a bunch of movies.”

“Library?” Eddie asks.

“Sure, we can find that tomorrow maybe.”

The last thing they did as they were leaving Hawkins was to return Eddie’s books, he was worried they would overrun if they were gone too long.

They wrap up their short check in, the girls promising to let everyone else they arrived fine. Steve also makes Robin promise not to do anything stupid, which, she does promise, but Steve is absolutely certain she has her fingers crossed as she says it.

They carry a bag each into the cabin, Eddie immediately opening the fridge and declaring it cold inside. The groceries get unpacked, and Steve finishes unpacking and making up the bed while Eddie unpacks his pencils and notebooks.

With that done, Steve makes them both coffee, “come on, lets go and look at the lake.”

Hopper warned them there was no outdoor furniture and he always brings his own folding chair, but Steve and Eddie are content to sit on the planks of the short dock and watch the water, “the sun set is so pretty.” And it is, dusky oranges and pinks reflected on the water, the sky going dark at the edges.

It’s kind of romantic, sitting here. There’s just the very quiet lap of the water to listen to, the occasional soft sound of the breeze through the trees. It’s...quiet. Soothing. Steve lets go of the breath he’s been half holding since Chrissy and Eddie piled through the front door yesterday afternoon. There’s no mystery old dude here. Whoever is looking for Eddie, he won’t have a clue where they’ve gone.

Eddie’s safe again, right now. Steve’s fairly confident Hopper will find the guy, Hawkins isn’t that big, and if he’s brazen enough to outright be asking questions about Starcourt, surely he will be easy enough to turn up.

Steve hopes so, anyway.

They’ve finished their coffees, the sun slowly setting. The temperature has dropped a little, while they’ve been sitting watching the colors on the water, and Eddie snuggles into Steve’s side, resting his head on Steve’s shoulder, absently dragging his nails lightly on the material of Steve’s jeans.

He’s always fiddling with something, Steve thinks vaguely. He wonders absently if it’s just because everything is still so new, Eddie always chasing sensations. Steve can't blame him for wanting to try things, for wanting to try everything.

“Dark here, at night?” Eddie asks, shaking Steve from his thoughts.

“Yeah. Really dark I think. No lights from other houses or street lights or anything.”

Eddie hums, “see the stars?”

“Oh...oh yeah, they’re going to be super bright here. You...I don’t suppose you ever saw them, in the Upside Down?”

“No...first time here,” Eddie lifts a hand, flashing his fingers open and closed at the sky, “many pretty.”

It’s not fair of Steve to deny Eddie anything, especially not because of his own hang ups. And he promised himself he would be better about all this.

And it is romantic, sitting here on the deck, the sun just a hint of light on the horizon now, mostly hidden by the forest.

Eddie hugs his mug to his chest, perking up when the breeze rustles the trees, louder now, “the trees are different.”

Steve looks around, “yeah, I guess. They’re...older than at home. Wild. Kind of.” They are closer together, and a lot bigger than the ones at home. It highlights that the trees at the bottom of the yard were probably carefully curated and deliberately planted at some point. Comparatively the trees here are...huge. Much more established.

A bird screeches, and Eddie startles, leaning more firmly into Steve’s side. Steve puts an arm around him. “Called?”

“Oh...it was just a bird. Probably different to the kind we get at home, that’s all. You want to go in and listen to a record?” Eddie nods, “and maybe...we could try me giving you a blowjob?”

Part TwentyNine

[fairytsuk1]

looking glass | (s)

apart of the meet cute: gone wrong series, click here for more!

pairing: shoto todoroki x reader

words: 5.7k

prompt: "moving into a new apartment and realizing they can see directly into their neighbor’s window"

warnings: strangers to lovers, masturbation, mild pervert!todoroki, voyeurism, exhibitionism, fingering, kitchen sex, unprotected sex, alcohol

Shoto had decided to move. He had to get away from it all, and his only option post-college was to find an apartment where he could heal from all his trauma in peace. The moving-in process had been grand, Midoriya had come by, and he was always such a great friend. Even some ex-classmates had come by, with welcoming gifts or a helping hand. Even Bakugou had paid a visit with Kirishima, and the distance was starting to seem not so bad now that he was settled into his one-bedroom apartment.

Things were looking up! Job security, a new place, and lots of people to meet. It even felt a bit exciting. A new chapter.

“So you’re single?”

The apartment complex had its pitfalls, namely the single women that had spotted an attractive bachelor on their radar and were quick to bomb-rush him with questions. Was he single? Was he set to be married? Married in the past? Looking for that special someone?

An older woman, Miyako, had come with onigiri and many questions. Some bordered on creepy, but Todoroki had difficult time saying “go away” to people who didn’t deserve it. He’d come a long way from his teenage years; he had to be better now.

“I’m just going about life right now, er; I’ll let you know?”

Miyako looked thrilled to have caught Shoto’s attention, but it was beginning to feel embarrassing when he only wanted to take out the trash.

“Oh, that’s great! Believe me, my husband is always gone, so if I never need… help, I know how to find you!”

It seemed a bit distasteful that she’d tried lowering her eyes and rubbing her lips together as if he’d get with a married woman. Gosh, imagine the drama. Todoroki took a look around, and most people were leaving for work. He probably shouldn’t be seen with this lady like this.

“Yeah, I’m not exactly handy, though. Uhm, I hope it all works out,” and Todoroki's taking the tray from her hands, “and thank you for the onigiri.”

She follows his steps as he moves backward, “Oh, but are you sure you don’t need anything else?”

An angelic voice floats out from behind him. It’s the smoothest voice he’s ever heard.

“I’m sure he’s fine, Miyako!”

He was thankful someone had come to put this cougar to rest, but as he turned towards the sound of the voice… he thought he could hear bells in the distance. Have you always been living here? Are you a guardian angel striking a pose on Earth? Why hadn’t he gotten to see you earlier?

“Oh, I’m just checking up on him!” 

She dares to pinch his cheek, and he can feel it grow warm under her manicured nails, “isn’t he so cute?”

“Soooo cute,” and you offer a small wave, “Hi there.”

He doesn’t take your lack of a compliment to heart, waving back and noting your name. It was pretty, and it fits you perfectly. So did the suit you were wearing, the blazer buttoned to accentuate curves, and you still managed to adorn yourself with gold jewelry without losing your air of professionalism.

“Well, I have to go,” Miyako rests a hand on his, whispering, “Enjoy the onigiri.”

“Thanks.”

She gives a pleasant goodbye to you, and you’re approaching closer as she walks away.

“Got caught by Miyako, huh?”

“Well, I guess. I was taking out my trash, and then she asked all these questions with the tray of onigiri; I couldn’t tell her to go away.”

“You should! She goes after nearly every bachelor that moves here but don’t try it. I’ve seen too many guys get beaten to a pulp by her husband; it’s a dangerous game.”

“Oh, oh no. I wasn’t going to–”

“I didn’t think you would,” and you have the confidence to give him a wink, “you just moved here a couple weeks ago, huh?”

“Yeah, I’m apartment 438. Where are you?”

“Oh, just across from the other side, but there’s never any parking over there! I really am only over here for work,” you gesture to yourself with a small shrug, “law firm.”

Ah, so that’s the reason for the briefcase. He gives a small smile in return. Has he been nervous this entire time?

“Well, government job. So, we’re in the same boat.”

“Hah! I guess so. If you’re ever in trouble, then call me! Unless it’s something pretty bad, I just do real estate stuff.”

“Real estate?”

“You don’t have to pretend to be interested in it! But it’s not bad, not like you think.”

“No, I wasn’t lying. I could never go through law school; that’s very admirable.”

He’s pleased that your cheeks lift unconsciously, murmuring a “thank you.”

The two of you linger in the presence of each other for a minute or two longer, but it feels like ages as the breeze brushes past the two of you under the sun's warmth. You’re the first to break, sighing and offering your hand, “I’ve gotta go, but it was so nice to meet you!”

Your hand is soft, not scarred like his that came from years of working out and being rougher in his younger years. Electricity raves through his veins when you give him a firm shake.

“Yes, you too. Have a good day at work,” he feels his cheeks burn unconsciously at the statement, fingers curling around the onigiri like a lifeline.

“I’ll need it!”

He tries not to watch you get into your gray Toyota, so he busies himself with inspecting the gift he was given till he hears your engine rev. The last look he gives you wasn’t meant to feel like he was yearning to talk to you more, but he’s afraid it does when he catches your eye, and you only smile.

The apartment is cozy, but as he eats his onigiri, he wonders if you’d want to share some with him sometime.

“I’m getting too wrapped up in this,” he mumbles at the small island in his kitchen, “I’ve got to get to work.”

It’s a slow work day.

-

“A lady? Who’d you meet? That’s great, Todoroki!”

Midoriya blabbers eagerly to him over the phone, having to catch up on each other’s lives, “Yeah, she saved me from some old lady. She was hitting on me.”

“An old woman!? Wow, was she the one who gave you onigiri?”

“Yup.”

“Wow! Gosh, I can’t believe it! I mean, didn’t you say she was married?! That’s just crazy, Todoroki. I don’t know what I’d do!”

“She was not going to leave me alone,” he stirs a pot of marinara sauce lazily, “but everyone here is very nice.”

He doesn’t say your name, but he means you.

“Mhm, that’s good. Uraraka and I have been good. We’re looking at buying a house!”

“Right, how’s that going?”

He’s able to lose himself in the conversation and dinner-making. It’s peaceful; it feels like home. His lights are low, which adds to the lighting, and he can’t help but feel lonely. Usually, at home, he’d smell the soft perfume of his mother or the sizzle of food from Fuyumi. 

Todoroki tried to put the lost memories out of his mind. Midoriya was here, and he supposed that was never a sad thing.

“Sounds like you guys have a plan,” the sauce is nearly done, and he finally takes a second to rest against the counter, “I think it’s going to go great. I can always help you with moving when the time comes.”

“Thank you so much! I think we’re pretty steady on what we wanna do….”

It only takes a flickering gaze around the room to cause Todoroki to be shaken to his core. He ended up with a nice balcony in his apartment and opted for curtains during move-in. 

This time though, this evening, he’d left them wide open. Wide open and exposed directly to your apartment. You were not only inside but walking around half-naked.

“Todoroki?”

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry, what were you saying?”

“Oh! I was just saying would you prefer gray walls or white ones? We still can’t decide.”

Picking up your living room is a menial task to you, but not to the man drooling over how you bend over and how your panties outline the plush fat of your ass. White panties with lace.

“...White is good, maybe a bit off-white.”

“That’s what I was thinking!”

The sauce starts to boil over, “shit!”

