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cursedlovesstuff · 27 days

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Fixing Us. Part 3.

Nat woke up later than usual, the weight of the previous night's conversation still heavy on her mind.

As she stretched out her limbs, groaning softly, she dragged herself off the couch and made her way up the stairs to the bathroom to start her morning routine.

Knocking on the bedroom door, she called out Y/N's name, but there was no response.

"Y/N?" Nat called out again, opening the door to find the neatly made bed, but Y/N was nowhere in sight. Disappointment washed over Nat as she assumed Y/N had gone out with Esther, especially since it was the weekend.

Shrugging off her disappointment, Nat proceeded with her morning routine, brushing her teeth and washing her face before reaching for her phone to text Wanda, asking if she had time to talk.

Shortly after, Wanda messaged Nat back, saying she was on her way back to the tower asking if Nat wanted to meet her there to talk.

With that, Nat grabbed her keys and made her way to the Avengers Tower.

At the tower, Wanda greeted Nat as she sat down at the kitchen table.

"What's up?" Wanda asked.

"I messed up, and I need some advice," Nat admitted.

"When you say that you've messed up and need advice, that makes me worry," Wanda replied, concern evident in her voice.

"It's nothing bad... well, it is bad, very bad, but not enough for you to worry," Nat assured her.

"Okay, so what is it this time? Did you get spotted by Hydra agents or punch someone in the face? Because those are things that I can't help with; you'll have to ask Tony," Wanda joked.

Tony walked into the kitchen, grabbing water. "Ask Tony what?" he chimed in.

"Nat needs advice," Wanda explained.

"Oh god, I can have my lawyer here in 15 minutes. Wanda, call Y/N to let her know that Nat is in safe hands," Tony teased.

"Tony!" Nat exclaimed.

"What?" Tony asked, looking confused.

"Why is the first thing you assume when I ask for help that I'm in some sort of legal trouble?" Nat retorted.

"Because I had to bail you out for getting into a bar fight," Tony replied nonchalantly.

"I was in the bar fight protecting you and your slick mouth, but that isn't important right now. This is serious," Nat countered.

"Right, right, sorry. So, what was the advice you needed?" Tony asked, now serious.

"I think Y/N and I are heading down the path of divorce," Nat confessed.

"You think?" Wanda asked, her brow furrowing.

"No, I know," Nat corrected.

"Okay, so what did you do wrong?" Tony inquired.

"Why do you always assume I'm the one messing up and doing something wrong?" Nat questioned.

"Because Y/N is a literal angel," Wanda interjected, and Tony added, "Just a guess. So, spill the beans. Just between us girls, what did you do wrong?"

Tony earned a side-eye from Wanda and Nat.

"Don't worry about him, continue," Wanda said, brushing off Tony's comment.

Nat sighed. "Last night, Y/N and I got into an argument outside the bar and another when we got home," she admitted. "From what I know, I've spent too much time with Maria for Y/N's liking. I'm not home enough, and at some point in the argument, I may have said something that hurt Y/N deeply."

"You did what?"

"I may have said something hurtful unintentionally. We were outside of the bar, and I asked her if she could tell if Carol was just her friend or someone who wanted to sleep with her."

"Nat—"

"I know, it was stupid. I said it without thinking, and I didn't realize how much my words hurt her last night."

"Well, this is a lot worse than I expected."

"It's not just that. I think Y/N might believe that I either cheated on her with Maria or that I am currently cheating."

"Well, are you?" Tony asked.

"No, Tony, I am not cheating on Y/N, nor do I plan on it. But she doesn't believe me."

"So let me get this straight—you and Y/N got into an argument last night because you're never home and you're always out with Maria. You said something hurtful, and now she might think that you're cheating on her?"

"Yeah, that's about right. I forgot to mention the part where if I don't fix things soon, Y/N said I could marry Maria."

"You're screwed."

"Tony, stop it."

"What do you want me to lie and say everything is going to be fine? Nat's marriage is hanging on the thinnest line I have ever seen."

"I know it's on a thin line, and I want to fix it before it's too late. I came here for your advice and opinions, not to be judged."

"Well, I've never been through this situation. I think you're a workaholic, and you're so busy that you forget that Y/N is a person too, not just someone that you just met or started dating. She's your wife, and she needs to feel loved, valued, and cherished," Wanda remarked, to which Nat nodded before turning her attention to Tony.

"How did you fix things with Pepper?"

"Well, we have had our fair share of disagreements, but I'd have to say communication. You can be mad at each other, but you can't fix the problem if you don't know what the other is mad about," Tony shared.

"I tried walking in Pepper's shoes for the day, and it wasn't easy. She manages a lot of things for me, including press conferences. She helps in the lab, and when she and Wanda are taking turns, she helps cook dinner and clean up around the entire tower," Tony continued with a sigh.

"The point I'm trying to make is, don't get so mad easily and understand things from Y/N's point of view. Try and make her day easier. If she cooks breakfast, you wash the dishes. If she washes and dries the clothes, you fold them and put them up. If she's having a bad day, go out and get her favorite snacks or comfort food. Show her that you really care. It's 50/50, not 95/5 percent. Y/N is a good one; don't lose her by being stupid. It's the bare minimum," Tony concluded.

"Where do I start?"

"You can start by taking some time off work and showing Y/N that you really care. What's something that Y/N really likes?"

"She's not really a fan of really public things that are in crowded places or expensive gifts. She likes more thoughtful gifts that took time and effort."

"Maybe you can clean up the apartment, reorganize some things."

"The apartment is always clean. Y/N doesn't even like shoes going past the carpet."

"Maybe you can make her something."

"What if I cook her dinner?"

"You want to cook?" Tony asked, surprised.

"Yes, why?"

"The last time you tried to cook, you almost set the kitchen on fire."

"I didn't know what I was doing back then, but if it makes Y/N happy, I'll do anything."

"What's Y/N's favorite food?" Tony asked.

"She likes shrimp alfredo and homemade garlic toast. That's one of her favorites," Nat replied.

"Okay, shrimp alfredo and toast. What's your plan after dinner?" Wanda inquired.

"To try and get her to talk to me and hope it doesn't turn into an argument. Maybe I can get her some of her favorite things from the store to lighten her mood," Nat explained.

"It's a good start. It's getting late; we should get to the store and make dinner before Y/N gets off work," Wanda suggested.

"Y/N has a job?" Nat asked, surprised.

"Yes, you didn't know? She said she was tired of being in the house by herself all day," Wanda revealed, making Nat reflect on how close Y/N and Wanda had become.

"Well, we should get going," Wanda said after noticing Nat's silence.

"We should head out. Thank you, Tony," Nat said, acknowledging Tony before leaving the kitchen with Wanda.

"Yeah, yeah, go fix things with Y/N before I tell Fury you're breaking her heart," Tony teased as Nat and Wanda walked out of the kitchen.

#fixing us part 3 #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x you #g!p natasha #oneshot #angst #avengers

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comicaurora · 11 months

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Are you willing to make a long personal post about how Math should be presented in an educational environment or in general conversation trying to convince the other participants about its daily usage. How it can advance a person’s problem-solving skills and approach in life.

I’m really good in Mathematics. I’ve given help for my classmates and friends about Math when they are having trouble or ask for it. But I have never been convinced of its importance outside of the classroom, outside of the test papers that gives me the variables to substitute in the given equation of that test of the day.

How can Math and it’s many properties relate back to everyday life in a casual manner?

Hm. Well, as someone who hasn't had to solve an antiderivative in years, my perspective on this is that the most important and widely-applicable skill math can teach you is the stuff behind the math - mostly the muscle-memory you get from proofs.

Math is, at its core, puzzles and logic and pattern-recognition. You learn a set of tools, you practice those tools on a set of simple problems until you get a feel for them, you are presented with a bigger problem, you recall which tools best applied to problems that are shaped like this, you break the problem down using your tools and eventually reduce it to something you know how to solve.

The fact of the matter is, the tools that are specific to branches of math don't really have much widespread use outside pure mathematics, and unless you go out of your way to keep using them you're likely to lose track of them. Studying math is not going to turn you into a super-calculator-wizard who can bounce stuff off the walls at perfect angles and do six-figure arithmetic in seconds, and I think some people feel overwhelmed at the assumption that that's what's expected of them if they learn math, and some other people feel cheated when they learn that that's absolutely not going to happen, because most writers don't know math and when they tell stories with math in them their best guess is it makes you a wizard.

I think the most advanced math I've used lately was trigonometry, and that was just because I was curious about how fast my plane was traveling relative to the sun's apparent movement at my latitude. We were flying back to the US from Iceland and we'd taken off at sunset, and we had been in that sunset for at least an hour by the time I got curious how the math worked out and started estimating our latitude, the circumference of the slice of the earth at that latitude, and correspondingly how fast we were flying vs how fast it was spinning to complete a full rotation in 24 hours. But even if the math involved didn't tap into any of the higher-level stuff I'd learned post-trig, those years doing proofs and figuring out which tools applied to which geometry meant that I could use the tools and my training applying those tools to calculate what I wanted to know, and confirm that our plane was actually outflying the sun when we were at iceland latitude, but as we curved south the sun's apparent relative movement (aka the rotational speed of that latitude of the earth) slowly accelerated until we were falling behind, landing right as the sun finally set. The math involved was high school level, but if I'd been given that problem in high school it would've taken more work and more stress to figure out how the tools I had needed to be applied to the problem I was facing. The years of practice I had tackling much more complicated proofs made the diagnostic process much faster.

I saw someone once analogize studying math to lifting weights. Where am I going to use this in real life? How often will I really be faced with two dumbbells that need to be lifted in three sets of twenty? Where am I going to apply the skill of holding a heavy thing straight out to one side of my body?

You don't lift weights because lifting weights is such a valuable and widely-applicable skillset, you do it because lifting weights makes you better at lifting everything.

You don't study math because math is going to fill your daily life with concepts that you need to prove true for 1 and for n+1 given true for n, or complex solids that you need to sum an approximate volume for, or a surplus of sunset plane flights that demand you calculate a bunch of cosines. You study math because it is the skillset of making things make sense. It trains you to break a huge, incomprehensible problem down into a series of small problems you already know how to solve. It lets you reach true and correct conclusions by starting from facts and transforming them through operations that preserve truth, and correspondingly that if you reach a false conclusion from these methods, then either the methods are flawed or the initial assumption is not as true as you believed. It teaches you to put two and two together and be confident, once you've double-checked your work, that you can say four.

This is stuff I use all the time in both my video research and my freeform writing. Building out a slow picture of how a story was told or changed over time involves finding the context it was created in, and reverse-engineering what parts of that context could have produced what standout portions of the story - what authorial or cultural bias results in this standout story element. Worldbuilding where I take two wildly disparate parts of the world, put them together and see what web of implications springs out of combining them, following the threads to new and interesting concepts that follow from what I've already established. Building a character arc by breaking down exactly what events are happening to them and what transformation each component will apply to the underlying character. If I want the story to go in a certain direction, what transformations do I need to apply to make that happen while still preserving truth? If I'm faced with a seemingly insurmountable problem, what methods can I use to break it down into bite-sized pieces?

This isn't something I think about most of the time. It's just how my brain works at this point, and I can't promise it'd work for anyone else. But thanks to all my years of hard work and training, my brain has been buff enough to solve every problem I've tangled with since graduation, and that feels pretty good.

#asks #not aurora

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annwrites · 1 month

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ain't about to take any risks

— pairing: shane walsh x fem!reader

— type: ficlet

— summary: the group debates what is to be done with randall. shane is the only one interested in your opinion. dale is sure you'll agree with him.

— tags: thinking back on past moments with shane, conversing

— tw: mentions of sex, mentions of rape, debating murder

— word count: 1,687

— a/n: in this version of events, shane & andrea have never had sex. & while i think her feelings toward him only really manifested after that afternoon in the front seat of his car, i've implied in this that she has a thing for him anyway.

Shane looks at you then. “Y/N-baby, been awful quiet. Like to hear your thoughts on it.”

Dale speaks before you can. Not that you want to. You don’t entirely like being made the sudden center-of-attention to begin with anyway.

“Well, obviously she agrees with me. She’d never advocate for cold-blooded murder like this.” He looks at you. “Right?”

You shift from one foot to the other. You look at Daryl then. “You’ve spent more time with him in the barn than most of us. What, exactly, has he said to you?”

Daryl glances from you, to Dale, to Shane, then to the floor. “Told me this one story, ‘bout the guys he was with. How this one night they came across this camp—a dad and his two daughters. ‘Real cute-like’ was how he described ‘em. Said the other guys took turns, made the dad watch. That they didn’t even bother to kill ‘em after. ‘Course he told me that ‘he isn’t like that’. It was just somethin’ in the way he talked about it. Like…I don’t know. Like he got off on it, or somethin’. Made me wanna put an arrow through his skull.”

Your stomach turns. You’re quiet for a moment, glancing to Shane, then you look at Dale. “I understand his standing by as witness. I’m sure if he’d so much as tried to stop them, they would’ve killed him. It was self-preservation. He’d be dead and…they still would’ve done it anyway. But to talk about it in the manner Daryl described…” You shake your head, crossing your arms. “To describe those girls like that…it’s clear what kind of man he is. If he’d shown any amount of remorse, I’d feel differently. So I agree with Shane.”

Shane gives you a small smile, standing up a bit straighter.

Dale looks absolutely flabbergasted. “I can’t believe I’m getting out-voted over something so…so-”

Shane cuts him off, shifting his weight from one hip to the other. When he speaks, he keeps his eyes on you all the while. “If I ever saw that bastard near her,” he nods his head in your direction. “I’d drop ‘em several times over. I ain’t about to take any risks over the woman I…”

He pauses for just a moment. The two of you had said it a handful of times so far. And only after the first time you’d had sex. That warm, perfect day far away from the farmhouse. Far from the rest of the camp.

He’d taken your virginity, just like he’d offered to, and in that moment, with him sheathed inside of you, whispering sweet nothings against your ear as he made love to you so painstakingly slowly…something shifted. And the both of you could no longer deny that something more—some invisible bond—was binding the two of you. Had been all along since he saved you from staying back at the quarry.

But the two of you had agreed to keep your new, blossoming relationship just between you. To keep moments of true, physical intimacy either in his tent, or in that field you returned to time and again to feel your bare skin upon one another.

You didn’t need to risk someone sticking their nose in your business and trying to come between you—trying to ruin what you’d just found; just formed, and were slowly building.

You’d both lost enough. You weren’t about to lose one another, too. Especially after Shane had put forward so much effort in saving you over and over again. In taking care of, and protecting, and providing for you without asking for anything in return, but for you to finally try and live. For him, if nothing else.

You both knew people in the camp suspected.

Shane was gradually, as time went on, trying less and less to hide it. He’d give you a quick kiss on the cheek or top of your head here or there, whisper something in your ear—both of you pulling away from the other laughing—or giving each other lustful looks, heat pooling between your thighs as he told you the things he’d been thinking about doing to you all day. Or, you’d serve him lunch, him even once pulling you into his lap when it was late and half your people were gathered around the campfire chatting or eating.

Lori had cornered you one day in the kitchen about it. You’d just finished helping Maggie tend to the garden—pulling weeds and harvesting the fruits and vegetables that were ready to be eaten—and were washing off, and cutting up, and preserving when she’d come inside, seeking you out.

She’d asked Maggie if she would please give the two of you a moment alone, which she had of course obliged.

And then she’d asked if something were going on between you and Shane, and what it was, exactly, at that.

You’d remained quiet for a moment, setting some tomatoes in a bowl to begin drying off before you’d simply shrugged and said how you didn’t see it being anyone’s business but yours and his.

She gently grabbed your arm, turning you around toward her, the look on her face one of pure concern. “Honey, I don’t think you understand the kind of man he is. What he’s done, and-”

You’d promptly crossed your arms over your chest. “We’ve talked at length about the things he’s done. And even if none of them had anything to do with me, I still granted him my forgiveness when he asked me for it, because it was that important to him that he have it.”

She’d been left speechless for a moment. Long enough that you’d turned back around to begin scrubbing the potatoes of the dirt and soil they were covered in.

“Y/N, you’re young. And Shane is…he knows what he’s doing. He’s been with plenty of women before. Whereas you’ve-”

“Like you?”

She had shut her mouth instantly. “If you think this is jealousy, it isn’t. I’m just trying to look out for you; trying to prevent him from taking advantage of your youth, or your vulnerability. You don’t have anyone left to do that for you anymore.”

“Except him. He’s the only one who bothered to save me time and again when all I wanted—more than anything—was to give up and die. He refused to let that happen. I wouldn’t be standing here listening to someone else lecture me on how they know better than I do without him.” You’d turned back around then, bowl of tomatoes held between your arms. “I need to get these to Patricia, excuse me.”

Just as you were nearly out of the kitchen, you threw over your shoulder “Feel free to help if you have nothing better to do.”

You and Lori hadn’t spoken since that day. You had thought, after, that perhaps you’d been too harsh. You knew where her concern primarily stemmed from: the night in the library at the CDC. When Shane told you about it…you’d remained silent for a long while after, unsure of what to do. What to say. You felt afraid of him, even for a moment. The fact he could even think to do such a thing…to anyone—it didn’t matter that she had jilted him or not. It was inexcusable.

When you had looked at him, he’d been staring at you, his eyes red, and he’d told you he understood if you wanted him to stay away from you from now on. That maybe it was true: you deserved better.

You’d told him you didn’t want that, but that that action…it wasn’t for you to forgive. He’d nodded, understanding what you meant. He’d promised he would never hurt you like that, no matter what the future held.

You believed him.

Even Andrea had seemed a bit…jealous when she saw Shane so close to you nearly all the time now. Whenever he was in camp—he refused to let you go on runs unless it was with him, which typically translated to finding an abandoned house so you had a proper bed to have sex in—he was almost always pressed up against your side, his hands on your hips, your lower back, cupping your cheek, gripping your chin… A few times his hand had been high on your thigh, sometimes nearly touching you there—his way of silently asking to be alone with you for awhile.

She’d given you the cold shoulder for a couple days after she had once asked Shane if he wanted to go on a run and he had told her he didn’t intend to go out that day, but had then loaded you into his Hyundai later that afternoon, slipping a few small square wrappers into his pocket, adjusting himself over his pants, before climbing into the driver’s side and taking off from the farm like a bat out of hell.

Shane sighs for a moment, glancing down to his boots, then back up to you, silently asking for permission to finally give them all the truth you’re sure half of them are already well-aware of you.

You give him a small smile.

He continues. “I ain’t about to take any risks over the woman I love. I’ve almost lost her three times already. I ain’t about to let there be a fourth. I’ll put a bullet in his chest before that ever even comes close to happenin’. You can all bet your damn lives on that.”

You hear someone scoff, and you’re sure it’s Andrea, but you don’t care. Let them think what they wish. You were growing tired of people like Lori and Hershel treating Shane—someone who had kept the group alive and for so long—like the devil.

She had taken him for granted. Tossed him aside like he’d never mattered in the first place when Rick came back to her. You understood her reuniting with her previously-thought-dead husband, but to act like Shane had never been of any importance to start with? After all he’d done for her and Carl? After tearing himself apart, thinking his best friend was dead for all that time?

You wouldn’t be making that same mistake.

#fic: twd (shane walsh x reader)#shane walsh x y/n #shane walsh x reader #shane walsh imagine #twd x y/n #twd x you #twd x reader

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sparrowrye · 1 month

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Demi Demon || Alastor x Reader, A3 part 4

Synopsis: Alastor disappeared for 8 years, leaving you confused, crushed, and angry. You spent those years building up your new self and protecting the haven from dangers left and right. What will happen when he returns to the new changes? Will he return anytime soon? Could you even go back to the way things were?

Previous part

Part 4: new things

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"We have several trackers on some of the trucks," Vox explained, gesturing to the wall of televisions. Some were stand stills of city road entrances, others seemed to be on someone, and others were obviously underneath a car.

"You couldn't have told me this over the phone?" I questioned. I was adorned in my dark maroon outfit again. My Dragon Demon persona was shining through like gold.

"You're a distrustful person. Figured I'd have to show you in person," he answered, glancing over at me, "besides, it's not like you visit very often."

"I have no reason to," I shrugged.

"What exactly is your plan?"

"Follow them to their factory. Then destroy it."

"Why don't you just interrogate one of them?" he questioned. I had been texting him specific instructions to not intervene with any of the drivers. "The workers keep mentioning two specific names: Azrael and Esdras. Maybe they're at the head of this operation now."

"Are you tracking their route or just their location?" I inquired, ignoring his suggestion.

"Both."

"I want all the trucks to go back to the factory to get new shipments. Then let them send out again."

"Why?" He sounded disgusted at the idea.

"Anyone can carry on Blackwater's legacy if they slip through the cracks. You don't have the location of all the trucks. Destroy the factory and not the workers and they start up again a decade later."

"So just let them get their re-supply and give more of those devices out?" He crossed his arms and faced me. The workers in the room had their headsets on and were listening to possible conversations through the cameras.

"No. That's where you'll come into play." I slid my hands in my pockets and leaned my weight on one leg. "When the trucks get to the factory, make sure each and every one of them has a tracker. Follow each truck well away from the factory before taking it. Then wait a few days in case there's another wave of trucks and do the same. Kill the workers as they come out of the hive."

Vox hummed and glanced up at his screens. "Once we have taken all the trucks, then what?"

"I sink the factory."

"What about all the machines still out there?"

"You get them as you find them. Shouldn't be a problem in your territory with all the cameras."

"I've got a lot of land now," he said smugly.

"Not my problem." I shrugged.

"Oof, cold hearted per usual." He made a fake pained gesture over his chest. I made no comment. "You ought to get out of that haven more. Relax a little."

"With you?" I questioned with a sideways glance.

"That's certainly an option." He took a step closer.

"You forget I'm soul bonded." This wasn't the first time Vox had tried to poorly flirt with me or encourage me to leave my haven for anything other than business. I could feel Alastor's hot eyes watching through mine.

"To a soul who abandoned you."

I rolled my eyes, head turned away. "He'll return."

"Maybe not for another fifty, sixty, or a hundred years. You should get out and explore. Experience more of the world."

"I don't think Alastor would be too happy if I were to go out drinking with an enemy in his absence."

"We've already got a deal together. What's wrong with a little drink?"

I turned and lowered my head so my eyes casted up in a glare.

"You."

The pained look was exactly what I was hoping to see. His recover was quick, though, as were his movements as he stepped into my personal space.

"If you can manage to be with Alastor of all Demons, you'll find me more susceptible." The static of his screen was making the hair on my neck and arms stand up.

I brought my tail up to push him away by his chest. "Like Alastor, I'm afraid I don't reciprocate the feelings."

"You're unlike Alastor in a lot of ways," he pressed.

"Good thing he and I compliment each other then."

"You seem awfully defensive about a killer Demon who abandoned you without a word for eight years. And so suddenly too."

I didn't comment. My smile was a half smile and my hands were still in my pockets. Vox had terrible timing for himself. I could feel Alastor melting with my own shadow, ready to pounce.

"Has he returned?" Vox asked. My expression must've given it away because his smile came back full force. "Finally returning after all the hard work is done?" He sounded excited.

He stepped in my personal space again but when I put my tail up, a thick wire snaked out of the wall and wrenched it to the floor. My eyes darkened as I bared my teeth in a snarl, claws ready to cut wires and scratch screens.

"Tell me, dear, how's it feel to know that all your hard work will be for nothing?" He went on, "No one will challenge your haven now that he's back and defending it. You won't need our deal anymore but you're still bound to it. You might even be forgotten as news picks up on his return," he reached a blue claw towards my face, "after all, who can trump the Radio Demon?"

"Not you." Alastor's contrasting red claws gripped his blue wrist before he could touch me. Vox's eyes widened as did his smile.

"Good to see you back Alastor," Vox greeted him as Alastor roughly shoved his hand away. I yanked my tail out of the cord's hold.

"I'm disappointed in you, old friend." He placed his cane on the floor and examined his other claw. The workers had noticed his arrival and turned in their chairs. "Attempting to attract my soulmate in my absence? How ill will of you."

"Says the one who left them without a word."

"My reasoning is none of your concern and all of ours."

Ours. It sounded strange coming from him.

"If you came here to nix our deal, I'm afraid that's out of the question."

"I'm not." He stepped directly in between us, back to me. "I'm here to remind you she may be bound by your deal, but I am not."

Vox scoffed. "If you attack me then she'll have to fight you."

"There's always a backdoor to every deal." He took a step closer. "And I'm great at exploiting them." He backed away and placed a claw on my shoulder. "Do enjoy the deal while it lasts. It won't be for long."

His magic and shadows surrounded me as he teleported us out of the station.

****

I started cooking dinner early while Alastor made his first broadcast in eight years. I had texted Vivian to keep Nym and Thatcher a little bit longer after school and to keep the radio off. Nearly every building had a radio.

Only a select few in the haven were given phones as a means of fast communication. Access to the internet was granted via our library or Internet rooms -- secluded rooms in a single building with several computers and phones.

My deal with Vox was to keep his stations safe from attacks so long as he promoted us in a positive way and never came into, listened in on, or observed the haven through his technology. This allowed anyone to access the internet safely from home.

Putting the wooden spoon down, I looked out the kitchen window at the empty ocean. I moved from the stove to lean on the rim of the sink. My claws tapped the metal carefully.

"So much is going to happen again," I whispered.

The first day of Alastor's return hadn't even finished yet. We 'made up', he met the children, Charlie showed him the town, he and Vox antagonized each other, and he was making his first broadcast in years.

I was truly starting to believe he wasn't a hallucination as I heard the muffle of his voice through the floorboards. He felt like a missing puzzle piece fitting back into my life but not so smoothly, almost as if I was second guessing if that piece actually fit in there or was just the right size and shape.

I wanted to cry.

I let out a loud grunt and went back to the stove. I had been wanting to cry since Alastor and I made up. Things weren't back to normal and probably won't be for a long time. I was still so angry, so hurt, and still confused. Just because he didn't leave on purpose didn't negate the fact that he still left me alone. I was someone different, someone new. Would he still care about me once he actually got to know the new me? He was clearly already upset with me about the children.

You're soulmates, I reminded myself.

Dinner was a simple mixed gumbo recipe I often used when I didn't have anything planned or when I needed to feed a lot of mouths. I wanted to have everyone sit down and have dinner together, hopefully to clear up confusion and negative feelings, but Reagan and Lucas already had plans and I wasn't going to attempt to encourage Alastor to talk with the two younger ones yet.

Speaking of which, the two of them came bolting in the front door. Thatcher ran right for my legs to avoid his sister who was carrying something cupped in her hands. Her love for nature wasn't shared with her younger brother who hid at the first sign of something with more than four legs.

I wrapped my tail around Nym's front to keep her away from him. She didn't fight me hard but was laughing and taunting Thatcher from the safe distance. I bore with it for only a minute or two before instructing her to let the poor creature loose and wash her hands.

Alastor remained in his office for a long time. I ate dinner with the two kids, listening to their chatter about school and the drama that came with it. It didn't get interesting until they mentioned one of the male teachers spending the after school hours in Ms. Vivian's room chatting with her. I would poke my friend for more information the next time we saw each other.

I procrastinated seeing Alastor. I hadn't changed his room much, really at all, since he disappeared, but I had gone through his office a few times and accidentally rearranged his bookshelves. So I washed the bowls, pot, and utensils as slow as I could.

Maybe a peace offering.

I went into the freezer and pulled out a tightly wrapped package. I unwrapped the meat and broke small pieces off, stirring them in a single bowl of the gumbo and using magic to make it hot again. Since Alastor disappeared, I had to hunt and harvest my own meat. It kept the strain and pain at bay but every now and then I would experience horrible withdrawal symptoms from a lack of his blood. It wasn't until three years later that I was able to go months without the horrible withdrawal, so long as I consistently had some other kind of blood, typically of a Demon.

Was Alastor's body the same as when he left or did it also suffer the wraths of time? Would he crave blood of some kind soon? Regardless of the answer, I needed to do something nice for him.

So, with unsteady feet, I climbed the creaky staircase to his--our--bedroom. I heard shuffling from his office and stopped early, gently knocking on the wood door. I waited only a moment before he opened it, red eyes glowing in the dark ambiance of the upstairs hallway. I needed to put more lights up here.

"I brought you some dinner," I offered the bowl. His toothy smile didn't change as he stepped aside to let me in. He closed the door behind me, my ears picking up on the click of the lock, and took the warm bowl from my hands. His claws brushed against mine as he did and I clasped them behind my back.

The smell of smoke and cedar wood was finally returning to the room. It had lost his scent after the first few months.

"Something wrong, my dear?" He placed the bowl on his desk and motioned for the single chair by the fireplace. He sat in his desk chair as I took the empty one and wrapped my tail around my ankles.

"No. Should there be?"

"You seem anxious." He sounded so nonchalant as he crossed his legs, elegant as ever, and examined the contents of the dish.

"Perhaps awkward is a better term."

"How so?" His expression gave away nothing as he began eating the meal.

"Are you upset with me?" I asked instead.

His pause was short. "There's a lot I'm currently managing."

"Such as?"

His eyes flicked up to mine. "Am I being interrogated?"

"What? No--I'm just...I'm curious."

"About?"

Why is this so difficult? I inwardly groaned.

"I'm worried about your thoughts on the house and on the children."

"I am not a fan of children. That you are aware of."

"I know that and..." I glanced down at my claws. His intense stare was difficult to meet. "I won't leave them or kick them out of the house."

"That was expected."

I fell silent. What was the point of me coming up here? I was getting nowhere with him.

"I will not do anything to them, if that is your concern," he added.

"I didn't think you would," I said quickly, "but...I don't know. I'm sorry."

"You have done nothing wrong."

Why was he being so nonchalant with me? Usually there was some kindof emotion poking through when we interacted. It felt like his eyes never left me. I never once saw him looking elsewhere.

"I didn't change much with the house," I tried next.

"I noticed. Though you seem to have spent a lot of time in my office."

"I'm sorry."

"I was not looking for an apology."