“Is everything okay?”

He’s got his phone trapped between his shoulder and ear, rushing to turn down the heat and making quick glances at the sliding doors, “Yeah! Yeah, everything’s fine. My dinner’s ready; I have to go.”

“Okay! Hope it’s super good; talk to you later! Bye.”

“Yup, thanks. Bye.”

The phone is slid away on the counter, the sauce is lowered to a medium-low, and his eyes are finally free to enjoy the show that’s been stirring guilt and arousal in his gut. You look good. More than good, so good that he can’t be bothered to turn away in shame. He’s locked in, and you have no idea what you’re doing as your prance around your living room. 

You’re just cleaning up. No big deal, but it feels like something is watching your every movement. It only clicks once you reach the sliding glass door to see Todoroki’s “empty” apartment gazing back at you. It makes sense now; you must’ve been putting on a grand show for him while doing your chores.

Something in your brain whispers an idea to you. One that makes you want to go “Eureka!”

It’s a bad idea, an awful idea, to not shut the curtains. However… How often do you get to tease an attractive man? How often do you get to enthrall someone in your figure, your body? It’s an awful idea to turn around and take a nice long stretch down to your toes, but you don’t care.

Maybe he’s imagining filling you up or getting off to the fact that you think he’s not watching. The thought strangely excites you. Sure, it’s immoral, but the fact that eyes are tracking your every curve and committing them to memory is so alluring. You’re definitely going to use your vibrator later. 

Todoroki’s hard in his sweatpants; the indentation is practically obscene. A flush spreads through his body, making him unbearably hot. There’s a weird other being inside him that wants to march over to your door and fuck you till you love him. But… he’s being a creep. You’d be scared, uncomfortable! He would never in a million years try to do something to you, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t drink in a long look at your plump ass practically in his face. 

But then you do something unexpected; you turn around. Todoroki's reflexes are fast, and the minute your leg bends, he’s acutely aware that if he doesn’t move, he’s going to get caught! Two-toned hair dives towards the floor, the thump definitely irritating his downstairs neighbors as he crawls till he’s behind his sofa and safely able to peer his eyes around the arm.

You look askance like you’re waiting to see something. Todoroki watches you wait a minute more before stepping forward and swiftly tugging the curtains shut. The show’s over, but his cock is still hard in his boxers, and Todoroki thinks it might be time for a shower. 

He fists his cock needily under the warm water, breathing your name in soft exhales as he works himself to the end. The cum splatters lewdly against the tiles, and he’s shocked to find his knees weak. What were you doing to him?

Neither of you sees each other again for a while. Your work takes up so much of your time, and your heart withers watching the daylight pass by in your office. Todoroki has been busy, too, he’s closer to the heart of the city, and the daily commute has worn him thin. It’s exhausting, and the two of you are not even the slightest bit excited to read the flier posted up on your doors.

[SHIKETSU COMPLEX MONTHLY BARBECUE AND PICNIC!]

Todoroki’s eyes are assaulted by the bright colors that jump out at him. There are many reasons not to go. He is so tired, Miyako might be there, he doesn’t know anyone like that, he has no kids, he doesn’t know how to barbecue…

His mind keeps circling back to you like a train stuck in a loop on the track. It’s unbelievable that he’s rationalizing attending this event just because he thinks you might be there. You probably won’t go; why would you? You’re way too busy. He tries to convince himself to walk back to the apartment as he makes his way to the barbecue. You won’t be there; he’s an idiot.

Yet there you are, under the hot sun shining in a warm yellow sundress that contrasts your brown skin beautifully. You’ve adorned yourself with gold jewelry again. His heart flutters in his chest. Todoroki can’t believe he’s there and that you were there too.

“Hello, handsome,” you smile warmly as he approaches a picnic table with pre-made potato salad, “did you make this?”

“Huh? Hello, and I-uh, well,” he’s unsure whether to lie or tell the truth, “I don’t know!”

He’s lucky he’s handsome because you laugh lightly and point to the artichoke dip, “Honestly, I don’t know if I made that either,” and then you’re humming with a warm hand on his shoulder, “unless you’re a secret housewife, no one cares that the bachelor doesn’t know how to cook.”

“Is that really my nickname?”

“To some, yeah. Especially Miyako; I swear she’s been trying to scout you out from when you arrived. She’s here with her husband and kids too! She has no shame.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty weird. How have you been, by the way?”

There’s a clear elephant in the room to him; he can’t get your body out of his head. His senses go haywire every time you move, flashing a show of skin. Hopefully, you have no idea.

“Oh, good! Good, just working. I haven’t seen you around often these days; early commute?”

“Mhm, it takes up a lot of time. I don’t mind being in the city, but it’s hard to come back home and do it all over again,” he smiles warmly, “I feel jealous of you.”

“Oh, trust me, once you’re spending long hours in an office and leaving when the sun’s down, you won’t be saying that anymore!”

It’s just a friendly neighbor chat, but it comes so easily for the two of you. It’s not like you guys are chatting for the second time ever, but as if you’ve been friends for years, getting caught up in reminiscing. You launch the dice, scoring snake eyes.

“Hey, I know you mentioned you weren’t too handy the last time we talked, but how are you with electronics? Televisions?”

“I-I used to live in a dorm, so I know a little. Is something wrong?”

“My tv has been having connective issues! I don’t know what the problem is, but I was hoping you might be able to come and look at it whenever you’re free.”

He’s being baited like a shark; he knows this too well. It’s an extremely attractive olive branch. At this point, it’s not even a branch but a whole Garden of Eden planted by you for him. He can’t wait to bite the apple.

Todoroki nods genially, “Of course, I can take a quick look at it. No promises if I don’t know what to do; I’m not an expert.”

You’re sipping your cocktail with a coy look, “I’m sure you’re an expert in other things. If you watch something enough, you’ll eventually pick it up.”

The comment makes Todoroki go stock still, eyes blown out and face deadly pale as you shrug up at him. He opens his mouth to say something, anything, but you’re waltzing away to engage with some of the mothers. That had to be a dig; you had to know what he did that evening. Maybe inviting him over was a plot to kill him for being a spying creep. 

Then there’s the chance that you… liked it. It feels impossible to even consider that option, but it was clear that you weren’t exactly mad. You would’ve confronted him straight away; he’s sure of that. So, what was he to do? Pretend to be innocent? Tell you that he thought you were extremely beautiful and sexy, so much so that he watched you through your window while you weren’t wearing clothes?

A man offers him a beer; Togami, he says. Todoroki is left to sip the acrid drink and ponder whether he should skip town. 

You keep looking at him, and you know the other moms are starting to notice your wandering eye fixated on the lone wolf. Aka, a mother of two, grins eagerly, “See something you like? Ah, young love!”

“It’s not young love. We’ve barely talked, Aka.”

Mayumi chimes in, “Really? It looks like he wants to talk to you; every time you look away, he looks back at you!”

“Are you being serious? You guys are crazy; nothing is going on!”

They’re swirling around you like viper snakes. Their lives are so consumed by their children that they see themselves in you, and they’re poking and prodding like you’re their next do-over, “Why don’t you talk to him?”

“I actually did, Mayumi,” you shrug, “it was good! Nothing crazy, not like how I know you guys are thinking. What dirty minds!”

Obviously, the mothers were gossipy, but you wonder if maybe he needed an extra push. Due to your line of work, you were familiar with pushing someone right till they crack like an egg. You’d left him looking like a sorrowful puppy, and the alcoholic drinks were brewing fiercely in your tummy. Liquid courage runs through you, and you set your margarita down to smooth out your dress.

Maybe they were right; maybe you should do something. Prod him a bit.

“I’m going to be right back,” you mumble to the gaggle of women that debate the current happenings of Ema, a new mom that entered the block and seemed desperate to wreak havoc. You’d met her, and she was actually quite nice. 

But that’s not the point. No, you’re straightening your posture and sauntering over with a sway of your hips. You were going to do this.

Your eyes are locked onto Todoroki’s figure as you confidently walk towards him, “Todoroki! Are you getting ready to head out?”

He gives you a small nod, looking around before nudging you, “It looks about time. Are you?”

“Yeah! Yeah, I am. I’m looking forward to just straight-up relaxing.”

“Right,” and he seems to be brimming with liquid confidence as well because he offers, “Do you want me to walk you back?”

It feels weird to be asked that; it’s not a direct question but an offering. Despite that, though, there’s a feeling bubbling underneath the surface. Both of you know that you could give in right here and now, forgo the traditional courting and go straight to fucking like wild animals. 

“Gladly, thank you,” he follows with you leading the way, “I think you fit in well.”

“Huh?”

“I said, I think you fit in well. In the neighborhood, you really round it all out. Plus, everyone likes you.”

“Not everyone,” his face tinges pink, so cute.

“Yeah, yeah,” stopping at the steps to my door, you shrug at him, “Do you want to come inside for a second?”

It’s another checkpoint. Another moment that makes one pause and think, “Is this it?” Another moment Todoroki barrels through, eagerly accepting the invitation and kicking his shoes off at the front of your home.

He seems to really take in your apartment as you scurry to make a polite pot of tea. Heterochromatic eyes sweep over the large glass doors; he doesn’t hide his open gawking. You tug your bottom lip between your teeth while pouring boiling water over tea leaves, “I take it to mean you like my apartment?”

“Like? I-I mean, it’s….”

Todoroki trails off, honing in on the pictures on the mantle.

“It’s very homely,” he turns back to look at you, smiling softly, “It looks great.”

“Ah, thank you. Tea?”

The man gladly takes it, and you can feel the lingering warmth of his comments as you chit-chat. You wonder what he’s thinking; his curiosity is on full display. You could come up with a few ideas. Before you know it, Todoroki is checking his watch and giving you a straight face.

“It’s getting late,” his cheeks twitch to a frown before remaining neutral, “but it was really nice to spend time together.”

Does everything he says have romantic undertones? You nod, covering your flushing cheeks with a hand before an idea strikes you. It slips out on accident; you didn’t mean for it to come out, really!

“I agree,” and the bomb drops, “I’d expect a great view from your window tonight.”

Your eyes flicker to his darkly. He’s swallowing, staring at you like a piece of meat as you lay the trap out for him. Neither of you says anything; what should you say? One of you could be bold, could prompt a kiss or more, but you don’t. Todoroki gives a light laugh, gathering his things with a lingering hand ghosting the small of your back as you escort him out.

“Goodnight,” he murmurs lowly, and you think you could kiss him.

“Goodnight!” the door locks with a click.