His contrasting personalities were confusing me. I noticed dials moving on his motherboard. Maybe he operated much like me in having different personalities for different aspects of his life. Maybe he was still in Alastor the Radio Demon persona.

"I read a lot of your books," I said.

"And made your own abstracts."

"I was supposed to remove them from the books before you came back."

"What for?"

"I know you said that's something you enjoy doing. So I didn't want to take that away from you."

"I enjoy reading your handwriting. Though I must admit," he licked his yellow teeth from the meal, "it looks like chicken scratch."

I crossed my arms and leaned back in the seat. "I never wrote anything until you disappeared. We didn't exactly need to write in the fighting rings." My face was hot with embarrassment. I shouldn't have come up here.

"Indeed. Maybe cursive would do you better."

"I struggle to understand your handwriting."

"Practice makes perfect." He placed the empty bowl on his desk.

"I guess." I crossed my legs and picked at the tips of my claws.

Silence hung over our heads for awhile. To my surprise, I felt myself actually relaxing in it rather than feeling more awkward.

Master of silence, I thought to myself.

I heard the patter of footsteps as Nym and Thatcher came looking for me. On weekend nights they often went to play with friends or spend the night in their homes.

"Well, I should go see what they need." I stood and took the bowl from his desk, his eyes following my every move. "They probably want to go see—" he caught my wrist "—their...friends..."

His grip was firm but kind. I could faintly smell his sweet, cedar wood scent. His back had come off the back of his chair and lips covered his sharp teeth.

My face was warm.

A single claw rubbed along my wrist.

My chest felt tight.

And my lips were dry. Too dry.

My tongue darted out to wet them, daring a fleeting glance at his lips.

He noticed.

I hadn't even realized his other arm had moved until his claw found the back of the my head. He pressed and pulled, bringing me closer and causing me to bump knees as I shifted my weight.

His scent was so overwhelming it made my nose pinch. He gently pressed his warm lips against mine in a soft kiss. My eyes closed as I leaned my weight forward a little more. I loved the feeling of his claws threading through my hair.

It had been so long since I last felt someone touch my hair like that.

I hadn't realized until now just how touch starved I had been, how much I craved his gentle touch. There was danger in those claws but they were kind and careful on me, never daring to do me harm again.

Maybe things would be okay. I thought to myself as I leaned my weight on the armrest of his chair and pressed harder into the kiss.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author's Note:

I'm so excited for this act! It's time for all the sweet (and smutty) things to happen. I promise the goods are coming ;)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist:

@wendigonamecaller @saccharine-nectarine @thesimpybitch @papas-ghoulette @masochist-downfall

#demi demon #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #soulmate au #soulmates #reqs open

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zmbiesuga · 1 year

Text

I'VE LOVED EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU THAT HURTS

matsukawa issei x m!reader (pronouns aren't mentioned but the intention is still there), established relationship

warnings: angst, really poor body image on mattsuns part including negative mentions of weight, hurt/comfort, cussing, use of pet names (baby, honey, pretty boy), matsukawa is referred to as mattsun and issei, the friends mentioned are not the seijoh four

notes: i projected a bit oops

mattsun had lost track of time. all he knew was that the light illuminating from his laptop hurt his bloodshot eyes, and if the soft sounds from it weren't the only thing keeping him sane, he would slam it shut in a heartbeat.

he doesn't know how he ended up in this position, really. he's not typically a sensitive guy, he's normally nonchalant, laid back. he walks the world like nothing can hurt him.

but then he thinks about what his friends said.

it was playful, at first. little jabs at his personality that he could rebuttal with ease. teasing them about their flaws, adamant on avoiding striking any nerves.

he just wished they would be as careful as him.

what got to him first, was the mention of his eyebrows. how they were too thick, that they didn't match his face.

which then led to the conversation about his jawline, how it was too triangular, too uneven.

and even though those comments hurt, he took them and bit his tongue. for his own sake. just shake it off, he thought, they're just joking stop being such a fucking baby

it was fine, really.

until they started talking about his weight. how he was too skinny, too tall, too boney. how almost nauseating it was that they could see how his ribs poked through his skin.

yeah, that's what got him.

from practice to home was a blur to him, but he remembers how he stormed to his room. how he sat in his own silence for a moment or so, before his body racked with violent sobs.

he cried. he cried until there was no more air in his lungs, until the sobs got caught in his throat. he gripped his hair and broke down for what felt like an eternity.

and even now, hours later, the thought of everything that happened makes him want to start sobbing again.

but he can't. the lump in his throat sticks there, not daring to move.

he really thinks he's fucking pathetic. to let such words get to him, he knows he shouldn't care. he knows they meant no harm. he knows they were just jokes. he knows he's not that bad looking.

right?

well, he guesses there must be some truth to their words if they poked and prodded at it. he guesses there's some truth if he's allowing himself to be this affected by it.

he doesn't hear you softly open the door to his bedroom.

you had grown worried, you tried to contact him over dozens of times within the past few hours, only to be left on delivered.

at first you were mad, you figured he was just ignoring you for makki or something unimportant, but once oikawa had told you that issei had left the gym in a sulk, you had just grown to be worried.

you slowly made your way towards him, the soft blue glow of his laptop being the only source of light in the room.

when you tripped over his sneakers is when he finally noticed you.

slowly, he turned from his laptop to face you. the cacoon of his blanket covering most of him. that's when you finally got a good look at his face.

his eyes were bloodshot, and his tears from earlier left stains of trails down his cheeks. the dried snot under his nose, his tussled hair and cracked lips showing his distress.

god, you swear, even like this he looks so beautiful.

"issei, baby, what's wrong?" you question, crouching down next to his bed. you reach your hand out, lightly stroking his face.

tears slowly begin to fall from his eyes again. you wipe them away gently with his thumbs.

the gesture alone sends him into another fit of sobs, you wrap your arms around him, rubbing circles on his back as you let him weep into the crook of your neck.

"i can't fucking . . . i'm so pathetic i'm sorry . . ." he blubbers, god he can't believe himself right now.

"nonono baby you aren't pathetic, you're allowed to cry. you're allowed to be upset," you reassure him, "take your time. i'm not going anywhere."

you two stay like that for a few minutes, issei composes himself the best to his ability, before sitting up and letting what happened fall from his lips in a hurry.

your face contorts in anger as he continues, not with him, of course. you couldn't believe what he was saying, what kind of friends were these people?

once he finished, you allowed yourself to speak.

"issei," you began, "what they said about you was absolutely ridiculous."

at first he's taken aback by your words, but then you continue,

"you are one of the most gorgeous boys i have ever laid my eyes on," you said, "your eyebrows aren't too thick, they fit your face perfectly. your jawline is perfect too, and even if it is asymmetrical, most peoples are. it's not uncommon and it certainly does not make you ugly."

you take a deep breath, cupping his hands in yours. giving him a reassuring squeeze before picking up again once more,

"and as for your weight," you began, "i just . . . the fact that they even felt the need to comment on that disgusts me. there is nothing wrong with your weight, as long as you are healthy that's all that matters. whether you be on the bigger or smaller side, as long as you are healthy that's all that should matter. ever. don't listen to the utter bullshit they spew because it's not true. you're a beautiful boy, you're my beautiful boy."

he starts crying again, but this time out of a warm feeling bursting in his chest. he pulls you in for a tight embrace, and you squeeze him just as hard.

"i love you so much." are the only words he's able to mutter before he falls asleep on your shoulders.

you then softly close the lid to his laptop, crawling under the covers with him and placing a kiss on his forehead.

sleep well, pretty boy. is all you can think before drifting off yourself

a/n: i just want to remind you guys that you are beautiful no matter what and you deserve good things. likes, reblogs & comments are appreciated!

#haikyuu #matsukawa x reader #matsukawa x male reader #haikyuu x male reader #mattsun x reader #mattsun x male reader #matsukawa angst #matsukawa hurt/comfort #haikyuu x reader #matsukawa issei x reader #matsukawa x you #matsukawa imagines #matsukawa oneshot #love letters from leo #my dearest haikyuu

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ghostinthelibrarywrites · 1 year

Note

7 for Geraskier? 💕

7. "I used to compare your attention span to a goldfish, but I've since then learned that you are much, much worse."

Geralt does nothing to hide his amusement as Jaskier slinks out of the alderwoman’s house, looking like a puppy that just got scolded for making a mess of the carpet. In this case, it seems the carpet is the alderwoman’s pride, judging by the shouting Geralt can hear from inside the house.

“What did you do this time?” Geralt asks.

Jaskier glares at him. “The good thing is we have until nightfall to get out of town before I get put in the stocks.”

“Huh, guess you didn’t fuck her sister then.”

“Nothing so sordid.” Jaskier sniffs disdainfully, as if doing just that to a baroness isn’t the reason they got kicked out of the last town where they stopped. “I may have misremembered an important piece of information.”

“What’s that?”

The shutters of the windows above them fly open. The alderwoman leans out, pink-cheeked with rage. “You forgot these, Jaspar,” she snarls before dropping the shredded tatters of what were once Jaskier’s hose to the ground. Looking triumphant, she slams the shutters again.

“Ah, well.” Jaskier looks down at the hose. “Those were only my third-favorite pair.”

Geralt arches an eyebrow as Jaskier retrieves the pieces. “You called her the wrong name, didn’t you?”

“Perhaps. But in my defense, Cordelia and Camille are very similar names.”

“They really aren’t.” Geralt shakes his head. “You spent three days in her bed.”

“Yes, but she only introduced herself once and I was rather distracted at the time. You saw her.” Jaskier casts a wistful glance over his shoulder.

Geralt claps a hand on his back and steers him away. “You know, I used to compare your attention span to a goldfish.”

“That’s uncalled for.”

“I’ve since learned you’re much, much worse.”

Jaskier huffs. “I pay attention to the things that are important, Geralt!”

“Like what?”

“Like music! And art! And…other important things!”

Geralt snorts. “Come on, let’s get Roach. You get to explain to her why she doesn’t get to sleep in a warm, dry stable for another night.”

***

Despite the anger coursing through him, Geralt is gentle as he sets Jaskier down on his bedroll. “You fucking idiot.”

Jaskier’s eyes are glassy and unseeing as he stares straight ahead. His chest rises and falls rapidly with his panicked breathing. “This is temporary, right? Please tell me it’s temporary.”

“Yes,” Geralt grits out. “It’s temporary. Which you would know if you were paying attention earlier. You clearly fucking weren’t, because then you would have heard me when I told you not to get within range of the grave hag’s tongue.”

“I was—”

“If you say distracted—”

“You looked very fetching in the sunset! I was inspired. I had to write a few verses down.”

Geralt is suddenly very glad that Jaskier is blinded so he can’t see Geralt’s gobsmacked expression. “You nearly got yourself killed because you were inspired?”

“They’re very good verses, if I do say so myself.”

“You…” Geralt shakes his head. “You fucking goldfish.”

He stalks away, as much to get a cloth to clean up the mud and blood on Jaskier’s face as to put some distance between them.

***

“Jaskier,” Geralt says. “Remember when I told you that I always put on weight in the winter?”

Jaskier gnaws on his thumb nail. “Perhaps.”

“And remember when I told you that if you were going to force me to wear an outfit for the Countess’ wedding, you should account for that?”

“Are you sure you had that conversation with me? Could it have been another bard?”

Geralt gestures at himself. He’s crammed into a doublet and breeches so skin-tight that he’ll probably rip them if he takes too large of a step or tries to lift his arms above his head. “What the fuck is this?”

Jaskier smiles. “If it helps, your legs look amazing.”

“It doesn’t.” Geralt tries to fold his arms over his chest, then thinks better of it when the doublet makes an alarming tearing noise. “What the fuck were you distracted by this time?”

“I’d rather not say.”

Geralt snorts. “I’m not wearing this.”

“Geralt, do you know how much I spent on that?”

“Then you should have fucking sized it properly.” Geralt turns away.

“Oh,” Jaskier says in the tone that tells Geralt the bard is definitely checking out his ass. “I think I got the measurements perfect.”

***

Geralt keeps a hand pressed to his side as he lowers himself onto the bed. His skin crawls with the effect of too many potions. Even the single candle in the room seems blazing; he has to squint his eyes against the light. “Jaskier—”

“Here.” Jaskier shoves two bottles into his hand before Geralt can force the words out. Geralt looks down at them and sees Swallow and Golden Oriole. He remembers explaining the different witcher potions, what they did, and how to recognize them to Jaskier years ago, not expecting the flighty bard to remember much.

Geralt closes his eyes and downs both potions. When he opens them, he finds Jaskier has snuffled the candle, plunging the room into darkness.

“You remembered,” Geralt says as Jaskier settles down on the bed next to him, the familiarity of his presence soothing.

“I told you, love.” Jaskier drops a kiss on his cheek. “I always pay attention to the important things.”

***

Tag list: @kueble @mollymawkwrites @feral-jaskier @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde @dawnofbards @thisislisa @tsukiwolf42 @mosaicscale @rockysstupidity @fontegagrilledcheese @kuripon @help-i-need-a-cool-username @julek @flowercrown-bard @eveljerome

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #prompt fills #ghost's writing

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visceravalentines · 2 years

Text

Fireworks

Dad's Best Friend!Dilf!Bo Sinclair x AFAB!Reader

3k words Part 2 here!

Smut for days, fluff for weeks. Age gap, dad's best friend, oral, dirty talk, praise, creampie, reader is referred to as darlin' and baby girl and pretty.

Yeah yeah, today's the 4th of July, cheesy title, whatever. THIS IS THE MOST FUN I'VE HAD IN A WHILE. In fact I loved living in this little tableau I've created so much I'm planning a sequel?? Fuck dude, I am down so stupid bad for this dumb idiot man.

Tagging a few people who I think might enjoy this as much as I did. @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better, @slutforguts, @brandnewhuman, @fluffy-little-demon

If there was one thing your parents did right every time, it was their big summer bash.

Every year, when the temperature really started to ramp up, they invited the whole neighborhood over for barbecue, drinks, ice cream, and yard games. Their backyard pool was filled with kids bobbing like apples. There was often a waterslide, a water balloon toss, and sometimes fireworks once it got dark.

You had missed it the last few years, busy with summer semester at school. This year, however, you found yourself longing for a familiar setting and comfortable traditions. Even the incessant questions from neighbors you barely remembered would be worth the opportunity to be somewhere stable. Your parents, of course, were delighted, and swiftly roped you in to helping plan the menu, buy food and supplies, and set up the morning of the big day.

Wearing a new bikini underneath a band tee, you helped your mom arrange watermelon slices on a large platter, nestled soda and beer into coolers full of ice, and walked up and down the deck steps innumerable times carrying everything outside.

Although the party didn’t officially start until noon, people always began trickling in early, especially people close with your folks. The Swensons next door with their four boys arrived at 10:30. Two women from your mom’s book club arrived around 11. And when you made yet another trip down the deck stairs, you saw your dad on a ladder hanging decorations with the help of a tall, sandy-haired man you immediately recognized.

“Hey Dad, Mom wants to know if you want the stuff for the grill outside now or if you want to wait.” The man looked over his shoulder with a curious expression on his handsome face. “Hi, Mr. Sinclair.”

He broke into a grin. “Y/N, is that you? I’ll be damned.”

“It’s me.” You smiled sheepishly. His Southern accent had been the source of much conversation between you and your high school friends. You’d even dated some asshole from Mississippi for a while just to hear that honey-sweet drawl.

Mr. Sinclair handed your dad the other end of the banner he was hanging and turned to you. Were you imagining his ice-blue eyes flicking down to your bare legs and back up to your face? “You look good, darlin’. How’s college?”

Oh, you had forgotten that. How had you forgotten the way he called you darlin’? “Can’t complain,” you said. “I’ll graduate in another year.”

“Y’got big plans after that?” God, those eyes. Had they always been so piercing? You felt seen in a way that was intense, but not unpleasant.

“Not really. I’m waiting to see what opportunities open up, I guess.”

“Well, you’re a smart one, you’ll figure it out.”

Your mom yelled your name from the back door. You excused yourself and walked across the patio. The weight of a stare on your ass was tangible.

Just before you reached the deck stairs, you turned and looked back. He did not even try to hide the fact that yes, he had indeed been checking you out seconds before. His gaze swept up to your face at the most leisurely pace possible and he flashed you a subtle smirk. You felt the heat of a blush and tried not to race up the stairs.

The backyard filled up quickly as people began to arrive. Music wafted from the speakers mounted beneath the deck. The shriek of neighborhood kids and the splashing of pool water rounded out the suburbia soundtrack.

You answered the same questions over and over from friendly neighbors, helped your mom stave off several low-stakes emergencies, finally managed to extricate yourself from all party business long enough to shed your t-shirt and slip into the pool.

The shallow end was for splash fights. The deep end was for the older crowd. The water was cool but not cold, washing the sweat from your skin as you let yourself sink all the way down to the bottom. The muffling of sound and the sensation of even pressure on your skin helped you relax, clear your mind, until all that was left was the thought of a mechanic’s rough hands.

You had bet on a lot of things, coming home for this event. Mr. Sinclair’s killer jawline was not one of them.

In one burst, you launched yourself back up to the surface. Wiping the water from your eyes and nose, you kicked to the wall, hauled yourself up and out of the pool. As you toweled off your face and arms, you scanned the crowd. Sure enough, you found him, barely a participant in the conversation at hand, gaze locked on you as he drained the dregs from his beer bottle.

He was going to need another, wasn’t he? You were sort of the host of this party too, right?

You wrapped the towel around your hips and snagged two beers from a cooler. You pretended you couldn’t quite hear Mrs. Swenson flagging you down and made a beeline for the tall man breaking away from the conversation.

“Hey, Mr. Sinclair,” you said, darting in front of him. The way he lit up upon seeing you made your stomach flip. “I grabbed you a beer.”

“Well ain’t you the sweetest thing.” He accepted the bottle from you and this time, there was no mistaking the way his eyes drank in your exposed skin. “Call me Bo, darlin’.” He took a swig. You tried and failed at not staring at his lips. “You enjoyin’ yourself?”

“Yeah, it’s good to be back. Summer on campus is boring.”

“Can’t help but notice you didn’t bring anyone home with you.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Yeah…not a lot of luck in that department.”

He grinned at you. “What, a pretty thing like you? Now that’s a cryin’ shame.”

“Oh, believe me, there has been crying.”

His smile cooled, just a little. “Any o’ them kids hurt your feelings, darlin’, you give me a call. I’ll teach ‘em a lesson for you.”

Something told you he wasn’t joking. “Well, if you ever come across Bradley from Gulfport, you have my permission to kick his ass.”

He laughed. “Duly noted. What did Bradley from Gulfport have goin’ for him?”

You pinched your tongue between your teeth. “…a Southern accent.”

The smile this triggered sent a heatwave rolling beneath your skin. “That’s all it takes, huh?” You bit your lip and could not look at him. “You gotta watch out for those Southern boys, there’s only two kinds. They’re either gentlemen or scoundrels, every one of ‘em.”

You boosted your courage with a mouthful of beer. “Which one are you, Bo?”

He studied you for a long time before answering. “The kind who doesn’t want your daddy noticin’ the way I’m lookin’ at his daughter.”

You were wet, and it was not from the pool.

Clearing your throat, you said, “I think I’m…going to go change. Probably not getting back in the water.”

He nodded once. “Fair enough.”

You took two steps before adding, “I’ll be upstairs, if you need anything.” Again, shocked at your own brazenness, it took everything in you not to run up the steps.

The house was cold and quiet. You made your way down the hall, hung the towel over the shower curtain rod, nudged your bedroom door almost completely closed. Slowly, you undid your bikini, practically tingling with anticipation. Would he actually follow you up here? What if he did? You took your sweet time picking out a pair of underwear and a new t-shirt. You held off on the shorts and the bra. How long should you wait before you went back out there?

Just as you were about to give up and pull on the rest of your clothes, there came a soft rap on the door. You took hold of the handle and opened it just a little further, peeking into the hallway.

There stood Bo Sinclair, bold as brass, looking somehow both smug and earnest. “I missed you,” he said.

You reached out, grabbed his hand, tugged him into your bedroom and shut the door. With fluid grace, he spun you around, pushed you against the door, set his hands lightly on your waist. You were breathing hard already. “D’you want this, darlin’?” he whispered.

You nodded. “Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

He tilted your chin up with his thumb, kissed you with those lips. He tasted like beer and cigarettes and some indescribable sweetness. Your hands found his chest, still broad and muscular, and he felt hot beneath the fabric of his shirt. He broke the kiss, met your eyes, then kissed you again, deeper this time, his tongue playing at the edge of your teeth. A soft moan rose to your lips.

He pulled away again, looked at you seriously. “If you want me to stop, I’ll stop,” he said.

You shook your head. “No. I want more.” Your hand slid down his front, palmed at him through his jeans.

He cocked his head, a smile creeping across his face. “You’re a little minx, ain’t you.” He thrust his hips against you, pushed his knee in between your thighs. “Lemme show you a good time, baby girl.” He kissed down your neck, into the hollow of your throat, his fingertips brushing the skin just underneath the hem of your shirt. You arched your back, pressing against him, still caught up in a measure of disbelief that this was actually happening.

Bo took your hands and pulled you toward your bed. It was a full, barely bigger than a twin, hopefully big enough for two – you’d never tried it before. He sat on the edge, guided you onto his lap with your legs wrapped around his waist, showered you with kisses while he ran his hands over your legs, your ass.

You took hold of his shirt, worked it up his torso and off of him. His shoulders were dusted with freckles, soft blonde hair on his chest. His eyes gleamed. “Fair is fair, darlin’.”

You stripped off your own shirt, tossed it to the floor. Bo muttered an expletive under his breath. He traced his thumb over your nipple and it hardened instantly, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core. “You’re too pretty, baby,” he murmured. “I wanna wreck you.”

Wrapping your arms around him, you pulled yourself against his body, kissed his collarbones, his shoulders. You could feel him getting hard underneath you and you rolled your hips experimentally once, twice. He made a delightful sound in his throat, his grip tightening on your love handles.

“Let me worship you, darlin’,” he said against your temple.

“Please,” you breathed.

He twisted, laid you down on the bed, kissed you sweetly and then wandered his mouth down your body, little by little, until his fingers were tucked in the waistband of your underwear and his breath was warm on your lower stomach. His baby blue eyes, alight with mischief, locked on yours.

“Now, you gotta be quiet. Wouldn’t wanna get you in trouble.”

You nodded quickly, the blanket already balled up in your fists.

Bo eased your panties down your thighs slowly. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to steady your breathing, and when his tongue first slipped through your lips you let out an involuntary ohh.

“Ah-ah, what did I say?” You could hear the grin in his voice. “Be good for me or I might have to give you a spankin’, and it won’t be like the kind your daddy used to give you.”

You writhed. You disheveled the sheets. You bit your lip hard as he worked you over, sucking your clit, teasing your entrance. These were not the bewildered ministrations of a reluctant frat boy. This man was indeed worshipping you and doing it well, and the pleasure building steadily deep inside you was enough to make you want to scream.

Finally, when you truly could not take it anymore, you choked out his name, grabbed at his hair. He looked up, licked you off his lips, kissed the inside of your thigh. “What d’you need, baby girl?”

“I-I….”

“God, you look good.” He crept up the length of your body, cradled your head to bring your lips up to his. “Such a mess for me.”

You ran your hands through his chest hair. “Bo,” you whimpered.

“Yes, darlin’?”

“I need you.”

“You need me where?”

“I need you…to fuck me…please?”

He exhaled sharply. “You are hellbent on gettin’ me in trouble, ain’t you.” He trailed a finger down your breastbone. “Teasin’ me with that beautiful body…askin’ me so nicely.”

“Please, Bo.”

He pressed his lips to your forehead, nuzzled your ear. “Has anyone ever made you cum in this bed?” he whispered.

“No,” you whispered back.

“Mmm.” He cupped your breast, squeezed firmly. “I bet you’d look mighty fine on top of me.” He slipped away from you, pulled off his jeans and boxers. You made room for him on the bed, straddled his hips, eyeing his length. He folded his arms above his head and stretched languidly. “Take it slow, darlin’. I like the view.”

You rubbed yourself against him, your already-sensitive clit dangerously tender. The two of you moaned in concert, the friction between you intoxicating. He felt good between your folds, beneath your hands, his stomach firm under a cushion of fat. You canted your hips in a steady rhythm until he was slick with your arousal. With his tip at your entrance, you pressed down carefully, not quite enough to push him into you, and smiled at him, held him there.

“Wicked,” he scolded. “You bet your ass I’ll remember this for next time.”

“Next time?”

“Oh, there will most assuredly be a next time.”

This lit up your insides more than you expected and you lowered yourself onto him all the way in one smooth motion. You gasped. He groaned. His hands left their place on the pillow to take hold of your hips. He rocked you back and forth at an easy pace and you felt him flex inside you.

“Oh, Bo.”

“Quit.” He slapped the side of your ass. “My stamina ain’t what it used to be and if you throw that in the mix we are in for a short ride.”

You giggled, leaned back for a better angle, and sighed contentedly. When you opened your eyes, you found him staring at you with open admiration. Bending over his chest, you kissed him deeply, your skin alight with his touch. You rode him methodically for what could have been hours, hands on your breasts, biting back the little sounds he drew out of you.

At last he took your jaw in his hand, commanded your attention. “Now, darlin’. You’re gonna cum for me hard and you’re gonna look me in the eyes while you do it. Y’understand?”

Your breath caught in your throat. “Yes sir.”

He gave you a look. “I’m gonna remember that for next time too.”

He took a firm grasp on your thighs, adjusted his hips, and began to thrust into you with unexpected force. Your mouth fell open in an O and your eyes rolled back in your head. “Look at me, darlin’, look at me.” You refocused, teeth pinning your lip, his expression positively sinful. You felt yourself begin to come apart and clawed at his chest. “That’s it, baby, so pretty.”

You couldn’t keep back the whine bubbling up in your lungs any longer, keening helplessly, whole body a mass of snapping nerves. His long, soft lashes fluttered as he finished inside you with a low grunt, clenching your flesh hard enough to leave marks.

Panting, you sank onto his shoulder and he wove his arms around you. “You did so well for me,” he mumbled, kissing your brow. “Such a sweet thing.”

You curled into his side while he stroked your back, traced the lines your nails left in his skin. “You know…I’ve never….”

He grew immediately serious. “You’ve never what?”

“I’ve never had sex in this bed at all.”

Bo huffed out a sigh of relief. “Jesus Christ, Y/N, you’re gonna give an old fuck like me a heart attack.”

You giggled. “Sorry.”

“I can’t be goin’ around deflowerin’ young women, they’d kill me in the streets.” He gave you a tender kiss. “Probably kill me for this anyway.”

“Too bad, I’ll miss you.”

He gave your ass an affectionate smack. “Speakin’ of missin’, we’d both better get back out there before they send a search party.”

“When can I see you again?”

“In about five minutes when you put your clothes back on and get out there and pretend like you weren’t just fucked stupid by your daddy’s best friend.”

“That is not what I meant.”

“Oh, what’d y’mean?”

“When can I see you again like this?” You ran your thumb along his jaw.

“Well, how long are you in town for?”

“The rest of the summer.”

He let out a low whistle. “Is that so? Y’know, I’ve been meanin’ to hire some help at the shop. How ‘bout I pay you and let you fuck me?”

“Would that be weird?”

“You tell me, baby girl.”

“Nah, I don’t think so.”

“Well then I don’t neither.” He kissed you one last time. “Consider yourself hired. Great interview. Put your clothes on.”

You socked his ribs and wiggled away. He watched you dress and you slipped out of the room, sneaking back to the party well before he did. No one seemed to have noticed either of your absence, and you managed to play it cool for the rest of the afternoon.

When the sun fell at last and the streetlights turned on, everyone congregated on the front lawn for a fireworks show. Your dad always went for the ones that were technically illegal and to this day no one gave him grief about it.

With everyone’s eyes on the sky, you sidled up beside Bo, standing behind the crowd near the house. You didn’t dare take his hand, but you leaned against his arm, and a smile appeared on his lips, and that was enough.

#bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair fanfiction #dilf bo sinclair #slasher x reader #my writing #bo sinclair

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still-a-morosexual-help · 1 year

Note

hello hello!

I wanted to hear your opinion on this daily chat i recently got:

Part-timer Mammon 1 & 2 on the 'The Brothers and the demon lord' group they have.

if you remember, it was about Mammon being a popular waiter at the cafe he worked at and then in part 2, they say he was fired because a customer picked a fight with him, it turned into a brawl, and the whole cafe was trashed. If this was any other brother, i would have been like anger issues. what else is new.

but it's Mammon. he rarely gets that angry, right? i'm thinking what did the customer say to make him go apeshit like that?

or is Mammon gentle only with his family + MC and just throws around his weight otherwise in devildom?

I just. can't picture him getting so angry that he loses a job that he was actually enjoying and making money out of.

what do you think?

have a good day/evening✨

Hi! I've spoken about this briefly before but I'll go into more detail here,

Mammon does have more care with his close family and friends - that's something that could be expected from anyone.