Todoroki sits patiently like it's a movie theater where he's waiting for his favorite film. It’s dazzling how the curtains peel back to show your partially clothed body facing away from the glass. You only have the kitchen light on, illuminating your soft curves and tan skin better than any ring light could. Todoroki sits in the darkness, not wanting to be seen but to watch. To be an active audience member as his hand trails down to grip and stroke his cock.

Swaying your hips, Todoroki finally gets a glimpse of your sweet face. It’s different from earlier. It was much more innocent before, truly the girl next door type. But this, this? You were something absolutely out of this world; he noted it in the way your eyelids lowered as you salaciously gripped your vibrator or even the way your lingerie left nothing to the imagination.

“Fuck…” he spoke to the quiet air.

He couldn’t hear you, but it was enough to see you. Starting slowly by groping your chest, nipples peeking through the lace of your bra as his eyes continuously dip down to your pussy. Covered, but if he squinted, Todoroki thought he could see your wetness starting to soak through.

You moan, hips twitching as you tug your nipple a bit harsher than the last time. Soft lips part to breathe as a hand snakes down the valley between your breasts and down the slope of your stomach. Manicured nails stop at the waistband of your panties; your eyes seem to search across the darkness for the sight of your lover boy. For a second, you think you see a turquoise eye in the darkness as your fingers make quick work on your clit.

You both know you’re staring right at each other, and neither can look away as your hands cover themselves in slickness and arousal. It’s heady and so risky with such open windows, and yet your orgasms are driving you toward the edge faster than you’ve ever felt before.

“God, I wish I could feel you,” Todoroki groans, thumb rubbing the slit and feeling his abs tighten, “I need you.”

“Oh god, I’m gonna cum Todoroki,” you pant into the open air, squirming and fucking yourself on your fingers and toy.

It comes all at once, spurting onto the web of his thumb and fingers as Todoroki cums to your wriggling form. It overwhelms you, too, body arching and seemingly bursting with pleasure when you reach your peak. You both came quicker than expected, your legs falling closed as you steadied your breathing. Even under the low light, the clear droplets of your arousal staining the carpet makes Todoroki’s balls ache.

You’ve won again. You’ve once again captured the heart and dick of Shoto Todoroki, and he can feel the feelings ruminating inside him as you playfully clean up your living room. His eyes track your figure like he’ll forget you the minute he blinks. This can’t go on any longer; both of you know this. But then you’re drawing the curtains, and the show ends.

By the evening, Todoroki sets a plan to get exactly what he wants. And you’re none the wiser.

It’s been a while since the two of you had crossed paths. Your work has stolen your energy, leaving you to come home exhausted and weary every day. Normally you’d perk up at seeing the boy you’d come to feel warmth for if you even caught him, but his life seemed to be getting in the way. He always kept his curtains closed these days.

Then, you notice it on your day off, cozy in a sweatsuit with a mug of steaming coffee. The curtains are open, which leaves his apartment looking like a ghost town. It’s been a moment since you’ve seen the light filter in like that since you’ve felt that familiar feeling brewing at the bottom of your stomach.

Your body sits on the plush couch, sipping your drink and waiting patiently. You’re giddy as Todoroki walks into view. The show is about to start, and unlike you, he’s making sure to give an eyeful. He’s never looked more confident; in fact, he’s never put himself on display like this.

Was he really doing this all for you?

The thought is forgotten as a black t-shirt is peeled off to show rippling muscles and brown nipples that pebbled as he rubbed over his chest. He was carved to perfection, maybe by God himself. Todoroki starts slow, blunt nails scratching lightly over his pecs, down his abs, and stopping at the band of his sweatpants.

He looks up at you through his bangs and your pussy throbs. The man flicks his hair back, hand gliding and palming his cock over the thick fabric. Todoroki must’ve already worked himself up, you note as you watch his half-hard cock create a sizable imprint in his sweats.

You’re biting your lip, trying not to reach down and touch yourself. He looks so enticing. Part of you wants to jump up and break down his door, pulling him into a sharp kiss as he…

Todoroki moans behind the glass, head tilting back as his Adam’s apple bobs. You can’t see exactly what he’s doing, but it’s enough to make you feel… hot. Almost angry, he had the nerve to touch himself in front of you yet play shy when you were face to face. If he was going to be so bold as to unashamedly stroke himself, you’d be even bolder by darting up out of your seat and running out the front door.

You miss his smirk as he pulls on his shirt and waits for the piercing sound of your knuckles rapping against the door. After a moment, he hears it and steadily opens it with a teasing smile.

“Hello,” he greets casually, despite the erection straining the front of his pants.

Neither of you can wait anymore as you nearly tackle him with a kiss. He easily holds you, big hands cupping your waist and pawing at your ass. It’s desperate; it’s passionate. Todoroki grunts as his back hits his kitchen island, “do you wanna do this right now?”

“I don’t think I can wait,” your lips graze over him, “I know you need me.”

Todoroki pulls you closer till his leg slides between yours. The small motion makes you lose focus at the delicious pressure against your clit; your arms delicately wind around his broad shoulders as he bruises your lips with another kiss.

“Yeah, yeah, I do,” he murmurs, spit slicking his lips.

  His tongue, pink and sweet, glides over yours like butter. The two of you fight to win, each trying to usurp the power of the other and take control. You scratch against his back, Todoroki presses his leg against your soaked pussy, and your hand sneaks down to squeeze his cock that soaks pre-cum into his boxers. 

At some point, it goes from a battle to simply indulging in the good feelings. Saliva pools in your mouth as you dry-hump each other like animals. Whimpers echo in the air, but he caves first.

“Wait,” he pauses, chest heaving and lips glossy, “let me…”

The small of your back meets the counter before Todoroki captures your lips in another kiss. He’s grown confident, fingers cradling your wrist and hands fondling your tits.

“Ah! Todoroki,” your body melts easily into his palm, “take me, god. I’ve been waiting long enough.”

“Have you? I think I’ve waited for longer,” his teeth graze over the curve of your neck, “you started it.”

His hands expertly sneak up your shirt within minutes; it makes you wonder what else he’s hiding from you. Your fingers curl into his hair easily. Tugging lightly, the pleasure and blushed face of the man before you made your core throb.

“Then let me finish it,” you murmur softly, hand sliding down to his sweatpants.

“Mhm,” the two of you stare at each other as your hand slides past the cotton barriers to touch smooth, hot skin.

Then, his eyes look blown out, and his hands are spinning you around so fast you nearly get whiplash. Excitement shakes through your body like bursting fireworks as you help tug down your bottoms. 

Large hands eagerly spread your ass, Todoroki watching your hole clench and drip arousal down your thigh. His mouth instinctually waters, and his knees want to give in. You would taste so sweet. Todoroki can’t keep his eyes off your drooling pussy. You’re mewling, though, impatient as a thumb runs over your slit before rubbing tight circles against your clit, “You’re so beautiful.”

He slips a finger in, leaving your words choked and broken, “T-thank you.”

“Of course, baby,” he hopes the nickname lands, “oh, you liked that.”

It’s embarrassing to hear the squelch of his fingers inside you. You clench easily at his motions when he flicks his fingers up harshly or calls you such sweet names. Even he chuckles at your obvious arousal.

“Shut the hell up…!

You still squeak as he fingers your cunt. His fingers are reaching spots that even yours couldn’t; it feels so good. One hand of his keeps you pinned by the small of your back while the other eagerly reveals the wet and clicking sounds of your pussy.

“I wouldn’t be so rude.”

The smack against your ass makes stars burst behind your eyes. You could cum like this in minutes.

“Please, Todoroki,” you weakly beg for mercy, needing nothing more than to feel the primal thrusts of him fucking his cum into you.

“Fuck,” he breathes into your neck, “I need to fuck you.”

“Yeah, yeah, you do,” breathless, you go up on your tiptoes, “Please fuck me, Todoroki.”

He hadn’t even prompted you to beg, yet you acted perfectly like his own awaiting toy. Todoroki can’t line himself up against you fast enough, blunt head pressing against your needy hole while you try to breathe through the inevitable stretch.

You were prepared well. The stretch of his cock as he slowly slides into you feels like magic, and you’re keening like you’re in heat. It’s hot, overwhelming, it smells like his apartment, and he was balls deep inside of you.

“Aah, fuck,” his voice warbles, fingers leaving clear prints on your rounded hips.

“So good, god, so good!”

There’s a soft “pap” when his hips meet yours, but then he’s immediately diving into both of your pleasures. He dials in with thrusts, shaking you and churning your insides while you can only grab for purchase against the counter.

It leaves you breathless, and you’re squeezing like a vice around him as he pumps in and out of you. It’s a delicious rhythm; the push and pull are so terribly addicting that you can feel the swirl of your orgasm at the pit of your stomach.

“You’re squeezing me so tight; gonna cum? Gonna cum all over my cock?”

You babble nonsensically as he reaches around to rub your clit. His hands slip over your clit, but he can see your manicured toes curling as he makes you succumb to him.

“Todoroki, Todoroki! I’m cumming–oh god, I-I’m cumming!”

For a minute, everything goes blank. As if you’ve been flashbang.

“Good girl,” Todoroki whispers in the shell of his ear as he chases his own pleasure, “You’re so good for me.”

It crashes down onto you hard. Your entire body trembles, muscles locking up as you cum hard, creaming on him as he watches in awe. Todoroki releases a heavy groan as he finally fills you. It’s white-hot, and he heaves over you. His heavy body completely smothers you in a way that feels reassuring. In a way that feels loving.

The two of you lay still in the post-coital glow, catching your breaths and murmuring soft words. “Let me get you a tissue,” he says as he kisses your shoulder.

You’re unsure why your heart aches as he cleans up your tender pussy and picks up your bottoms.

“Hey, you know I….”

Todoroki raises an eyebrow as you trail off.

“I’m not that kind of woman,” you say with an air of finality, “just so you know.”

The man before you blinks before giving you a genuine smile.

“I never thought you were.”

You leave soon after, giving him a sweet kiss and quickly bounding to your apartment. In the evening, Todoroki catches you crossing your living room. You pause, smiling, before blowing a kiss and shutting the blinds.

[wannaeatramyeon]

Lookism x Reader: Happy Holidays!

G/N. Soft fluff. (All my blorbos - Gun Park, Goo Kim, Ryuhei Kuroda, Jake Kim, Vin Jin, Samuel Seo)

Gun Park - Hat

For the man that could buy pretty much anything, you opted to go for homemade. A personal touch.

Issue is, your personal touch is pretty shitty and shoddy. Gun still accepts the hat with a straight face and heartfelt thanks even as you tell him he doesn't have to wear it.

Why wouldn't I, he thinks. You have spent your time and effort making this for him and he appreciates it. Even if it isn't quite his... taste.