He does have more of a cool and collected persona that he adopts in front of outsiders, specially when it's for official work, but even that isn't cruel (post)

• But he doesn't actually throw his weight around with others either - if he did, being the second most powerful sin, he wouldn't have as many debt collectors and witches after his ass. They feel secure enough to curse him because they know he wouldn't retaliate. They wouldn't pull that shit with someone like Lucifer, or hell even Asmo

Also:

• Levi says that he goes to Mammon for advice on how to interact with people because Mammon is social and thinks about other people as well (whereas Asmo is social and, even by his own admittance, selfish) (post)

• When MC says that Mammon has always been kind Levi agrees with them

• When a demon who was pissed off at Mammon tries to get back at him by trapping him in a pit, Mammon gives said demon a stone he recieved for his birthday, that was supposed to make wishes come true, after wishing for that demon to have better fortune (post)

So all that points to the fact that even with those he doesn't consider family and close friends, Mammon is typically friendly and kind - even when it's not warranted

So that means that the customers said or did something that he pissed him the fuck off

So far the only times we've seen him pissed off like that is when:

1.) It had something to do with Lucifer

eg:

(a.) In that one devilgram where Asmo, Beel & Satan are badmouthing the older brothers. They say the usual shit about Mammon and we know for a fact that Mammon doesn't react with anger to that - usually he tries to defend himself and if it cuts deeper than usual he leaves/runs away. This time around though they link Mammon's "uselessness" to Lucifer and say that Lucifer's favourism of Mammon is making them lose respect in Lucifer himself. After this the three older brothers confront them. It's probably the first time we see Mammon get so pissed off he transforms. And considering how much Mammon loves and respects Lucifer it makes sense that this is what set him off (post 1) , (post 2)

(b.) In Nightbringer when Belphie is continously arguing with Lucifer in front of Diavolo, Mammon tells him to stop before he gets pissed off as well, which Belphie instantly listens to

2.) It had something to do with MC

eg:

(a.) The second time we see Mammon pissed off enough to transform it's in a devilgram where he thinks Levi & MC slept together

(b.) In a chat where some creep hits on MC (post)

3.) It has something to do with Michael

eg:

(a.) So far when Michael's brought up Mammon becomes unusually cruel or serious. The first time we see this is when Luke continously brings him up on the train ride in S3

(b.) The second time is when instantly blames Michael for Simeon losing his powers in S4, despite no one else bringing Michael up in the conversation (post 1) , (post 2) , (post 3)

4.) We also see him get pissed off in Nightbringer when he and his brothers are treated badly and differently by the civilians in the Devildom for once being angels, basically when the civilians are just being really racist to them (post)

The common theme in the two incidents with Lucifer is disrespect that goes beyond the usual more playful disrespect the brothers have towards Lucifer, while the common theme for MC is sex.

At the cafe, since it's probably not anything to do with Michael, it's probably something to do with someone being racist to his brothers (I've spoken about how "fallen angel" seems to be a slur and we've seen some demons like Mephisto use it), someone being sexually inappropriate about MC or someone being disrespectful to Lucifer. Something that pissed him off enough that for once he fought back

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manari-archives · 11 months

Text

emails i can't send fwd: masterlist

note: some of the stories are not inspired by the entire song and only a couple of lines or verses.

001. emails i can't send | CS55

It's times like these, wish I had a time machine So I could see what you did And thanks to you I, I can't love right I get nice guys and villainize them

002. Vicious | CS55

You're lucky I'm a private person I've quietly carried your burden, and Everyone thinks you're an angel But, shit, I would probably use different wordin'

003. Read your Mind | MV1

To think that we could be casual You're not my friend And, baby, you never were Why the fuss if you say you just wanna be mine?

004. Tornado Warnings | LH44

I'll drive you home ,You drive me crazy But that's not gonna stop me I'll call you out, You call me "baby"

005. because i liked a boy | GR63

Tell me who I am, guess I don't have a choice All because I liked a boy You said I'm too late to be your first love, but I'll always be your favorite

006. Already Over | MS47

We been talkin' for hours 'bout how we shouldn't talk for hours on end Kissing after a conversation 'bout how we'd probably be better off as friends

007. how many things | LS18

I wonder how many things you think about before you get to me I wonder how many things you wanna do you think I'm in-between I feel myself falling further down your priorities And I still make excuses for you constantly

008. bet u wanna | DR3

When you don't have control of who I'm holdin' Is it feeding all your fears? Bet you miss me, bet you're reminiscin' I bet you hate the way that you said goodbye

009. Nonsense | MS47

You said you like my eyes and you like to make 'em roll Treat me like a queen, now you got me feelin' thrown, oh I think I got an ex, but I forgot him

010. Fast Times | LN4

Couple days in, I call you "baby" Three stories up here contemplatin' But what the fuck is patience Give me a second to forget I ever really meant it

011. skinny dipping | DR3

But both of us, we'll be thinking about how different we are From those scared little kids that had those Arguments in your garage All the ways we sabotaged it What it was and what it wasn't

012. Bad for Business | LH44

We look good in photographs, I like the way you like to laugh At dirty jokes, I know they'll always land Used to get to work on time, but now you're taking up my nights Never been so glad to be so tired

013. decode | MV1

There's a weight off my shoulders now that I don't chase you Being myself, did that emasculate you? Learning from you that I can walk away too

014. opposite | CL16

Oh so you do have a type? And it's not me Oh so you can reply? Just to not me So y'all are in Paris now? Guess it's public Face like that other girl,You're in love with

015. Feather | CL16

Your signals are mixed, You act like a bitch You fit every stereotype, "Send a pic" I got you blocked, Excited to never talk I'm so sorry for your loss

016. Lonesome | GR63

If I fall in love with all my problems, will they leave me too? Well maybe I believed in all your lies, 'cause I believed in you Why were you somewhere else when you were next to me? I know, you know, it keeps me up

017. things i wish you said | LN4

When I saw you cry, I didn't handle it well Without you here I don't know what to do with myself I hope you know it scared me to death The night that your sister said that you got in an accident

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wosomarvel · 6 months

Text

communication - 06

a/n: i'm pretending there are no more injuries! manifesting i guess. i'm so sorry this took so long. the end of the semester was really tough for me but i have the next three weeks off, so i will try my best to get a few more updates out. i'm thinking two or three more parts until this series is over.

warnings: this episode talks (briefly and not in detail) about depression, anxiety, and shitty parents. it's not too bad, though. more hurt/comfort than angst. even then, bordering more on the comfort side.

i am going to once again reiterate that the schedule of games does not follow real life. i'm going based on vibes and vibes alone.

-----

"sim, we need you to settle something for us."

sim's heart dropped at the sight in front of her: mary and millie, both in their training kits, arms crossed with no hints of a smile on either of their faces.

"whatever it is, i'm sure someone else could-"

"it has to be you, because you're the most impartial person here right now," millie cut sim off.

"and we trust you to be honest," mary added.

sim's face contorted with confusion.

"who would win in a fight? me," mary gestured with her hands towards her own body, "or millie?"

"nope!" sim replied to the question. "i refuse to get involved."

sim knew better than to definitively answer any sort of question like that. no matter who she picked, she would pay for it in the form of relentless teasing or tickling.

her eyes darted around the meal room, looking for a savior to come to her rescue. she gulped almost comically when she saw there the few people around were otherwise occupied.

"it's alright, darling, you can admit that i would absolutely wreck mearps here. as vice-captain, i'll make sure she can't attack you for it."

as tempting as millie's offer was, sim was almost certain that millie could only protect her for so long.

"how about i ask the fans?" sim prompted.

now it was their turn to look confused.

"i'll put a poll up on the instagram or something," sim added, pulling her phone out of her pocket.

"see, this is why it was a genius move to hire you. smart, she is," millie praised.

a blush took over sim's face as she fiddled with the phone she'd just pulled out of her pocket.

across the meal room, leah watched on fondly as georgia and keira conversed around her. it was nice to see sim come out of her shell a bit more around the team. though leah still had the distinct feeling that it would be a while before the younger girl felt comfortable being vulnerable around them, it still brought her a sense of relief that sim was no longer so painfully shy. she actively participated in the conversations and shenanigans typical of the team.

the team had taken well to sim's steady presence, adopting her as though she was a playing member of the lionesses.

it had only been a few months since their conversation on those bleachers, but leah could already see the difference it was making. sim looked... lighter, in a sense. like the weight on her shoulders had eased. leah was starting to to see a light in sim's eyes that hadn't been there when they had first met.

"what are you lookin at?" georgia asked.

leah's lips turned up in a slight smile as she nodded her head in sim's direction. "remember how closed off she was when she first got here?"

keira shifted her gaze, smiling when her eyes settled on sim's figure filming mary and millie.

"she's fit in quite well," keira agreed.

"she's cool. she said she'd let me tattoo her once i've properly learned how," georgia added, nodding her head.

"she what?"

-----

sim sighed, settling into soft sheets. sarina had permitted her to room with alessia at st. george's park and sim had never been more grateful.

she closed her eyes, the melody of alessia's singing wafting in from the bathroom, its door left ajar. she let it ease the tiredness that had settled into her bones.

this particular camp was exhausting. she knew it wasn't her job that was draining her energy at this point. the federation had recently hired a few other people to help out in the social media department so sim was now only in charge of the instagram, twitter, and tiktok. the longer form content and brainstorming was no longer under her purview.

sim suspected leah and sarina had something to do with that. she'd been annoyed at first, but was now incredibly thankful for their interference.

despite that, sim was still feeling drained and on edge. it frustrated her that she couldn't put a reason to the way she was feeling.

the past few months had been good to her. her relationship with alessia was blooming into something beautiful. there was no pressure when alessia around, and sim was starting to become accustomed to the light and airy feeling that came with her presence.

sim had fallen into a steady routine. now that her workload with the lionesses had significantly decreased, she had a lot more time on her hands. though her pay from the lionesses hadn't gone down, sim had still taken up a casual job at arsenal as a photographer. though she'd majored in communications in uni, she had minored in visual media.

working with the lionesses was fulfilling, no doubt, but sim missed the more creative aspects of her visual media minor. alessia had proposed the idea of working with arsenal one day during an impromptu photoshoot, sim taking random photos of alessia as they spent an off day lounging at home.

jonas was used to seeing sim's face and after a quick conversation with the higher ups, sim had secured a press pass.

in the mornings, sim and alessia would meet up with beth, viv, and leah for a quick coffee before training. she'd spend the day at colney with the team, taking pictures. she had befriended laura and teyah, the two remaining members of the ACL squad. after training was done for the day, alessia would drive her home, the two spending the rest of the day together.

sim hadn't moved in with alessia, but she spent more nights at the blonde's place than her own.

once or twice a week, sim would accompany alessia to team bonding. she stayed in contact with ella.

sim was content with her life. happy, even.

the way she was feeling now, however, had her scared. scared that the feeling would linger and turn into something heavier. scared that she would slip back into old ways, having to push herself just to get out of bed in the mornings, to eat something, to want to exist.

sim didn't want to go back there. she didn't want anyone to see her like that. more importantly, she didn't want alessia or leah to see her like that. she didn't want to be a burden. the two gunners deserved better than that.

"hey, baby."

sim was broken out of her thought process by alessia's voice, followed by a quick peck to her forehead.

sim hummed in response, moving over to make space for her girlfriend on the bed. alessia set her kit and toiletries off to the side before sliding in beside sim, pulling the comforter over the two of them as the younger girl turned her back to assume the little spoon position.

sim breathed a sigh of relief as alessia's arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her close, almost cradling sim to her front. she felt some of the tension leave her body as alessia pressed a gentle kiss to her neck.

"are you alright, love?"

sim contemplated telling the truth for a moment, ultimately deciding against it. it's not even that bad. i just need to grow up, she reasoned with herself.

"yeah, just tired," sim replied.

"can you turn around for me?"

of course alessia would see right through her. it was honestly frustrating at times.

sim had always been good at lying, something she'd had to learn to survive her parents when she was younger. however, alessia could always tell when sim was lying.

not that sim made a habit of lying to her girlfriend. she just wanted to shield alessia from the darker parts of herself for as long as possible.

"love?" alessia prompted.

sim turned with a sigh, keeping her eyes closed. she would crack as soon as she made eye contact with alessia's baby blue eyes.

alessia's hand came up to sim's face, pointer finger tracing the subtle crease between her eyebrows.

"can you open those pretty eyes for me, baby?"

sim relented, never having been able to refuse a request from alessia. leah never let her forget it.

sim's eyes fluttered open, causing alessia to frown at the clear exhaustion evident in the set of her eyes. "what's wrong?"

again, sim debated whether or not to tell the truth. she had almost settled on trying to lie, but her resolve crumbled at the look of concern painted on alessia's face.

how could anyone ever lie to a face like that?

"everything just feels... heavy. it's hard to explain. it's like my entire being is just exhausted. especially my mind. there's just this weight over everything."

it was silent for a few beats. alessia's hand came to rest on the side of sim's face, her fingers gently scratching at sim's hair.

alessia considered her next words carefully. she was thankful that sim was starting to open up to her and all she wanted to do was help. to alessia, what sim was describing sounded a lot like depression, but she didn't have nearly enough information or qualifications to come to that conclusion. she also didn't want to push too far with her questions and cause sim to shut down again.

alessia settled on a question that would allow sim decide how much or how little to reveal.

"do you feel like that very often?"

"not anymore," sim whispered out, averting her eyes. "it's not that bad right now. i actually feel good most days. i still feel better than i did before the FA hired me. i'm just tired the last few days. don't know why."

though it concerned alessia that this feeling seemed to be somewhat familiar to sim, she was also happy to hear that things were okay at the moment.

"that's alright. everyone has bad days. what do you need from me right now, my love?" alessia asked, pulling sim closer, the hand that was on sim's head pulling the girl's head to her chest.

sim's eyes teared up slightly at alessia's actions. she had never felt so loved and cared for. it quieted the insecurities that plagued her mind, that constantly told her she was too much but at the same time never enough for alessia.

"i just want to be with you right now."

despite the waver in sim's voice, alessia's heart melted.

"alright, love, i've got you," alessia replied, pressing a quick kiss to sim's temple before shifting so she was on her back, sim automatically placing her head on alessia's chest, curling into her side.

sim let the warmth wash over her, grabbing a fistful of alessia's sleep shirt as she tried to snuggle closer.

"thank you," sim breathed, drowsiness starting to take over.

"you don't have to thank me. i'll always be here."

"i love you," sim said without thinking.

there was a moment of silence and sim's heart dropped.

of course, she just had to go and fuck this up too. they hadn't said it yet. why did you have to go and ruin the moment? she thought to herself.

her muscles tensed before she moved to pull away, but she was stopped by alessia's arms squeezing her tighter.

"i love you too," alessia said back. sim could almost hear the smile in her voice.

-----

the lionesses' next game was against spain, a world cup rematch. it went without saying that the girls were a mix of excitement and nerves. everyone dealt with it in their own way.

leah was immersed in film of barca and spain in the days leading up to the match. she remembered how helpless she had felt watching the world cup final and was determined to lead the team to a win this time around. it didn't matter to her that this was a friendly, that great britain had already qualified for the olympics.

millie could often be found beside leah, the two huddled over a tablet.

esme had created so many friendship bracelets that she had to order more thread.

katie had taken a bunch of the girls around town shopping, going to different coffee shops and trying to stay distracted.

ella had organized a mariokart tournament in one of the conference rooms for the girls that had stayed behind.

alessia was beside herself with nerves and had opted to waste away in her room under the guise of resting. sim had tried her best to assure her girlfriend, but her duties as social media admin made it difficult to get time alone with her.

sim was relieved when her latest round of meetings with the other media staff was over. she wanted nothing more than to care for alessia.

sim quietly eased the door open in case alessia actually was sleeping. when she turned after closing the door, it was to the sight of alessia sat on the bed, staring into the space above the television as it played old episodes of friends. her heart panged a little at the sight.

sim walked over to the bed, making a quick plan in her head. she knew that nothing she said was likely to make alessia feel better, so she settled on physical comfort.

alessia was shaken from her trance by the soft kiss sim placed on her temple.

"today's a hair wash day, right?" sim mumbled against alessia's skin, getting straight to the point.

"yeah, why?"

-----

twenty minutes later, sim was sat on the couch with alessia sat on the floor between her legs, the pair watching old episodes of superstore, sim's hands massaging coconut oil into the blonde's scalp.

"how did you even think to do this?" alessia mumbled.

"oiling hair is just a thing desi people do. i don't remember the exact origin. different people use different types of oil for different reasons. my maasi* used to do coconut oil before a wash once a week. in the winter, when our hair was dry and frizzy, she would rub baby oil just into the ends every now and then." (*maasi is mother's sister or cousin sister)

"yeah, but why are you doing this now?" alessia prodded. considering this was the first time she had heard sim voluntarily speak about her family, alessia didn't want to push too hard, but she was curious.

not that she was complaining. the massage was doing wonders for her headache and she was more relaxed than she had felt in weeks.

"just noticed you were stressed. obviously, i've never been in the same situation as you so i can't do much in the way of words. but i remember how relaxing this was for me so i figured i would share," sim replied somewhat sheepishly, hands stilling.

alessia was overwhelmed with affection for the younger girl. it was almost offputting how easily sim could read her, how she could anticipate what alessia needed before she herself knew what that was.

alessia reached a hand up to squeeze sim's arm, unable to vocalize how she felt in the moment.

"the massage part is almost done. then we need to let the oil sit for at least a half hour, and i'll wash it out for you."

the pair fell silent, no words needed between them. when it was time for a rinse, alessia sat on the ledge of the tub, leaning gently on sim's body behind her.

"as much as i am loving this right now, i'm going to have to ask you to hurry it up before i fall asleep here," alessia said, breaking the silence.

sim chuckled softly before turning on the water, using the handheld shower to rinse alessia's hair.

"thank you for this," alessia spoke, grabbing a soft towel to dry her hair off.

"you don't have to thank me," sim said shyly, a blush creeping on to her face.

alessia turned to look at sim, and the younger girl almost melted under the tenderness of alessia's gaze.

alessia knew that it was hard for sim to accept any gratitude, so settled for rushing forward and wrapping the girl up in a tight embrace, arms settling around sim's shoulders as hers wrapped around alessia's waist.

sim rested her forehead against alessia's sternum. sim's family never showed any physical affection, so it had taken her a while to get used to just how touchy her girlfriend could be, but sim would be lying if she said she didn't come to love it.

"let's head to bed, yeah? i'm going to fall asleep standing up and take you down with me. then you'll have two bad knees," alessia giggled.

"and then you'd have to carry me everywhere and we can't have that, can we? because then you'd have bad knees and leah would have my head!" sim replied with a chuckle, turning alessia's giggles into full-blown laughs.

-----

the cloud that seemed to be following sim around refused to fully recede, always lingering around the edges of sim's consciousness.

she had done a well enough job of hiding it from everyone. she'd made the effort not to push people away, but that didn't mean that she was asking for help either.

a part of her still felt ashamed and annoyed at how she was feeling. her life was the best it had ever been, so why was it so difficult for sim to just suck it up and enjoy it?

it was currently match day -1, and the lionesses were doing some light training on the pitch before they would head inside for a film session and tactics meeting.

sim was bundled up against the cold on the sidelines, filming when she needed but mostly just watching her girls work. the jealousy she felt while looking at them hadn't abated completely, but she could mostly shove it down and not let it become a problem.

"how's it going?" ella nudged sim, having made her way over after sarina concluded the training session.

"yeah, i'm alright, you?"

ella wrapped an arm around sim's shoulder, starting the walk back to the locker rooms as she chatted about something joe had said to her a few weeks ago.

alessia stole sim back from ella as the team filed into the locker room.

"hey! you get to see her everyday!" ella whined, making grabby hands as alessia steered sim towards her own cubby.

alessia simply stuck her tongue out at ella before gathering the things she needed for a shower and stepping out.

"oh! my family is all coming out for the game tomorrow, so don't run off with alessia so quick because i want you to meet them," ella said, grabbing sim's arm and setting her down on the bench in front of her own locker.

a nervous smile took over sim's face. "really?"

though the idea of meeting ella's parents was admittedly nice, it make sim more anxious than anything else.

"oh, yeah, they'll probably end up liking you more than me," ella responded jovially, trying to pull sim out of her head.

"speaking of," leah interjected, "sim, do you need tickets for any guests of yours? i can probably get them into the friends and family section."

sim immediately stiffened. she couldn't have this conversation with the team. not today, when she was already feeling so on edge.

"oh. no, i don't have anyone i'm bringing to the match," sim said, trying to make it clear with her tone that this wasn't a topic she was willing to elaborate on.

unfortunately, it seemed no one got the hint.

"what, parents couldn't make it?" millie chimed in.

"nah, they're not around anymore," sim said with a sigh, trying to brush it off with a wave of her hand.

however, it seemed to have the opposite effect. there were a few silent moments of tension before rachel's voice cut through.

"i'm really sorry to hear that."

sim's brow furrowed in confusion before she realized how her statement sounded.

"oh! no, don't be. i'm pretty sure they're still alive, we just don't... we're estranged. we don't talk anymore," sim rushed to clarify. the last thing she wanted at the moment was sympathy. especially when it came to her parents because the truth was, she was much, much better off without them in her life.

there was still a lingering tension in the locker room, though the air had lightened considerably. this was the most the lionesses had heard sim say about her family. even leah didn't quite know what to say. she settled for taking a seat beside sim, whose face still donned the same look of confusion.

she didn't understand why this seemed such a big deal.

"you don't want to reach out? mend things?" rachel continued quietly.

"trust me, it's better for everyone if we stay very far away from each other," sim said with a chuckle.

she cut herself off when she realized no one was laughing with her.

"you can't know that for sure. you should consider extending an olive branch, while you still can." rachel had turned to face sim properly now, almost a pleading note in her voice.

sim's back straightened, hands clenched into fists in her lap.

she took a deep, grounding breath before speaking. "look, i'm telling you, my parents and i do not talk anymore and it's for good reason. i don't owe anyone an explanation. please, drop it."

leah didn't think she had ever heard that level of iciness in sim's tone. she looked at sim, biting her lip as she did. it was like looking at the face of a different person. sim's face was completely blank, not a trace of emotion to be seen.

leah didn't say anything, figuring that rachel would respect the younger girl's wishes and stop pushing.

that didn't seem to be the case.

"i just don't see what could have happened that you're okay with never speaking to your parents again." rachel's voice had taken on an accusatory tone.

millie placed a hand on rachel's shoulder, trying to signal to her best friend that she should stop before things got too heated.

before leah could say something herself to defuse the tension, sim stood abruptly.

"rachel, i respect where you're coming from. really, i do. but i'm starting to get very frustrated with this conversation, so i'm going to leave before i say something i regret."

with that, sim left the locker room, the rest of the girls stunned into silence, only the sounds of sim's cane hitting the floor being heard.

"well, i think that is the politest way i've ever heard someone say 'fuck off,'" said millie.

leah stood to go after sim, but beth beat her to it. "i'll go," she whispered. leah nodded before rounding on rachel.

rachel looked like a fish out of water with the way her mouth opened and closed, searching for words.

"i know your heart was in the right place, but you pushed too hard. just be gentler next time, yeah?" leah asserted, her voice stern but not unkind.

"i'm sorry, i just-"

"it's okay. it's not me that you should apologize to. and don't take her reaction personally, alright? i don't even think alessia knows the full story about her parents."

-----

alessia walked back to her cubby, running a hand through the tangles in her damp hair. by the time she was pulling on a hoodie, she noticed a few things.

for one, her girlfriend was not where she had left her.

secondly, the few stragglers still in the locker room had their eyes trained on her, but averted them when she returned their gazes.

tooney was also stood awkwardly in the space around alessia's cubby, as though waiting for her.

"what?" alessia spoke with a frown, looking to ella when everyone else refused to meet her eyes.

"well..." ella's voice trailed off. she wasn't quite sure how to explain the situation without framing it like an argument and blowing it out of proportion. she did not want to be caught up in the middle of the awkward tension that now permeated the space.

"what?" alessia repeated, her voice now stern.

"look," ella said, holding a placating hand up to alessia, "it's not bad. there was just a conversation about sim inviting her parents and things got a little... tense? but everyone is fine, and beth went to look for sim."

confusion was replaced with concern and a little bit of anger.

"a conversation with who? where is she? is she alright?" alessia rushed out.

"you should hear it from her. i don't know where she is, but beth went to look for her, so it's okay. don't worry. it wasn't a big deal."

that was the thing, though. alessia wasn't sure that it wasn't a big deal.

sim's parents had come up in conversation a few times, but the most sim had ever let on was that they were no longer in contact.

it wasn't for lack of trying. however, the few times alessia had tried to venture further and pushed, sim had shut down, going almost completely silent and stony-faced. each time, it took hours to bring the girl back out of her shell.

the fact that sim wasn't feeling herself recently didn't do anything to ease the concern she was feeling.

with those memories in mind, alessia rushed out of the locker room to find sim and beth herself.

-----

beth looked everywhere for sim. she checked back on the training pitch, in the bathroom, the meal room, the media office, before finding her figure sat in a corner of one of the physio rooms.

beth's heart melted at the expression on sim's face. it was clear from the tightness in sim's jaw and shoulders that she was trying hard to keep her emotions in check.

sim was so caught up in whatever was going on in her head that she didn't notice beth's presence until she felt a hand settle on her clenched fist, forcing it open.

beth frowned at the indents in sim's palm from where her nails had dug into the skin.

"i'm sorry," sim rasped.

"what for? you didn't do anything wrong. i actually think you handled that in a very mature way."

beth's words seemed to fall on deaf ears as sim continued rambling.

"i'm not angry with rachel. i promise, i'm not."

beth shook sim's hand, prompting her to look up. "even if you were angry, you're allowed to feel that way. clearly, she pushed you on a topic that was sensitive for you," beth said gently, almost as though she was explaining something to a child.

"but she didn't know she was pushing. rachel didn't do anything wrong either. i can see where her reaction came from. she lost her father, and i know that he meant a lot to her. she would probably do anything for a little more time with him. i just-" sim ran her free hand through her already messy hair.

beth stayed silent, prodding sim to go on with a nod of her head.

"it's just that not all of us got lucky with our parents. i'm happy she has a great relationship with hers, trust me, i am. but some people have shit parents, and don't want to be pushed into mending bridges that were burned for good reason."

beth noted sim's reluctance to use the word "i" instead of "us" but chose not to say anything. as far as she knew, this was the most anyone had gotten out of sim about her parents.

"her heart was in the right place, but she was still insensitive. she could have been a bit kinder to you. i lost my mum too, so i know where she's coming from, but i also know that not everyone has nice parents like mine or hers. you don't have to defend rachel to me, alright?"

sim nodded, resting her head on beth's shoulder.

"you don't have to talk about what happened with your parents, but i'm here to listen if you decide you want to. i'm sure the same goes for the rest of the girls as well," beth continued.

a comfortable silence fell over the pair. in that moment, sim was overcome with affection. she felt so seen by this new family she had found in the lionesses. unable to voice how much it meant to her, sim tried to put all that emotion into a squeeze of beth's hand.

when beth squeezed back, sim knew her message had been received.

#alessia russo #leah williamson #engwnt #lionesses #woso #ella toone #beth mead

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penmansparadise · 10 months

Text

Eddie Munson ~ The Yuletide Bluff

*I DON'T OWN THIS GIF* *CREDIT TO GIF OWNER*

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: Mild language

a/n: Well, it has definitely been a while since I've written anything. I really hope you all enjoy this, and I'm sure you will notice that I gave myself some room to either write another part or leave it where it ended. Let me know what you all think!

Sunday evenings used to be your favorite thing in the world. You loved having your family gather for dinner at your house. Your mom and aunts would be busy in the kitchen, hands at work creating a delicious meal while your uncles and dad sat in the living room watching ESPN, beers in hand. Your baby cousins would be running around squealing as they played, and your older cousins would just sit and watch before being elicited to help in the kitchen. It was totally and wonderfully normal and something you could never get enough of. That is until you started your senior year of high school.

It wasn’t bad in the beginning. Your mom and aunts would ask if you had a crush on anyone here and there, and that would be it. But the farther into your senior year you got, those innocent questions turned into badgering from every female member of your family.

“You’re graduating soon,” your aunt would say, giving you a pitiful look. “Don’t you want to begin adulthood with that special someone?”

“Your cousin Adriana has had a boyfriend since sophomore year, you know?” Another Aunt would say as if it were some sort of backhanded comment.

It was now the first week of December, nearly halfway through your senior year, and they hadn’t let up. So, when the hordes of your family began to file into your house while you were perched on one of the bar stools in your kitchen, you couldn’t help the way your molars ground down. You gave everyone a halfhearted smile and kiss on the cheek as they made their way to their usual places.

For the first hour or so, no one bothered you. You were able to comfortably sit at the bar, listening to the radio lull over the conversation filling the kitchen. It wasn’t until your cousin plopped into the seat next to yours that your bubble of solitude popped.

“Hey, Y/N,” she said, her lips curling upward into a devious grin.

You gave a tight-lipped smile.

“Adriana.”

She toyed with one of the bangles on her wrist and crossed her legs. You knew what was coming before her eyes landed back on yours.

“My mom tells me you’re still unlucky in love.”

God, you wanted to smack the smug look right off her face. But you didn’t. Instead, you fisted your hands in your lap and hummed.

“Has she now?”

Adriana sighed, “Yeah, we’re all worried about you, hon. I mean, I know not everyone can get as lucky as Carlo and me, but still.”

You knew all too well how “lucky” your cousin and her longtime boyfriend were. They had a chance meeting in the library in the 10th grade, and the rest was history. Now, you had to watch her and Carlo walk around Hawkins High like they were a teenage version of Tommy Lee and Heather Locklear.

Adriana placed a hand on your knee and gave a pout.

“I just feel terrible watching you all by yourself all the time,” she said, giving your knee a little squeeze.

Typically, you contained your emotions when faced with adversity. Usually, the constant harassment from your family about still being single didn’t get under your skin. You could brush it off. But when Adriana poked her bottom lip out in an overdramatic pout and said, “And with Christmas just around the corner, I can’t even imagine how lonely you must feel right now,” you snapped.

Your fists balled in your lap, and before you could even think of the ramifications, you blurted out, “I’m not alone. I have a boyfriend.”

It was as if a record scratched at your statement. The hustle and bustle of the house came to a screeching halt, and all eyes fell on you. The weight of your words landed on you, but it was too late. Your mom and aunts had already started swarming you, smiles spread across their faces. Their rapid-fire questions flooded your head, but you could only focus on one person: Adriana. Her brows furrowed, and her eyes narrowed as she slowly removed her hand from your leg and crossed her arms.

“Who is it?” She asked, not even trying to cover her skepticism.

Your heart was racing as you began to babble.

“Oh, um, I don’t think that’s really important.”

“I think it is,” Adriana began looking at the other women in the room. “Don’t you?”

They all agreed in unison before silencing and waiting for you to speak. You coughed.

“You probably don’t even know him, so…”

Adriana ran her tongue over the front of her teeth and began tapping her fingers against her arm.

“I don’t think that’s possible.”