.

.

"What is that on your head?" Goo exclaims, torn between bursting into laughter and abject horror at the crimson bobble hat Gun is sporting. Ends of his hair poking out, and the colour highlighting the red of his windswept cheeks and nose.

"Fuck off."

"I think it's cute," Crystal grins as Goo whirls around and screeches.

"Cute?! Gun Park? Have you lost your mind?"

"Like you can say anything with those ridiculous mittens."

"My mittens are not ridiculous!"

Ignoring Crystal and Goo devolving into slinging insults at each other, Kouji glances at Gun and chuckles, opens his mouth to tease-

And is intercepted by a look from Gun, and a warning. "Shut it if you want to live."

Kouji's mouth slams shut.

.

.

Goo -  Mittens

"Tasteless," Gun sneers, and Goo kicks his ass for it.

"Tasteless," Kouji sighs, and Goo throws his laptop out the window.

"Tasteless," Crystal laments, and Goo- well. Goo can't exactly do anything. That's his boss's daughter, and nepotism is kinda a thing.

So he snarls, nostrils flaring and calls her tasteless too.

.

.

"I. LOVE. THESE!" You screech, high and shrill when you yank the mittens out of the box.

Tasteless huh, Goo thinks smugly as you cover him in kisses, No surprise it's everyone else that has no taste.

Birds of a feather truly flock together where you and Goo are concerned. Birds of a feather will also be able to keep their hands warm with their couples mittens too.

A conjoined monstrous thing, that allows you two to keep holding hands through the bitter Seoul winter. Keeping your fingers intertwined and an objectively OTT display of PDA. That you had to be touching, can't even bear to keep your hands to yourself for a moment, that you would need such an accessory.

Goo thought it was perfect when he laid eyes on it, if the way you two are always attached at the hip is any indication.

You clearly think so too, when Goo unwraps his own gift-

-Delighted and cackling, pulling out the same duplicate mittens.

.

.

Ryuhei Kuroda - Card

"Y/N!" Ryuhei calls you from down the hallway, waving enthusiastically before striding over.

"Here," he grins, handing over a card, "Happy Holidays. Hope you like it!"

.

.

The card sits on your desk. It's somewhere between cringe and cheesy, and utterly charming.

On the front is a (badly) hand drawn picture of you and Ryuhei, signed with his signature in the corner. Inside, a couple lines of explicit filth accompanied with sickeningly sweet declarations and too many hearts and kisses to count.

You blame it on the festive period. That's the reason you're feeling so soppy and sentimental, why every time you look at the crappy drawing you can't help but smile.

.

.

Ryuhei blinks, eyebrows shooting up to his hairline, "You kept it?"

"Yeah," you peer at the card in your periphery, "I like it."

"You like it? Really?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

You hear Ryuhei mumbling something about how someone (no prizes for guessing who) would always just dump them in the trash without opening.

"...And they weren't even lewd," he sighs, then perks up, any gloominess dissipating and eyes practically sparkling, "But that's all in the past."

Absolutely delighted, Ryuhei leans over your desk, practically lying across it, and punctuates each word with a kiss, "You!” MWAH “Like!” MWAH “It!” MWAH

"Yeah," you smile fondly at your idiot, cupping his face, "I like you too."

.

.

Jake Kim - Gifts

Jake shrugs off his jacket and loosens his tie. It's been a long day. Actually, it's just been a long goddamn year.

He runs his fingers through his hair, ready to jump in the shower and straight to bed when-

Gift bags and presents cover his coffee table and a 'DO NOT OPEN! IT'S NOT FOR YOU!' sign catches his eye.

Huh. That is undoubtedly your scrawl, but if they're not gifts for him then...? He fires off a quick text.

Jake: hey, did you leave some presents at mine?

Y/N: yeah!

Y/N: i did some shopping and grabbed some stuff for your big deal boys

Y/N: and lua ofc

Jake, jaw dropping open at your thoughtfulness: really?

Y/N: yep. sinu and yeonhui too btw.

Jake: are you serious??

Y/N: yeah.. is that not ok?

He’s rendered speechless. And that you might even think that you have overstepped or any such nonsense is ridiculous.

Jake: wow

Jake: it’s more than ok

Jake: you didn’t have to

Jake: i appreciate it.thank you

Y/N: 😁 its just some small bits and pieces. i didn't think you would have time

Y/N: i left some food for you in the fridge too 🥰

His breath hitches and stomach grumbles, your message reminding his body he hasn't had anything since this morning.

Jake starts to type-

I can't believe-

You're the best-

I'm so lucky-

You're too good to-

I don't know what I would do without-

None of them feel right.

In the end he settles for something far simpler.

He dials your number, hears the question in your voice when you pick up.

And pours everything into three words, "I love you."

.

.

Vin Jin - Cheonliang

Vin opts for casual and nonchalant, pretends it's something that he thought of rather than something that he has wondered about for the last few weeks.

(Used Mary as a soundboard and she had thought it was a good idea, and if Mary thinks it's a good idea then it definitely is.)

It was a passing thought, at first. A small seed planted and grown until all Vin can think about is how nice the holidays would be with you, how cool it would be to show you where he grew up.

He can't ever escape the awful memories there that still haunt him, but... maybe he can create new memories too.

With you.)

"If you're not doing anything for the holiday break," Vin keeps his eyes on his phone, scrolling now and then to keep up appearances, "Want to come visit Cheonliang with me?"

The question is casual. Easygoing. Breezy. His voice doesn't crack at the end. He's not holding his breath waiting for your reply. He doesn't desperately wish you would say yes, and hasn’t already planned the days with you in advance.

"Really?"

"Yeah," Vin forces himself to shrug, "Might be nice."

"I would love to!"

Vin takes a peek in your direction, double checks he didn't just hallucinate your agreement or that you're joking.

He didn't, and you're not. All he sees is excitement painted over your face and a wide smile. You know how much this means.

He wraps his arm around your shoulder, a weight lifted from his own. Equally anxious and thrilled to show you every part of himself.

.

.

Samuel Seo - Gift

"This would look good on you," Samuel shows you a piece of fine jewellery on his phone. It's exquisite. A bit too much for everyday wear (of course Samuel would pick this out, he himself is a bit too much), though it really is stunning.

You tell him it's beautiful.

He pauses, studies your face, then clicks the screen off. Back to square one. "You don't love it."

It's not accusatory, just a statement. But he feels like he needs to get this right. Your first holiday together and you deserve the world. He wants to get you something, really spoil you, to show how much you mean to him.

You take in Samuel's face and can't help but giggle. Him trying to remain unaffected except for a small, telling pout.

"I would love it if you got it for me," You shuffle over until you're sitting in his lap, "But I don't need it."

He wraps you in his arms, adjusting until you're both comfortable, "What do you need?"

"Nothing," Grinning, "I don't need anything else."

"Fine, then what do you want?"

"You."

Your cheesy response earns an eye roll and a reluctant huff of laughter, "You got me. What else do you want?"

"Nothing," you repeat, leaning in and lifting his glasses off. "You're enough."

You pepper his face with kisses until Samuel melts into a puddle; all thoughts of proving his love with price tags and money completely forgotten.

[steddieprompts]

Been craving Eddie and Max content but I can't not write about Steddie so...

-----

"Stop pacing." Max sighed from her ER bed.

"I can't help it. I hate hospitals." Eddie grumbled.

"You can go. I'm nineteen, I don't need an adult with me, you know?"

"I'm not shirking my brotherly duty."

Max snorted.

"What? You don't think I'm doing a good job?"

"No... you said duty."

"Jesus and they haven't even put you on pain meds yet."

"Just trying to get you to chill out." Max sighed, wincing when her arm shifted. Eddie eyed her arm before looking back up at her.

"Did you almost land it?"

"This close," Max said, holding up her fingers in a pinch gesture.

"What about the qualifiers?"

Max sighed again at that. She had been working towards getting in the X-games. She wasn't going to let a broken wrist slow her down though.

"The cast should be off before then. I can still skate with a broken wrist."

Eddie was about to reply when the door to the room opened.

"Hello, nurse," Involuntary left Eddie' mouth like some sort of cartoon animal. Max threw Eddie a look that he didn't see, but luckily the man didn't seem to hear him.

"Maxine?" The Greek God in scrubs moonlighting as a nurse asked Max as he pulled her chart off the end of her bed.

"Max, but yeah."

"Max, I'm nurse Steve. I'll be taking care of you until Dr. Wheeler sees you," the man said, eyes flicking over to Eddie. "Who do we have with you today?"

Eddie stared, enchanted by nurse Steve's eyes. Seconds ticked by before Max took mercy.

"This is my brother, Eddie."

"Eddie," Steve nodded at him with the slightest hint of a smirk before looking back to Max, "Max, Dr. Wheeler is the best ER doctor this hospital has. You are in good hands." Max nodded. "So, here for a broken wrist, huh?"

"Guess so."

"On a scale of one to five, where is your pain right now?"

"Four."

"Okay, I'm gonna get you some pain meds. Are you allergic to anything besides..." Steve flipped through her chart, "Bee stings and shellfish?"

"She can't take oxy," Eddie finally spoke up, the initial trance the man had over him wearing off slightly.

"I'm not allergic to oxy," Max retorted.

"Last time you took oxy, you puked all over my van, Red."

"That was from the anesthesia."

"I'm not taking that chance."

"Okay! Okay, we will give you something that isn't oxycodone based, okay?"

"Much appreciated, Stevie," Eddie smiled at him, taking pleasure in the way Steve almost fumbled taking his pen out of his pocket. Eddie glanced over at Max to see her roll her eyes.

"I'm gonna go get the meds and update your chart. Do you need anything before I go?" Max shook her head and Steve nodded. "Okay, hang tight."

Eddie stared at Steve's retreating form as he left the room.

"Uh, I know I said I wouldn't shirk my brotherly duties but..."

"Uhg, God, gross," Max fake gagged, "Whatever, loser. Go. Chase."

"Thanks, sis," Eddie threw over his shoulder, already halfway across the room.

He caught sight of Steve two rooms down and he nearly ran to catch him before he opened the door. Steve saw him and paused.

"Hey," Eddie started. Real smooth.

"Is Max okay?" Steve asked, concern pinching his brow.

"Red? Yeah, no, she's fine." Eddie waved over his shoulder dismissively.

"Oh, okay. Did you need something?"

"Just wondering if you get a break? I could buy you a coffee?"

Eddie watched as Steve smiled before biting his lip. Jackpot.

Steve looked over his shoulder before waving for Eddie to follow him. They ducked into an empty room.