You swallowed. The thought of confessing crossed your mind. You could tell everyone you were just joking, and they would just laugh and not think you were completely pathetic. But you knew that wouldn’t be the case. You dropped your gaze to your lap and sighed, seconds away from admitting defeat, when your eyes landed on the shirt you had forgotten you were wearing. The crimson red of the horned devil sitting stark against the white fabric covering your body and the telltale die of your favorite game floating next to it. You raised your eyes to meet Adriana’s again, mustered as much fake confidence as possible, put on your most believable smile, and said, “Eddie.”

His name came out more like a prayer than a statement. Your mom and aunts began cooing in your ear again, but Adriana reared back slightly, and her lips curled up into a grimace.

“Eddie?” She asked. “Like Eddie Munson? That kid you play that stupid board game with?”

The insult slapped you in the face, and you ground your teeth together again.

“First of all,” you said through gritted teeth, “DnD is not a stupid board game. Secondly, yes, that Eddie Munson.”

The squeals of excitement from behind Adriana filled the room, but you ignored them. You could tell that Adriana didn’t believe you, which didn’t surprise you. You barely knew Eddie. He had only recently taken you into Hellfire after you heard they needed a stand-in for Lucas one night and offered to do it. The two of you never hung out aside from Hellfire and lunch. You didn’t go out of your way to be around him; the same went for him. When you thought about it, you wouldn’t even really consider yourselves friends. If anything, you were acquaintances that barely said more than a few words to each other. Adriana had no reason to believe that you were dating Eddie, and she made it blatantly clear.

“How long has this been going on?” Adriana asked.

“Oh, you know,” you said, waving your hand around, “about a month or so.”

The joy that spread across your mom’s face was unmistakable, and the guilt of what you created began to claw at your stomach.

“Why haven’t you brought him home yet?” Your mom asked, taking your hands into hers.

You stared into her excited eyes and, without even a second thought, said, “I was planning on bringing him home for Christmas dinner.”

Everyone in the kitchen burst into joyous cheers. You gave them a weak smile, but all you could think was that you were going to need a bigger shovel to help dig the hole you were putting yourself into. You feigned excitement for the rest of the evening, barely getting through dinner without vomiting from the guilt and nerves wrestling in your gut. When everyone finally left, you showed yourself to your room and plopped down onto your bed, only beginning to process the shit show you just created.

The next day, you felt like you had cinder blocks tied to your ankles. You had barely been able to sleep the night before as the thought of what you said bounced around in your brain. All night you tried to think of a way to get around the situation you created, but you came up with nothing. By the time the sun started rising, it was very clear what needed to be done. You had to convince Eddie to go along with your plan.

You couldn’t focus on any of your classes as you stared at the clock, watching the seconds tick by, trying to muster up as much confidence as possible before you faced Eddie. You played a million scenarios in your head, and every one of them ended with him laughing in your face and you walking away with absolutely none of your dignity intact. The thought made you sick.

Each period passed by slower than the next until you were finally released for lunch when you reluctantly carried yourself through the halls toward the cafeteria. You knew what you had to do, and you were going to do it. You were going to ask Eddie to pretend to be your boyfriend, and it was going to be okay. At least that’s what you told yourself all the way up until you stood at the doors of the cafeteria. When you saw Eddie sitting at his usual lunch table with the rest of the Hellfire Club, all the courage you had vanished. In its place was a hollow void slowly filling with the dread of having to face the consequences of your reckless statements.

You stood in the entryway for another moment before carrying yourself to the table and sitting with the rest of the club. After giving a halfhearted wave to everyone, you retreated into your thoughts. Your mind was racing, and your stomach churned as you sat nibbling on your bottom lip. You had no idea what you were going to do. Maybe you could tell everyone Eddie wasn’t the one, and you broke up…after only one month…and so conveniently before the Christmas dinner, you said you would bring him to. You shook your head and let out a sigh just before a hand landed on your shoulder, pulling you back to reality. When you looked up and saw Eddie staring down at you, you almost choked.

“You okay?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowing just slightly.

Your mouth opened and shut a few times, but nothing came out. The cafeteria was almost empty, and the rest of the Hellfire boys had already left. You were so caught up in your panic-ridden thoughts you didn’t even hear the bell ring. When you looked back to Eddie, the concern that was etched on his face only deepened, and he shifted on his feet a little, his hand never leaving your shoulder. The warmth from his palm and coolness from the rings on his fingers seeped through your shirt as he waited patiently. Your breathing grew shallow as your anxiety swelled in your chest. Eddie’s soft brown eyes held your gaze until you finally swallowed and took a shaky breath.

“I need to talk to you,” you said, your voice tinny compared to your normal vibrato. “In private.”

Eddie’s troubled look never left his face as he removed his hand from your shoulder and used his head to motion toward the door.

“Come with me,” he said, and you didn’t waste any time, grabbing your bag and following him out the door.

When you said you needed to talk to Eddie in private, you were thinking maybe in your car or under the bleachers. What you didn’t expect was to trudge behind him as he made his way through the woods surrounding the football field. Your heart was racing, and it wasn’t only because you were unfamiliar with where Eddie was taking you. But before you had time to even dwell on your emotions, a beat-up wooden picnic table sitting by itself in the middle of a clearing came into view. It looked like something out of a horror movie. You couldn’t help but look around and make sure there wasn’t some sort of sacrificial altar Eddie was about to pin you to.

“Are you going to kill me out here?” The question fell from your lips before you could stop it.

Eddie chuckled as he made his way toward the table.

“Calm down, Y/N. I have more reason to be scared of you.”

The compliment landed somewhere in the center of your chest, but you felt it all over your body. Eddie took a seat and then motioned for you to do the same. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire as you slid onto the bench across from Eddie.

“So,” he began, folding his hands on the table, “what’s on your mind? What do you need to talk about?

Oh, don’t tell me,” his back stiffened a little, and his calm demeanor shifted. “Did that little shithead Henderson come onto you again? Because I don’t have any problem putting him in his place again.”

You reared back a little and shut your eyes, shaking your head.

“What? No, no. And trust me, if Henderson ever tried that shit again, I’d be able to handle it on my own.”

Eddie’s lips pulled upward on one side, revealing a crater of a dimple on his cheek.

“I don’t doubt that at all, Y/N.”

Your body buzzed under his stare as his words blanketed you in an electric current you were unfamiliar with. It was nice, and you found yourself wondering why this was the first time you had ever spoken to this boy alone. You shook your head.

“Anyway,” you said, swatting your thoughts away, “um, I actually have a favor to ask you.”

Eddie raised his eyebrows but didn’t say anything. You wrung your hands together in your lap, doing everything you could to avoid looking at Eddie directly. You felt like your insides were going to implode as sweat beaded on your forehead. This was a mistake. There was absolutely no way you were going to be able to do this. But when you finally brought your eyes to meet Eddie’s, that same worried look from before was planted on his face.

“Y/N, is everything okay?”

You gulped the bile that was steadily crawling up your throat and said, “I’ve gotten myself into a bit of a situation, and I need your help.”

His stare softened.

“What is it?”

You don’t know what made you say it. Maybe it was the way he looked at you like he would do anything for you; all you had to do was ask. Or the way he gave you his full and undivided attention, even though you were being so cryptic. Or maybe there was still a small part of you that thought he might sacrifice you out in the middle of those woods and so why not throw caution to the wind. Whatever it was, you rolled your shoulders back, looked Eddie Munson straight in the eye, and said, “I need you to be my fake boyfriend.”

His eyes grew to the size of saucers, and his mouth fell slightly agape. When he didn’t say anything at first, you immediately stood up and began to pace.

“I know that is a really weird favor to ask, but I’ve been dealing with my family constantly on my ass about not having a boyfriend for years now. And I didn’t care, really, I didn’t, until my stupid cousin had to get under my damn skin last night. She started going on about how she and her boyfriend Carlo are so happy and lucky and how I must feel so alone, especially with Christmas right around the corner. So, what did I do? Instead of giving her a ‘fuck you’ smile, I blurted out that I actually do have a boyfriend. And unfortunately for me, my whole family heard. They were happy, but Adriana had to start sticking her nose in my business…again and asked who it was. Well, I didn’t know what else to do or who else to say. I tried to tell her she didn’t know the guy, but she insisted, and so I just,” you paused, sucking in a deep breath and looking back at Eddie, “I said it was you, and I said that I was going to bring you home for Christmas dinner and now they’re all expecting to meet you.”

You stood across from Eddie, who was frozen in his seat. The utter surprise was plain as day on his face.

“Wow,” was all he said before the silence of the secluded woods surrounded the two of you.

You waited another moment, hoping that Eddie would say something. Anything. But he didn’t, so you continued.

“I know it’s a lot to ask, but I don’t expect you to do it for free.”

Eddie’s face went from surprised to mortified within a matter of seconds.

“What?”

You shook your head.

“Not like that. I heard you say you’re struggling in Ms. O’Donnell’s class the other day. I know you need to pass her final to graduate.”

The panic that was once present on his face vanished as you continued.

“I can help you. I’ll be your tutor for the rest of the year and make sure you pass and graduate. All I need you to do is pretend to be my boyfriend for the next few weeks, put on a good show for Christmas dinner, and then we can fake breakup and act like this whole transaction never took place.”

Eddie stared at you, his fingers idly spinning one of his many rings. You couldn’t help the way your eyes traveled down to his hands and watched, mesmerized. How had you never noticed how big his hands were? The thought sent a surge through your body, and you had to bury the unholy thoughts that started to emerge in your brain.

“I just have to pretend to date you for the rest of the month, and you’ll help me graduate?”

Your eyes flicked back up to meet his, and you nodded.

“Yes.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it,” you parroted.

Eddie sat still for a second before smacking his hands against the wooden table and slowly standing up. He rounded the table until he was standing directly in front of you. You swallowed your nerves down.

“Well?”

His lips tugged upward on one side again, putting that dimple on full display before he gave a dramatic bow. His hair fell over his face, but he still managed to look up at you through hooded eyes, sending your insides into a whirl of spasms.

“Consider me your knight in shining armor,” he said before standing back up with a flourish.

You could feel your shoulders relax as a small laugh bubbled out of you. A part of you was kicking yourself for not getting to know Eddie before now. Sure, you had always thought he was cute, but you never really gave your friendship, or lack thereof, much thought. That was until you thrust the two of you into this weird business transaction.

Your lips spread into a wide grin as you held back the urge to hug Eddie.

“Thank you so much. You won’t regret this. I promise.”

He let out a chuckle that seemed to vibrate through you.

“I wouldn’t have agreed if I thought I might regret it, Y/N. Now,” he said, rubbing his hands together, “when do we start?”

You paused for a minute, not having thought the logistics through since you didn’t even think, you would get this far. But eventually, you let out a huff, gave Eddie a nervous smile, and said, “Right after we create some ground rules.”

Then, you proceeded to dig a pen and paper out of your bag, sat down at that dilapidated table, and looked up at Eddie.

“Shall we?”

#stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things imagines #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader

63 notes · View notes

obetrolncocktails · 2 years

Text

Touch | Josh Kiszka X Plus!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Discussion of being plus sized, allusion to trauma related to being plus sized, "Fat," Minors DNI: graphic sexual content, oral (f., m. giving and receiving), unprotected sex, pullout game, finish in mouth...

Summary: You had spent so many years of your life accepting that you were fat and that you'd be alone forever. If you couldn't have a man that loved you for you, you'd do just fine alone...until Josh Kiszka walked into your life.

Word Count: 2.5K

A/N: this was refreshing to write! Especially since it's been a long time since I've written for you guys. I hope you enjoy this one!!

“Have you tried Weight Watchers? Considered exercise? Keto! I’ve heard people lose like crazy amounts of weight on that diet.”

Diet: A simple, four letter word that was the undoing of your confidence since the fifth grade. “Slow down, you’re eating like a pig,” your mother had said to you one night at the dinner table. She didn’t know how hurtful and lasting her harsh words were, but they still linger today. You still hear her words. Every time you look at social media and step out of the comfort of your home, you’d face the truth that fat people just don’t belong. You’d lived many years within the category ‘fat,’ and had a chronic habit of denying yourself the freedom of genuinely living without giving a fuck what anyone thought. And you thought you’d live that way forever, doomed to repeat the cycle. Until Josh.

And now, here he was, buried flush between your legs, eating you out the best you’d ever received a man or woman’s mouth. Ever.

Well laugh it up bitches–because he’s fucking me like there’s no tomorrow in my own bed, in my own apartment. He knows I’m fat–and he LOVES it. Except I’m wasting time feeling sorry for myself.

“Hey, hey hey,” Josh said, lifting himself off of you and propping himself up on his forearms. “You’re not here right now,” he said, reaching for your thigh to stroke the soft, supple skin. “Should we stop?” He asked carefully, his deep, chocolate eyes searching yours, pulling you from your thoughts back into the dimly lit room where you both lay naked, exposed before one another.

You shook your head no. “Please no..” You said finally. “I was just thinking…” You spoke, considering if you wanted to pause to have the conversation with him or not. He didn’t resume, but you didn’t really expect him to, either. He knew you too well and was an expert at deciphering you, no matter if you wanted him to or not. He sat up straight, sitting with his legs folded underneath him.

“Talk to me,” he asked softly. “What are you thinking about?” He reached for your hands and pulled you upright. You closed your legs and sat up with your legs crossed, debating of whether to tell him the truth. You decided to because you knew that he cared enough to listen through whatever was bothering you, and he wouldn’t jusde you for it, either.

“I’m thinking about me being fat,” you blurted, feeling the words spill from your tongue, sparing no thought to smooth over how bluntly they filled the room.

“Okay,” he said, holding out the last syllable in a matter-of-fact tone. “What about it?” He asked, unaware of the weight that the three letter word had on your tongue and brain for so many years.

Fat.

“I don’t know, I just kinda sabotaged myself, I think.” Josh reached to secure both of your hands in his. “Started thinking about all the hateful shit people have said to me and I just kinda got distracted.”

“Did I do something to make you think about those things?” He asked softly, his tone completely neutral. He hadn’t done anything, no. But he did touch you. His hands had smoothed over every inch of your body. Every roll, every divot, and imperfection was caressed, kissed, and admired by him. Even so, it took everything in you not to wince when his fingertips grazed the parts of your body you wished you could hide, conceal, chop off…

“No, you didn’t do anything,” you told him. “You touched me.”

His gaze muddied with confusion, because duh! Of course, he had touched you. “You don’t understand,” you continued. “You touched me tonight in places that I would never let anyone even look at. You touched my belly a few minutes ago and it made me start to overthink,” you explained, feeling both embarrassed and stupid. Nonetheless, you needed him to know, so you kept going. “It made me think about all of the awful things people have said to me. Done to me. Even my own mother.” You averted eye contact with him for a moment before looking back at him. “It wasn’t you, I promise. I’m sorry.”

You hadn’t noticed, but the entire time you spoke, his thumbs softly stroked the skin of your hands as he held them, silently listening to every word, watching your every move. He let silence drift through the room for a long moment before speaking again. “Y/n, you don’t ever have to apologize to me for being honest,” he assured you with understated intensity. “Never–and I’m so sorry you’ve gone through those things. I wish I could take that pain away from you, but I can’t,” he said honestly–and he was right. He couldn’t undo the years of scrutiny you’d been given.