"I am strictly prohibited from getting involved with patients or family while they are under my care, but..." Steve reached into his pocket and took out a card. "Turn around."

Eddie did as he was told and he felt Steve press the card to his back before he heard the click of a pen.

"If you just happened to somehow get my number and texted me once Max was discharged, I wouldn't mind dinner."

Eddie felt a chill when Steve's hands left his back. He turned around and Steve pressed the card into his palm.

"By the way, you had me at 'hello, nurse,'" Steve grinned at him.

"Don't get that often?" Eddie asked, pocketing the card.

"Not from hot guys who look like they could fix my car."

"How'd you know?"

"Lucky guess... and you have grease on you cheek." Steve smirked.

Suddenly a head popped through the doorway to the room. "Dingus! You're falling behind on your rotation!" The woman whisper-yelled.

"Shit, Sorry Robs," Steve hissed before turning back to Eddie. "Duty calls."

Eddie and Robin snorted simultaneously

"Jesus, what?"

"You said duty." They said at the same time.

"Never mind. When you text me, I'm not responding," Steve said leaving the room, but not before Eddie caught the smile he was trying to hide.

When Eddie made it back to Max's room he was staring at the card with Steve's number on it.

"Oh good, my horn dog brother got hot nurse Steve's number but I still don't have any pain meds."

"Shush. He's working on it. Don't insult my future husband like that."

"God, just kill me now."

[the-oblivious-writer]

Touch Tank

Tara Carpenter x Reader

One-shot

Summary: Tensions are high when you go over to the Carpenters' apartment after telling Tara you would fix their sink; Sam isn't exactly what you would call your 'biggest fan'

Warning(s): Swearing, Tara & R aren't together, & no pronouns used

Notes: Another work based off of Gilmore Girls! Currently re-watching it and I'm slowly inching towards s3 ep 19... I'm avoiding it like the plague (I wanna stay in literali bliss just a lil longer 😔)

4/7 for Seven Days of Christmas

You made the mistake of agreeing to fix Tara’s sink.

Somehow Tara roped you into agreeing. Plumbers were expensive, and with paying rent in New York while also paying for college, they were already on a tight budget. You offered them a cheaper price, and you honestly didn’t mind giving Tara a favor.

That was before you remembered Sam would be there too.

You have known Tara all of five months, and in that time you haven’t exactly left the best impression on her older sister. Sam has already caught you sneaking in ten times—you got lucky every other time—and it didn’t help that you had an attitude. 

Tara wanted nothing more than for Sam to get to know you—to not just go off the you she made up in her head. So, when Sam found out you would be coming to fix their kitchen sink… she figured it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to give you another shot. Besides, she was doing this for Tara. She wasn’t sure as to why Tara was so persistent on it, but all she knows is that Tara wants you and her to get along. 

—

You walk up the stairs to the shared apartment after getting buzzed in by Tara. Once you get to the door you knock and the door opens.

“Hey,” Tara greets.

“Hey back,” you reply. Tara moves to the side, letting you in. Once you’re inside you look at Tara once again before smiling to yourself.

“You’re very punctual,” she remarked—watching as your eyes wandered.

“Yeah, well, it was either this or more apartment hunting with Danny.”

“You’re moving?”

You shrugged, “I don’t know. Don’t really get the point—the apartment’s fine. He says there’s ‘interior damage’ or whatever. Nothing I can’t fix.”

“Who knows; a new place could be nice.”

“I guess. He’s kinda eyeing the vacant apartment that’s not too far from yours.”

“Really?”

“Yeah… not saying it’s a sure thing but if we do move, can you promise you won’t get sick of me?”

“Sick of that face? Never…” She gently pinched your cheek teasingly; heat rushed to your face. 

“Did you change your hair?” You asked suddenly, changing the subject.

“What?”

“Your hair looks…different.”

“So segway’s not your thing, huh?” 

“Is it?” 

“Uh, no. I wear it like this a lot. Why?”

“Just…” You shrug, “Different.”

“Oh. Bad ‘different’?” She tugged on the hem of her shirt, suddenly feeling nervous for some reason. 

You smirk, about to answer her question, but turn your head when you hear a noise coming from down the hall. It sounded like Sam yelling a curse before Tara looked back at you with a light chuckle.

“The sink hasn’t been putting her in the best mood,” she elaborates. 

“She’s usually in a good mood?” You quip with raised eyebrows, tone laced in sarcasm. Tara scolds you with a look, causing you to back down. “Alright, alright.” 

“This fucking sink is driving me insane–” Sam cuts herself off, stopping in her tracks when she sees you. 

“Oh. Y/N. You’re here,” she says and you simply nod at her words. “Refreshing to see you use the front door for once…” She murmurs but you and Tara hear it. Tara scolds her with the same look she gave you just moments before. 

“If you want there’s Dr. Pepper in the kitchen,” Sam reluctantly offered. You looked at Tara then at Sam before briefly nodding. 

After a few seconds of silence, Sam clears her throat. “Okay, well, everything’s in the kitchen if you want to get started. The toolbox, and gloves are all there. If you need anything else just call one of us.” 

Tara looks between you and Sam before speaking up, “Come on, I’ll show you.” She extends her hand, gesturing to the direction of the kitchen. You begin to walk in that direction but before Tara follows behind, she gives Sam a look.

“I’m trying,” Sam huffed. 

“Well keep it up pleasee,” Tara requested as she walked away to the kitchen. 

By the time she was there, you were already setting up. “Question,” She states.

“Yes?” You put the pair of gloves in your back pocket, looking over at Tara.

“You come over. You seem to have a very firm grasp of the English language. You put together several full sentences—even using a couple of words that contain two or more syllables. And then my sister appears, and suddenly we need a thought bubble over your head to understand what you’re thinking. Can you tell me why that is?”

You looked down at the four-way silicone key in your hand before looking at Tara again with a  response. “The verbal thing comes and goes.” 

Tara sighed, lightly rolling her eyes. “I would really appreciate it if you would try to get along with my sister.”

“I took the Dr. Pepper,” you stated as a matter of factly. 

She furrowed her eyebrows, “I know.”

“Personally, I think it’s a little crazy to put lemon in Dr. Pepper—buuuut I took it anyhow.” You reached for the bucket and rag as you heard Tara huff.

“Stop it.”

“Ooo, stern face,” you say as you lift the tool and bucket to place by the sink. Tara continues, following you as you crouched down by the sink.

“Look. I went out on a limb for you, trying to get my sister to give you the benefit of the doubt. Okay? So, I don’t think it would hurt you to try to be nice.”

You put down the wrench you had just picked up, now fully turned and standing to look at Tara as you spoke. “Why?” You simply asked, taking off your jacket.

“Why?” Tara mirrored.

“Yeah. Why?” 

“Because she’s my sister—and she and Danny are dating.”

“So?” You tossed your jacket on top of a nearby chair.

“What do you mean ‘so’?” She asked incredulously; her eyebrows stayed furrowed.

“So, just because she’s your sister or Danny’s girlfriend doesn’t mean that I automatically have to get along with her,” you stated with pure conviction, rolling up your sleeves. 

“Y/N, my sister is a great person. She’s also my best friend—so if you care about me at all you will take that into consideration,” Tara was now crossing her arms as she stood her ground. “And you will be mildly polite to her.”

You couldn’t help but smirk, looking her up and down before responding. “What makes you think I care about you?” Tara didn’t need eyes to know you were smirking and enjoying this way too much.

She blushes, looking down at the ground and shaking her head as she grows flustered. “I–I don’t mean care-care. Like—care. I mean if you like me at all—not like-like! I just meant that–” Tara stumbles over her words, tucking in a loose strand of hair behind her ear. You watch her with amusement, a soft smile grazing your face as you let out a light snort.

“If you think of me remotely as the sort of person you could occasionally stand to talk to then you will try to get along with my sister. That’s all.” 

Your eyes never pulled from her once, only looking at her with fondness as you finally said something. “Okay,” you nod.

“Okay?”

“Can’t guarantee that it’ll work but I’ll try,” you confirm. 

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome…” You glance at the sink then back at Tara. “Should probably get to work.”

“Right. Sorry—go ahead.” She turns to walk away, looking at you one more time before leaving the kitchen. You crouch down by the sink again, not meeting her gaze but feeling it. She doesn’t see how you grin to yourself; your mind being plagued with thoughts of the younger Carpenter.

Guess it wouldn’t hurt to make an effort. 

—

Later that night, you decided to stop by Tara’s window for a surprise visit. You looked at her for a few seconds—admiring how peaceful she looked—before lightly tapping on her window. She turned to look at the window, a grin grazing her face when her eyes meets yours.

She lifted the window with a smile as you looked up at her fondly. “Hey,” you finally said after the window fully opened, expression never faltering as you leaned your head against the window frame.

“Hey back,” she replied. “Didn’t you say something to Sam about not coming through the window anymore.” Tara heard from Sam that you managed to hold somewhat of a conversation with the older Carpenter, actually making an effort to try with her. No matter how awkward it might have been on your end, at least you tried.

“You talk about me with Sam?” You asked smugly.

She rolled her eyes with an infectious smile. “Just get inside.”

“I didn’t hear a no~” You say in a sing-song voice. Tara pulled you in by your sleeve, roughly, might you add. “Watch the shirt,” you complain while you’re pulled inside her room.

“Quirk it.”

“How gentle,” you sarcastically complimented; you dusted your pants off with your free hand, not commenting on how Tara still held a grip on your other arm. 

“So,” Tara began as she sat on her bed—dragging you with her, “What are we watching tonight?”

“I can’t do Freaky Friday again.”

“Fine.”

“How about Cursed?” You inquired. Tara was leaning her back against your chest; she looked up at you with those beautiful brown eyes.

“That movie’s terrible.”

“One-hundred percent, but Milo Ventimiglia is in it.”

“Doesn’t he only have like six minutes of screen time?”

“But in it, nevertheless.”

“You drive a hard bargain… Get the laptop?”

You respond by reaching over to the night stand, grabbing her laptop. You hand it to her and she opens it on her lap. 

Tara would never comment on how she was the only one who got this side of you—the gentle, kind, and considerate side. Well, when she wants to see you squirm she comments on it. But for now, she’ll keep it to it herself.

-----------

A/N: the urge to write a paper on how jess mariano is a truly misunderstood character grows each & each day...

(I got beef with star hallows. we leave it at that.)

[atleastpleasetelephone]

UHM SO I WAS THINKING — sub! elvis and dom! fem reader. context is she caught him talking to another girl even though the girl was clearly hitting on him. they end up in bed with him all tied up and she overstimulates him and degrades him until hes crying and cant take it anymore.

"you want her to suck your cock? *My* cock?"

A/N: Oh lordy. Okay I've really gone for it here, so I hope you enjoy... this is a sequel to the latex/leather kinktober story I wrote in October.

I'd do anything

Pairing: Sub!Elvis x Dom!Reader

Word count: 2.1K

TWs: Reader is dominant and controlling, possessive kink, name-calling, degradation kink, bondage, Elvis calls reader mama, teasing, begging, edging, overstimulation, Elvis cries, semi-ruined orgasm, hand job, oral, suffocation.

Elvis doesn’t ask the blonde to sit next to him and he certainly doesn’t ask her to start talking to him. If anything, he’s been trying to put her off, talking loudly to Charlie and looking anywhere but her face. He shouldn't have let her sit down really, but his mind was elsewhere. She’s not put off, continuing to talking about how good his show was, batting her eyelashes and twirling a strand of hair around her finger. By the time you walk into the backstage area she has her hand on his thigh. His eyes had been roaming the room, looking for you desperately. Once they find you he stands up, the movement dislodging her. She makes some kind of noise but he’s not paying any attention, all his focus is on you as he starts to walk over to where you’re standing, one hand on your hip.

Things have really developed between the two of you since that time he wore the latex suit to the afterparty. You’ve been more and more interested in his clothes, telling him to wear the brightly patterned shirt he’s lounging in, post-show, and to go onstage without those little white panties that he’s been told he ought to wear to keep himself modest. You’d spent the whole of tonight's midnight show teasing him from your front row table, making him blush and fiddle, adjusting himself over and over. He was a flushed mess by the end of it, barely able to think, only still up there onstage because he knows the songs inside out. So when that blonde started talking to him he was too distracted by thoughts of you to stop her. He’s still distracted by them when he reaches you, his hand slipping around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

“Hey, baby.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Don’t you “hey baby” me. Who’s that girl?” You jab an accusatory finger in the air in her direction. Your voice is calm, but there's an undercurrent he knows very well.

Shrugging, he tries to sound nonchalant. “I dunno, honey. Just a fan.”

“Just a fan,” you repeat, looking him right in the eye. “Just a fan you want to fuck, right?”

“N-no, honey.” He looks around uncomfortably, hoping no-one heard that. “Y’know you’re all I want.” His hand moves to touch your face and you slap it away irritably.

“Don’t bullshit me,” you hiss. “She had her hand on your thigh.”

“Exactly, baby. She had her hand on my thigh, not the other way around.” He creeps closer, trying to touch you again but you take a deliberate step back.

“So she wants to suck your cock, huh?” You drop your voice to a low, menacing whisper, “my cock.”

He flushes crimson again. “Y-yeah I guess s-so, maybe… I d-didn’t do anything though, Mama.”

“Oh, you didn’t do anything. So shaking your hips like some kind of slut and deep-throating the mic on stage aren’t anything? No way she could’ve got the wrong idea from that tight little jumpsuit you were wearing, flaunting yourself like a whore?”

Elvis' mind is a blur. There are people everywhere and he’s afraid someone is going to hear some of the downright degrading things you’re saying to him, and then he’s afraid they’re going to notice the bulge in his pants that’s growing with every insult. Part of his mind keeps unhelpfully telling him that actually you picked the jumpsuit and you told him not to wear pants, so if he’s part of the problem you certainly are too. He mumbles his apologies and tells you over and over how it’s all his fault that this girl has been flirting with him, hoping that will be enough to placate you. That this is happening in a room full of people is exciting and terrifying all at once.

“You’ll get your punishment later,” you tell him, your lips against his ear as the pair of you start to do the rounds, talking to musicians and fans alike.

Swallowing hard, he tries to subtly rearrange himself. His heart is racing. He can’t wait for later.

***

Later turns out to not be that much later, because you can’t wait either and so you tell him to clear the suite as soon as you get back to it. He’s naked on his back in the middle of the bed within seconds, and you can’t help grinning at his eagerness as you lock the door to the room. Big blue eyes watch silently as you tie his hands to the head of the bed and his feet to the other end, arms stretched above his head and legs apart. You take a moment to step back and admire your handiwork. From his wide eyes and red, bitten lips to his red, swollen cock, laying on his stomach with precum beading at the tip, he’s a vision.

You sit on one side of the bed, running your fingertips teasingly all over his skin, enjoying watching him wiggle to try and get more contact.

“You’ve been a naughty boy, haven’t you?”

Elvis nods quickly. “Yes, Mama.”

“Naughty boys don’t deserve to cum, do they?”

He whines. “P-please, Mama. She was talkin’ to me.”

“She wasn’t just talking, was she, baby?” You chide, your hand laying flat at the top of his thigh now. “She was touching you. Like this.” You start to slowly drag your hand upwards as you continue. “If I hadn’t walked in, who knows what would’ve happened.” Your hand grasps his cock a little too firmly and he squeaks.

“N-no, Mama.”

“No Mama?”

“She wouldn’t have… I wouldn’t have… I only… I only want you.” He’s breathless as you start to move your hand on him, slowly.

“You know how I feel about people touching my things, baby.”

He squirms, starting to struggle against the restraints in anticipation of what will happen next.

“Please… please Mama…”

“Please?”

“Please d-don’t punish me…”

You shake your head, keeping up the rhythm of your hand on his cock, watching his abdominal muscles twitch and clench as he gets close.

“Have to, baby. How else will you learn?”

He whines as he watches your hand speed up and then suddenly move away again.

“Please,” he whispers. Sometimes begging helps. Well, it certainly never hurts.

You giggle, leaning down to lick a stripe up his swollen member. “So pathetic,” you tell him, licking back down again.

“‘S sore…”

You actually laugh at that. “Sore? I'm only just getting started, baby.”

Wrapping your hand around him, you start again at a maddeningly slow pace. “So pathetic and desperate…” you sigh to illustrate your level of disappointment with him.

His big blue eyes stare up at you. “Yes, Mama.”

“Begging for it, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Mama.”

Your mouth curls into a smile at his obedience, and he briefly starts to get hopeful. But he’s disappointed again, groaning as you speed up only to let go at what seems like the last possible moment again. He shouldn’t beg again but his dignity is out of the window at this point.

“Please, Mama. Please let me cum… I’ll be good, I promise… I’m sorry…”

You slip your mouth over the head of his cock and he moans loudly, body arching off the bed as his hands pull hard against the restraints. Opening your throat, you take him all in one smooth movement, your hands pressing as much of your weight as you can through his hips to hold him down. The noises he’s making are starting to sound inhuman. You bob your head once, twice, and then pull off completely.

“Ahhh FUCK!”

His dick feels so swollen it’s painful, his release heavy in his balls. You giggle again as you look at him. He’s wrecked. But you want to take it further.

“You look a mess. A pathetic mess.”

He’s panting, trying to hold back from completely losing it, knowing he can’t escape the ties no matter how much he struggles, and that there’s a good chance that you’ll just leave him there if he doesn’t agree with whatever you say.

“Yes, Mama.”

“Say it. Tell me you’re a pathetic mess.”

“I’m a… I’m a p-pathetic mess…” His chest is heaving.

You grin and take his cock back in your hand again, stroking it. His eyes are like saucers as he feels his release in the base of his cock. Any minute now, you’re going to move your hand and he’s going to be disappointed. Any… minute… now… panting, he starts to think maybe you’ve changed your mind, despite what you just said, because you’re still moving on him and his orgasm is so close now he can almost taste it.

And then you move your hand again.

He howls in frustration and tears gather in the corners of his eyes and spill down his cheeks. He’s. So. Close. This is torture.

“Mama, PLEASE. I can’t take it… I can’t take it anymore…”

You smirk and without another word you move your hand to just lightly poke his dick with your little finger.

He gasps in shock when that's all it takes to make him cum, white fluid spurting from the head of his twitching, swollen member. You throw your head back and laugh as he tries desperately to free himself from the restraints. Your heart is beating out of your chest at just how cruel you’ve been - you didn’t even know if it would work, if you could take your hand away at just the right time and make him cum with such a tiny movement. But it was perfect. You gave him an orgasm with almost none of the usual satisfaction. It’s fucking ruined. He can barely think, his brain is mush as he desperately tries to work out what the fuck just happened. There’s a weird high feeling, a feeling like he’s spinning in space, knowing you’ve just taken his orgasm from him, you’re in control and have all the power and he has nothing. You’ve robbed him of the pleasure he was supposed to have and somehow that makes him all the more desperate for you. The tears don’t stop flowing down his cheeks.

“Mama,” he whimpers.

He’s so pathetic-sounding you take pity on him, untying him and lying down next to him on the bed. Taking his face in your hands you stare into his tear-filled eyes.

“Awww, poor pathetic baby boy. Came just from my little finger.” You hold it up in front of his face to illustrate, with a little giggle.

He whines, wriggling closer, pushing his face into the crook of your neck and nuzzling you. You wrap your arms around him, kissing his hair.

“Love you, Mama,” he mumbles.

You bite your lip at his words. He’s always so demonstrative afterwards and you love it.

“I love you too, baby.”

Part of you wants to tease him more, but you know you’re probably pushing it already so you just cuddle him, your heart full of love for him and his absolute devotion to you.

“Can I make you cum?” He asks after a while, moving his head to look at you with pleading eyes.

You grin and nod. “Of course you can, baby. Since you’ve been such a good boy.”

Rolling onto his back, he puts his hands on your thighs as you settle yourself onto his face. Your pussy is slick with arousal, you’d got very excited watching him earlier and you know it won’t take much to make you come undone. As he starts to lick you with the fervour of a devoted servant you think about the day when you jerked him off in that suit and sent him to talk to girls with cum all over himself. You grab hold of the bedpost and start grinding against his face, imagining him blushing and stuttering knowing about the mess you made him make in his pants. God. He’d do anything for you.

“Oh fuck,” you cry out as you start to get close, thinking of how desperate he’s been for you, how he’ll wear what you want and do what you want, and even sacrifice his own pleasure for you.

Rolling your hips, you ride his face until you’re moaning and cussing, pleasure rushing through your body and exploding like fireworks.

“Ohhhh.”

You gasp and sigh out his name.

Shakily moving off him, you lie down again, looking into his red face, loving the way it’s covered in you, the way he's breathing hard from being half-suffocated.

“God, I love you Elvis,” you sigh.

“I love you too baby,” he coos. “Did I make you feel good?”

You nod and touch his cheek gently. “You always do, El. You always do.”

***

Taglist:

@vintagepresley @arg-xoxo @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican @blursedblegh @returntopresley @eapep @everythingelvispresley @i-r-i-n-a-a @sissylittlefeather @arrolyn1114 @jhoneybees @cattcb @polksaladava @lookingforrainbows @jkdaddy01 @ccab @epthedream69 @lustnhim @elvisslut @pomtherine @that-hotdog @ladelinee @angschrof @fairybloodsucker @deltafalax @makethemorning @elviswhore69 @ilovequeen978 @wildhorseinkansas @pocketfulofpresley @dkayfixates @iloveelvisss @kxnnxy @presleyhearted @lvrdollep

[2knightt]

The boys reactions if you asked to do their makeup?

the gangs reactions to you wanting to do their makeup!

!warnings!

1.fem!reader

2.mentions of putting concealer and foundation on, so like just imagine you bought ones that match them lol

3.swearing and minor violence at the end.

Johnny Cade ;

“johnnycakes, would you let me do your makeup?”

you said looking at your boyfriend sitting on your bed as you did your own makeup at your vanity.

“h-huh? like..on me?”

“yes johnny, on you.”

johnny wanted to object he really did but when you just stared at him he got nervous.

he just nodded his head yes because he didn’t want to disappoint you.

so you smiled as wide as you could and shot up out of your seat.

“really?! you’d let me?”

“huh uh…”

“EEK! well, sit down!!”

johnny sighs as he makes his way over to the chair.

johnny didn’t know what you were gonna do to him!

well, he did have an idea. he watches you do your makeup so often that he’s memorized your routine.

he has to admit, he was scared at first, but when you started to do his makeup he immediately relaxed.

johnny didn’t know you doing his makeup could be this relaxing.

he almost fell asleep!

johnny’s scared of the eyelash curler. he doesn’t like how close it is to his eye.

when you’re finished and you show him the finished product, he can’t help but look at himself at all angles!

“so? did i do good?”

“yeah, real good.”

Dallas Winston ;

only way you’re gonna do his makeup is if you have pity points!

if he forgot something special or you guys just finished settling an argument and he feels bad? you just got yourself dallas winston pity points!

put ‘em to good use.

but if you’re askin’ to do his makeup, i think you are!

“dal..?”

“yea?”

“can i do your makeup?”

expect him to slowly turn his head towards you with shock and disgust.

he has dignity!! he’s a cool tuff grease, what makes you think he’s gonna put ANY sort of makeup on??

“no.”

“well, do you remember the time that you got mad at me for like no reason? you still gotta make it up to me..”

“FINE. i’ll let you do my makeup. just don’t bring that up again.”

you smile as you grab your makeup bag while dallas groans.

if you have one of those cute lil headbands with animal ears on them please put them on him?? it’d be so funny??

“y/n are you fucking kidding me?”

“what do you mean dal? you look so cute!”

dallas has ZERO clue on what you do for makeup.

he doesn’t even know what concealer is.

when your finished he just blankly stares into the mirror while you laugh your ass off.

“this isn’t funny.”

“no-no you’re absolutely right! i-it’s just the fact that thee dallas winston is wearing makeup!”

Ponyboy Curtis ;

“gee, pony. im realll bored..”

when you started anything with ‘gee’ ponyboy knew you were gonna suggest something stupid.

“*sigh* what do you want to do, y/n?”

“you should let me do your makeup!”

ponyboy scrunched his face up at the idea, but the longer he thought about it, the more okay he was.

“okay, just don’t make it wear it out in public as some cruel prank.”

“i would never!”

ponyboy would also be another one to find you doing his makeup relaxing.

he doesn’t close his eyes though, he’s too busy asking and trying to guess what you do with everything.

“oh! what’s that for? is it to like…pluck my eyebrows?”

“no pony, it’s to curl your lashes.”

“what.”

he thinks you beating his face with a beauty blender is ticklish.

“stop moving!! im trying to blend out the foundation!!”

“it ain’t my fault it tickles!”

but when you’re done he definitely forgets it’s on and goes into the living room with the gang in there.

“WOAHHH WHAT’S ON YOUR FACE PONY?”

“you got something to tell us, kid?”

“OH SH-“

and now he’s running to his room to tell you to take it off as you hear the gang laughing like hyenas in the other room.

“y/n, y/n please take this off. i need to go get a pepsi.”

Sodapop Curtis ;

he is absolutely for the idea of you doing makeup on him!

when you asked him he smiled so bright, you could’ve sworn you looked right into the sun!

“love…you should like, let me do your makeup.”

“yeah!! let’s do it!!”

when you get your makeup out, expect him to be touching everything.

the second you put something down, it’s already in his hands.

“ew, why is it sticky?!”

“cause it’s a primer, babe. it’s supposed to be sticky.”

he puts you on his lap while you do his makeup so, ‘you can see better.’

yeah right.

so the whole time while you’re doing his makeup he has his hands around your waist with his eyes closed.

OH MY GOD PLEASE LET HIM PICK THE EYESHADOW COLOUR.

he may pick ugly colours that totally clash, but it’ll make him happy.

“uhh, oh! i like this red and…that purple!”

“…seriously?”

if you put lipstick on him, expect him to try to be kissing you all the time.

“soda!! stop tryin’ to kiss me, i’m trying to put the makeup away!”

“aweee, y/n doesn’t want my kisses…??”

let him have at least one and he’ll feel better.

he DEFINITELY keeps it on all day.

“what the fuck are you wearing?”

“you don’t like it stevey wevey?🥺”

he says while making duck lips in steves direction.

Darry Curtis ;

you have to ask when he’s tired.

because when he’s with you and tired, he’ll let anything you do slide.

so while he’s sitting on his chair with his head thrown back after ponyboy and soda are sleep, it’s the best time to ask.

“hey darry?”

“..yea?”

“since you ain’t doing much, can i..do your makeup?”

his eyebrows immediately tighten at the thought, but after 10 seconds he realizes theres no use in putting up a fight.

“sure doll. just be quick.”

and on that que, you’re rushing to get everything you need!

i don’t see darry liking the feeling of makeup, so this does infact have to be a speedy process.

he doesn’t ask what anything is, he trusts you enough to know what you’re doing.

he does not let you ANYWHERE near his eyes though, it freaks him out too much. but if you’re dead set on doing full glam, expect a long conversation of trying to convince him.

“do you really have to?”

“yes darry, eyeshadow and mascara is the KEY to any makeup look! especially with these pretty browns you have!”

when your done he’ll go look in the bathroom mirror and laugh a little before he asks for you to take it off.

if you’re feeling a little silly funny and goofy, do not take the lipstick off. let it stay there and pray it stays on ‘till the morning.

and if it does? you and the gang will have a field day oh my god.

“wow, super man! what do you do at night?”

“..what?”

“JESUS CHRIST DARRY, WHY DO YOU HAVE LIPSTICK ON?”

“…WHAT?!”

Steve Randle ;

unlike his best friend, steve isn’t one for makeup.

he’s ‘too tuff for any of that!’

bullshit!

all you gotta do is twirl your pretty hair and flutter those lashes and he’ll do it.

“aw, c’mon steve! it won’t be too long..”

“fine. but speak of this to anyone and i’ll tell them about last tuesday.”

and that’s how you got steve to sit down all nice and pretty to do his makeup!

he stares at you while you do his makeup.

he doesn’t have a goddamn clue what’s going on.

he barely understands foundation, so please be patient. he will ask what everything does too.

“whats that do?”

“this is blush steve, can’t have you lookin’ like a ghost.”

another one that picks out the eyeshadow colour, expect he actually picks good colours.

he is very aware of the what colours clash and what doesn’t, and he cannot be looking like a clown around you.

“pick which colours!”

“the cream and this blue.”

he is very nervous about the mascara, very.

but once you do one eye, he’ll even blink to help you!

when you’re done he thinks you did a great job!

he might even go terrorize sodapop for the jokes.

“don’t ya think i look pretttttyyy mr.curtis?”

“steve, get out of my house and never come back.”

Two-bit Matthews ;

he isn’t new to makeup in any shape or form.

so if you ask him to do his makeup, he’ll nod his head real aggressively.

“babyy…you should let me do your makeup.”

“i thought you’d never ask!”

his little sister has definitely put makeup on him before, but like, only kiddie makeup.

so when he seen the makeup you had?? he was astonished to say the least.

“woahh! you have actual eyeshadow, and real blush!”

he will sit there looking pretty, kicking his feet as you apply the highlighter to his face.

he licks off the lipstick as soon as you put it on.

he doesn’t mean too! he’s used to his little sisters chapstick that tastes like cherries.

when you’re finished his look, he WILL keep it on with pride.

he doesn’t care.

“two-bit, are you fucking serious.”

“yes i am. my wonderful girlfriend put it on, isn’t she just the sweetest?”

“…”

“I SAID, isn’t she just the sweetest.”

and now he’s a man with makeup, holding a switchblade, threatening someone to call his girlfriend sweet.

author notes ;

1. I LOVE GETTING REQUESTS SO MUCH PLEASEEE KEEP THEM COMING??

2.also, I HAVE 42 FOLLOWERS NOW??? I STARTED NOT EVEN 3 WEEKS AGO???

taglist-ish LMFAO:

@diorgirl444 - i remember you asked to be tagged..TELL ME IF U DONT LOL🙏

may 14th, 2023.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

the girl next door 12

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

“How about it, Holly?” Steve’s voice brings you back from your trance.

You only realise then that you’ve zoned out. You look down at your plate, your burger half-eaten and the salad mostly gone. As your mom babbled on, you’d lost yourself staring out at the lawn. It didn’t really matter, she barely acknowledged you since you came out with dinner.

You glance between her and Steve, lost in the conversation already underway.

“I’d love that, it will be nice,” your mom answers, beaming across the table; the shade of the umbrella gathering in the lines of her face.

“How about you, kiddo? Grab you pajamas and join the party,” Steve looks at you.

“Huh?” You and your mom utter in unison.

“Both of us?” She asks in a brittle quaver.

“Yeah, sure, it’ll be a nice way to connect. Holly, I know you’re a mother first, it’s a package deal.”

“Mm, yeah, I just... I misinterpreted,” she puts her hand against her neck. “A sleepover, that’s fun.”

“I felt bad about last time. Don’t want anyone left out of movie night. I got popcorn, mph,” he turns to you again, “do you like cream soda? I got some cane stuff in the glass bottles--”

“That’s a lot of sugar,” your mother murmurs.

“It’s one night,” he shrugs, “it won’t hurt. Lots to go around.”

“I guess...” she forces a smile.

“Well, we can always hold off. I did promise ice cream,” he sits back and claps his thighs. “You all done?”

You stare at the table then look up in the silence. You don’t realise he’s talking to you. You nod. Your stomach won’t settle. It’s been off all day; you wonder if maybe the maple syrup was a bit too much yesterday.

“I’ll wrap it up for you, you can have it later if you want,” he stands and takes your plate, then your mother’s and his own. Where you nibbled through barely half, they had nothing left.

You sit back and cross your arms as Steve goes inside. Your mother sighs and glares past you. She’s annoyed even if you hadn’t made the decision yourself. You didn’t even accept the invitation.

“Sorry,” you mumble.

“Whatever,” she rolls her eyes, “you just can’t help but get in the way.”

She leans forward. When she’s angry, her tremors worsen. She’s barely able to keep her head still.

“I didn’t...”

“Oh, be quiet. He only feels bad for you because he knows I can’t get rid of you,” she sneers. “He knows you have nothing go for you. No job, no friends, no hobbies.” She sits back and huffs, “I tried to raise you better. I really did. I don’t know what happened.”

You lower your head. Maybe you can come up with a lie. If you can find an excuse to leave, she won’t be able to hate you.

“I could say I’m not feeling well--”

“Just stay out of the way,” she snarls.

You sniff and turn away, hiding the gloss of tears in your eyes. Sometimes, you don’t do anything at all and she’s mad. You hear Steve coming back out and you wipe your nose, keeping your face down as you shrink.

You can be invisible. You’re good at that.

🏠

Not wanting to seem ungrateful, you accept a bowl of ice cream and finish it. Strawberry. It's delicious but you just can't enjoy it. You're uneasy, unsure.

You go to grab some pajamas, your mother issuing another warning before you return to Steve's. You wear a pair of polka dot bottoms and a jersey shirt. You'll just be watching tv, and hopefully, if you can settle down, sleeping.

Your mother sits on the couch. You can see the fatigue quivering in her lip and drooping in her eyelids. She never did as much before your new neighbour. You only ever stayed inside and wilted in the sunlight.

"Holly, you need anything?" Steve asks as he pushes up the ottoman, "how about you put your feet up. I just wanted to show her something."

"What's that?" Your mom asks.

"Oh, yeah, well, I know she likes art so I wanted to show her my studio. Or office, whatever you wanna call it."

"Mm, right. Upstairs, huh?" She grumbles.

"Right," he confirms, "we won't be too long. You can find a movie." He hands her the remote, "I had some extra pencils and stuff I found on the move. Figured she could take em off my hands."

"Sure, sure," she yawns and leans her head in her hands. You can't tell if she's witholding herself out of exhaustion or for Steve's benefit.

"Come on. We'll just pop up for minute," Steve nudges your arm.

You hug one arm across your stomach and push your shoulder up. You take his direction as he points you actoss the room. You go to the stairs and climb one by one.

Further down, he takes you into another room, just across from an open bedroom. You shuffle inside and can't help marvel at the interior. The walls are hung with still lifes in pencil, charcoal, and ink, and an easel stands by the window, a large drafting table at the center of the room.

"You do these?" You ask bluntly.

"Ha, yeah, I... when I saw your sketchbook, I admit, I got a bit excited. A fellow artist."

"You're an artist? You make money off of this?"

"Sure do," he smiles proudly. "Did some time in the army then had to get out, find some peace. Always found painting calms me."

"Oh."

"I wanted to say something sooner but I wanted to show you," he enters and brushes by you, hand dragging across your back. "Let me find those pencils."

You nod and pace cautiously around the table. There's an open sketchbook. A woman's naked back greets you, a piece of fabric draped around her hips as her refined profile is etched perfectly.

He's good. Better than you. You back away as he sorts through the shelf.

'Ah, here," he turns to you again, "pencils, sketchbook, oh and maybe you'll want these watercolours. I was sent two by accident."

"Oh, uh, thanks, but... you don't have to."

"You're talented. You'll make good use of them, I know it."

"Mm, I... try."

"There's this place I know. Great view. Maybe you can come one day. Good fodder," he offers. "Trees, water, and the sunset..."

"Maybe," you agree half-heartedly.

"Then maybe you can bring it to my next art show."

"Art show?" You mutter, eyes rounding.

"Sure. It'll be good for you. I know you take care of your mom and that's sweet but you gotta make your way. Eventually."

"I know," you slump and take the sketchbooks and flat tins from him. "Thank you. I..." you look at the brand names. You know they're expensive from the catalogues you look at but never buy from. "No one... these are so nice. I appreciate it."

"No problem, sweetie. Let me know if you need anything else. Hell, if you want a quiet place to work..." he stops behind you and looks around, "even just an escape..."

“That's okay,” you say as you go back into the hall.

You head back downstairs, the pencils clattering just a little in your hands. As you enter the living room, you hear a snort. Your mom's head lolls back against the couch as she snores. Steve walks into you from behind as he stops too late.

“Oop,” he frames your hips for just a moment as he presses again your back then parts. “Sleepyhead,” he chuckles and sidles past you, a waft of his cologne filling your lungs. He didn't smell so strongly before. “Well, guess it's your choice, sweetie,” he takes the remote and holds it out to you.

“Oh, uh, you choose,” you try to wave him off but he pushes the remote into your hand.

“You can put your stuff on the table,” he points to the sketchbook clutches against your chest, “better get cozy while I get the popcorn going.”

Before you can argue, he's gone. You turn to look at your mom. Why did she have to fall asleep? She could've said no to all of this, that she's too tired. Now it's you and Steve. Hopefully, the movie keeps the chatter to a minimum.

[ncillary]

Self Aware AU (Xavier)

Summary: You have the lowest Affinity with Xavier. The reason is because you feel bad for the Queen MC and vow to play only the main story for his path so that you can find a way to return him to Queen MC safe, sound and happy end.

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Masterlist Self Aware AU

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| 1 [current] | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |

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"Why you keep staring at your phone with that dull face?" Your friend asked.

"Huh? Oh? Nothing-"

"That otome game again?" Your friend perked up knowingly.

You nodded. Your friend gestured for you to just let out of what's on your mind. You sighed. It begun.

"I just... feel bad that I always stalled the Affinity progress with Xavier. I kinda need him for Battle and not that I don't enjoy the time with him. But... he.. I want a happy ending for him."

"Isn't being with you-"

"MC"

"-sigh- Isn't being with MC, still means YOUUU, means that you achieved it? It's the core of every otome game, right?"

"I get that. But! He has someone. The true one. Queen MC. THAT'S where HE belongs. I'll return him to her. No bargain or ANY sacrifice mambo jambo. I'll build Ulruru just for their happiness. I swear."

"It's just a game. You just follow the story. If the developer did it any other way than you are forced to follow anyway. Not that you can exactly do anything about the story progress."

"Yeah... Knew that. Doesn't mean that it's not my deepest wish for Xavier and Queen MC to be happy together. My MC was made to support in any way possible."

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"Oh. A new event! Nice... Huh? Ohhhh no no no no no... First kiss! Arghhh... But the storyline is nice. Haa... ... ... bye Xavier, hope we can enjoy another fluffy limited 5* withOUT the heavy lover-indication. My MC is just your close companion." You smile before closing the game.

The LI assigned there at the time faded. A new blurry began to form until it revealed Xavier. Eyes closing as the pixels reform him to a complete 3D appearance. Fluttering open, he stared at the door, feeling the empty cafe.

"I'm here. Please see me. I want to see you more."

He slowly sat on the sofa and gradually fell asleep.

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Giggling. Feeling shaky slightly.

He stirred a bit.

Hushed voice, soothing, "Oh shoot. Sorry Xavier. Maybe I should turn off the gyro setting."

He blinked quickly and looked up. There she is. The MC. Unmoving. He quickly got up. Trying to step as close as he can to her but his feet could only settle a bit far from her unless he prompted the correct dialogue that let him get a breath away from the MC. He knew she was a proxy for the person behind the dark screen. Oh how he wished she would just reveal her face to him. But it's a good thing he at least got to hear your voice. The sound he wanted to touch the most everyday.

"Wow. You never get bored wearing that sweater. Guess it's that comfortable, huh. I get it. I hope you change to a better attire once the heat gets too much."

You're there. He can activate the prompt now.

"This is the Second Law of Cosmic Attraction."

He walked closer. Hearts thumping. Happy to be able to get closer to you. But his coded face wouldn't show how much he was actually grinning with glee.

"We'll meet those we yearn for again. No matter how long it takes."

His feet automatically dragged him back too soon for his liking.

"Hahahahaha... You and your Cosmic Law."

She proceeded to claim the Stamina for the morning. Quickly closing the game before he could prompt another dialogue.

His rigidness turned off. He could only move freely when you're not logging in.

"Dang. I should be faster next time. I hope I can force myself out this evening."

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"Haaa... It's already this late. Glad I have Free Retro this time. Huh? Xavier? This is not your usual appearance time. Oh no... Did our Affinity go up? -tap- -tap- -tap- huuu~ -tap- false alarm. Guess this is one of the rare occurrences. We'll... -yawn- m'nite Xavi-"

"I won't slip away today. I'll stay and chat with you for a while longer."

(Please stay. Please. Please. Please.)

"Hmmm... right... Weekly Plan... Didn't think finish yet. -tap- -tap-"

"When you spend your time with me. I'm spending my time with you."

(YES! YES! Go on! As long as you like!)

"Hmmm... Work... Study... Why can't there be just lounging around? We'll I'm off work. Study is better. Search all those recipes you want, Xavier."

He could hear her faint chuckling laced with tiredness.

"5 minutes-ah..."

He was sitting suddenly with MC in front of him. Studying.

"Oh to heck. 15 minutes it is. I'll just be quick and settle myself in."

He could hear walking. A light thump. Possibly she set the phone on a surface near her. Faucet running. Teeth brushing. Faucet running. Walking again. Switch sound. Lights off probably. Scrunching sound. Bluetooth connection on.

"Easier to hear that 'zwing' sound when it's complete. Let me just... haaa... release the tense of today."

He could hear you relaxing with an occasional pained sound. He got worried.

"Gosh. My shoulder is hurting. Maybe I should restock the pain relief patch tomorrow."

She breathed slowly. Slower. Barely there.

(...Is she...asleep?)

*zwing*

"Woah... I could move. And speak freely. Hahahaha... Your phone's gonna be out of juice soon. Hope you can wake up okay tomorrow."

Silent.

He cleared his throat.

"I can hear you. The real you. I'm real. Real like you. Queen MC is not you. I get it. But I want you. The real you. So please just increase our Affinity so that I can get a better control to reach out to you. I'll try to get to you too... ... ... I... ... like you."

Darkness plunged his consciousness. The battery must've died.

"I'll get to you."

A determined promise.

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| 1 [current] | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |

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Masterlist of Self Aware AU

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