“But I can tell you and show you how much I love your body,” he said, his eyes deepening. “I won’t touch anything that makes you feel insecure, but I want you to know. I don’t care that you’re fat. I don’t care what you weigh. I don’t care what you eat. I don’t care if you exercise. I only care that you know that you are wanted. Very, very much, might I add.” The final words came out of his mouth hungrily, and looking up at him you could see his cheeks clearly flushed with need.

You looked into his eyes, and he didn’t waver. With the depth of his gaze, you knew he was telling the truth. He wanted you in this moment, but you needed to let him in. You sat for another moment before declaring, “Then show me. Show me, Josh.” You said, opening yourself back up to him.

“May I touch you again?” He asked first, verbally requesting permission from you.

“Anywhere.”

“Anywhere?” He nodded as if to convince himself that he heard you correctly.

“Anywhere,” you affirmed, pulling him by his arm to once again take you with his mouth. And just like that, he was on top of you, his mouth on yours in a breathy kiss. His lips and tongue tasted of you, surging more warmth between your thighs as his approach intensified, his lips breaking from yours to travel down your neck to the swell of your full breasts, his tongue finding and circling around an erect nipple, flicking it playfully in his mouth before applying gentle suction. Next came his fingertips; His hand had wandered undetected, landing between your thighs, his fingertips fluttering gently upon your clit and folds, deftly rolling soft spirals around the bud, collecting and dispersing a thick layer of of your own slick upon the sensitive skin. Your back arched reflexively against his touch and you bit at your bottom lip as he pressed his weight against your body, holding you down against the bed. His lips dragged from your tits to your belly, sucking hot wet kisses onto the supple skin however and wherever he pleased, determined to leave proof of being there.

“Still okay?” he asked in a low, husky murmur.

“Absolutely. Don’t stop,” you nodded enthusiastically, squeezing his free arm. You fell back against the pillows, closing your eyes as you traced his movement, creating a map of where he has been, and where he has yet to go. He moved lower and lower until you both knew what was coming next. He teased your entrance with the pad of his thumb, licking, kissing, and flitting his tongue and lips against your swollen clit. The fullness of his thumb felt so good, but it didn’t stop you from wanting so much more, until he surprised you with one finger, then two curling upward inside of you.

“Mm, so fucking hot and tight on my fingers, Y/n,” he praised you, gasping for another breath. You could hear his lips on your pussy, the sound your wetness made upon his face, tongue and lips as they fucked into you.

“Fuck, Josh!” you moaned, reaching your hand down to grasp a fistful of his curls in your hand. You could feel his soft stubble beginning to abrase your skin, but it only added to the sensation of the moment. You pulled him against you as if his hair were reins. With the leverage you had, you fucked up into his face with your hips, bouncing as best you could from the bed. Before you knew it, you felt your core swelling with fullness, and you knew you wouldn’t last much longer like this. He scrambled off of the mattress, his hands darting to his belt and pants, getting them off and tossing them to the floor while you waited desperately for his return. When he finally stood naked before you, he needed no preparation; his cock was fully erect and stiff, ready to give you the fuck of your life-the fuck you deserved. He would make love to you later, but now? Now he needed you to know that he found you undeniably sexy and that there was nothing on this planet that could or would stop him from ever wanting or needing you.

He took his cock firmly in his hand, stroking it a few times before crawling onto the bed and reaching for you to spread your legs and reorient your body. You watched the intensity in his expression-how drawn and downturned his eyebrows had grown as he lined himself up against your hot and slick entrance. You knew he wouldn’t last long once he was inside. He pushed himself into you slowly, and you immediately felt how big he was, and how he filled you completely. You couldn’t help but squeeze your walls around his cock.

“Fuck,” you moaned, watching him wrap his arms around your legs stroking into you slowly, bearing his weight down to fuck into you as deep as he could before backing away and repeating the process. He started slow, his eyes falling shut. He bit his lip as he focused.

“You are so. Fucking. Tight.” he muttered sloppily as he took in a relieving breath, having held it unintentionally. You responded to his observation by purposefully gripping his cock again. “Fuck!” he moaned, turning his head to kiss the softness of your leg. “Your pussy is incredible.”

You enjoyed the way the word sounded coming from his lips. As if he owned it. “Say that again,” you ordered breathlessly.

He found your eyes, looking into them as he spoke. “I love your fucking pussy. I love it,” he repeated, withdrawing an arm from your leg to meet your clit with his thumb, rubbing in a slew of patterns to leave you writhing up in down in unexplainable pleasure.

“Oh fuck. Fuck! Just like that,” you encouraged. “Keep going. Don’t stop. I need more,” you plead with him.

“I don’t plan to stop, honey. Not until we’re both good and satisfied,” he said in a low growl. His face had turned several shades of pink from exertion, his eyes dropped half open and his mouth had fallen slack as he worked to vary the depth and intensity of each stroke. You wanted all of him and everything he had to offer.

“Come here,” you said softly. He obliged, lowering himself so that he was flush ontop of you and you lay face to face as he fucked so deftly into you. His lips tasted of salt, mixed with the clean scent of his skin. His hands cradled your face gently, his thumbs caressing your cheeks as his gaze bored through you. You felt his fingertips mussing at the hair at your neck, but you knew he was doing it unconsciously. You could see the emerging orgasm coming; his expression gave it away. Suddenly, he retracted a hand from your face and placed it back between your legs to finger your clit again. His hands moved just right. Just right. He never stayed in one place for too long, and the pressure he placed on your clit and folds as he fucked into you sped your closer and closer to cumming. You were only mere seconds behind him.

“Cum on my cock, baby,” he huffed raggedly, stroking into you faster, but not too fast–not too hard. He was absolutely perfect in the way he held you, fucking you with his cock and fingers, determined to leave you feeling inarguably satisfied. Your body, like his, was covered in a thick layer of sweat, allowing your bodies to slide against one another in just the right way.

“Im so close. I’m gonna cum,” you finally groaned. You reached to grab a fistful of sheets, but his hands shot upward to pull them to his chest instead as he moved into a new position, bearing his weight against his palms as he pounded deeper and deeper into your core. And then there was a fullness raging through your core that you couldn’t control any longer. “Josh-Josh!” You groaned louder, pushing against his chest as if to get him away from you, but he only locked himself more securely to you, looking into your eyes as he drove you off of the cliff. You vision went white as you finally came, as if stars were bursting and fizzing within your veins. Every bodily function seemed to pause in an instant as you arched and writhed helplessly against him, your thighs having a mind as their own as they bucked against his. He finally sat completely upright and pulled his arms around your legs as he threw your body weight against his thrust, sending his cock the deepest it had been.

“Fuck!” He spat, his face dripping with sweat, his prim curls having fallen in a loose, damp halo as he pounded into you. He pulled out at the very last moment, fisting his cock desperately as he scrambled to your mouth where you took all of him, instinctively rolling your lips around his thick, hot shaft. He held your head in place as he unloaded, thrusting into your mouth. You took it in stride, doing whatever he needed. The noises that came out of his mouth could have made you cum again. He sounded inexplicably vulnerable and blissful as he fell apart above you. You felt his body rock and hitch as he came, and you squeezed his thigh, pulling him in closer. He wasted no time basking in his own satisfaction, though. He lowered himself to kiss you deeply, now tasting himself on your lips as he captured and sealed the last passionate vestiges of the moment. He plastered his body to yours, rolling you around on the bed so that his fingers were knotted deep within your hair, his lips pressed to yours over and over. You slept that night cuddled up to him completely naked. You were tired of hiding, and this man did everything in his power to coax you out of the safe, but unrewarding cocoon you had claimed for so many years. He made you feel beautiful–for all of your imperfections, for the extra pounds, for the funny laugh you couldn’t get rid of, for the poor taste in reality tv shows you had, he had made you feel radiant. You’d cling to that for as long as you could because you knew one thing for certain:

Joshua Michael Kiszka was a real fucking man.

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resident-gay-bitch · 1 year

Text

part one of this can be found here :) it has little steddie

"subtle." steve said, leaning up against the backside of the rv they'd stolen, folding his arms over his chest as he looked on at eddie.

eddie flinched back, almost dropping his cigarette, "shit." he gasped and then relaxed when he saw it was steve standing there, "yeah, well... it's better than getting another lecture about lung cancer from baby sinclare."

steve chuckled softly to walk over and crouch on the grass beside him, "care to share?"

"he rhymes!" eddie said with a little dramatic flare as he passed the smoke over to steve.

steve grinned as he inhaled and they settled into a comfortable silence. they passed the smoke back and forth a few times. he looked at eddie in the silence, playing a thousand different possible conversations over in his mind.

"you'll protect dustin, right?" steve asked.

eddie blinked at him, pressing the smoke between his lips, "what?"

"down there." steve said, like it was simple, "when you're... you'll keep him safe?"

eddie sighed and looked back out at the treeline, "i'd give my life to make sure that kids safe, man."

steve sighed too, a heavy one, a weight being lifted off his shoulders, "yeah..." he looked back at eddie, "me too."

eddie looked over to him, blowing out the last puff of the cigarette before he stubbed it in the grass. they locked eyes, staring at eachother with a heavy weight pushing down on their shoulders. eddie let his head fall back and thump against the rv slumping down until he was comfortably sat. steve mimicked his movements.

they shared a look, one with so much weight and pain, and they both knew what it meant. they didn't have to say it out loud to know that one of them probably wasn't going to make it back out of this alive.

eddie gave him a small smile.

steve nodded his head, "shit."

eddie laughed, and it was pained, but a laugh no less, "i'm gonna need a-fuckin-nother cigarette man."

"we have bigger problems than lung cancer to worry about right now." steve said, holding his hand out as eddie fumbled with his pack of camels.

he huffed a laugh and placed a cigarette between steves long fingers, "damn right."

steve watched with a small smile as eddie searched for his lighter and quickly lit it as steve inahled. eddie's hand lingered, holding the lighter without a flame at the end of the cigarette as steve held his breath. his eyes fixed on steves lips as he drew the smoke away and blew. he only snapped out of it and pulled back when the smoke drifted to his face.

steve handed him the cigarette.

"did you have a good life, at least?"

eddie shrugged, "ah... i wouldn't say good, but... not bad either, y'know?"

"yeah." steve sighed, "same here."

"really?" eddie hummed around the cigarette, "you got that big house and girls fawning over you and you wouldn't call that a good life?"

steve furrowed his brow and looked at eddie, and if that sentance was said any other way, steve probably would have taken offence to it. but eddie said it with such genuine curiosity that it lead steve to feel a little bad. eddie didn't have a big house, and steve had seen the way that girls would look at him, heard the way they'd talk about him. to steve, those two things seemed so pointless and stupid these days, they couldn't make a good life. but to someone like eddie, those thinks might have been gold.

"yeah..." steve said with a small shrug, "i guess those things are okay... i mean, i've got a big house but it's always so empty. and those girls man? its great in theory, but they all just come and go, only there for one thing. kinda shitty when you think about it."

"oh." eddie said, looking deeply at steve as he tapped the ash off the smoke before handing it to steve, "wheelers the only one that meant somethin, huh?"

steve scoffed and laughed, "yeah..." he took a smoke, "s'bullshit though."

eddie nodded and looked back out to the trees, "i'd give anything for a big house like yours... wayne doesn't even have his own room in our trailer."

"it's so lonely, man." steve shrugged, "maybe if my parents were around more than like... two weeks in a year, or i had a sibling or something, but..."

"oh." eddie swallowed, "didn't know you had shitty parents."

"don't tell many people."

eddie sighed, "i know how you feel... mum overdosed when i was ten, and dad..."

"taught you how to hotwire a car." steve nodded and thumped his head back against the rv, "you needn't say much more."

eddie laughed quietly, "yeah."

"but the good stuff?"

"well... i got my boys, you know, the band-"

"corroded coffin, right?" steve asked and handed the cigarette back. he ignored the way his stomach flipped at eddie's bright smile and the fresh glow in his eyes at the fact that steve remembered- no, that he knew, "dustin doesn't shut up about you, man... he's- he's been begging me to take him to one of your shows because the bar wont let him in alone."

eddie smiled so brightly, bashfully, "really?" he scrunched up his nose, and steve thought he was beautiful.

"yeah... but i kept saying no, cause, like... why would i want to go see eddie, the freak, munsons metal band play in some dodgy dive bar on a random tuesday, you know?" he laughed, and eddie did too, thankfully not offended. steve wasn't trying to offend him, afterall, it was just a fact, "wish i had now."

"don't dwell on the past, stevie." eddie sighed, puffing a thin cloud of smoke out to the sky.

steves heart skipped a beat at the nickname.

"for dustins sake, man..." he gave eddie small smile, "now i'll never get to take him to one of your shows."

"probably." eddie insisted, giving steve a stern glare with an arch of his eyebrow, "not definitely... you need to try your best to make it back to him."

"you too." steve smiled.

"i need to make it back to wayne..." he sighed, "that man, he... he took me in and gave up his whole life to look after me, ya know? it's not fair of me to just... die on the spot."

steve nodded, "same with robin."

"steve..." eddie said, his eyes sinking as he turned his head towards him.

"yeah?"

"promise me..." eddie swallowed, "promise me, if you get out of here... if i don't... tell him thanks? tell him that i love him, and thankyou... for everything?"

"yeah, eddie." steve smiled, his hand reaching out to rest over eddies on the cool grass below them. he gave it a little squeeze, "i promise- but only if you promise to say the same to robin for me?"

"can't you tell her yourself?" eddie huffed, passing the smoke back to steve with his free hand, that wasn't trapped by steves warm one.

"she wont let me." he laughed softly and pulled the cigarette to his pretty lips, "i don't blame her."

"then, yeah." eddie smiled and flipped his hand upwards under steves so their palms connected, and so he could slot their fingers together to hold, "yeah, i promise."

they both looked out at the treeline, watching a pair of birds dance around together in the distance, feeling the cool breeze that came with the slow beginning of the sunset as they shared the end of eddies cigarette. once it was done and stubbed out in the grass, they still didn't let go of one anothers hands, they just watch the sky turn a dusky shade of pink and purple.

"tell me a secret." eddie said quietly, not looking at the other man as he spoke, but he let a soft smile creep onto his lips as he said it, "something no one else knows."

"a secret?" steve asked.

"yeah." eddie looked at him with that same soft smile, "it can be anything... your deepst darkest desire, your biggest fear, the thing that keeps you up at night... or, something super fucking embaressing that you thought you'd never tell anyone."

steve giggled softly and looked over at eddie with a pink splatter in his cheeks, "you wanna know a secret?"

"yes." eddie said with a proud smile and a nod.

"why?" steve asked.

"because... i wanna know something about steve almighty that no one else does- not even buckley!" eddie squeezed steves hand, "i think that would be an awesome power move... you know? eddie the freak, harboring something burried deep in the vault of harrington... plus, if i die, then it dies with me, no one else could ever know. if you die, then you'll be getting it off your chest. win, win."

steve squinted his eyes and smiled, "will you tell me one too?"

"only if you ask nicely." eddie hummed, gazing at steve a little dreamily, honestly.

"okay..." steve laughed, nervous under eddie's gaze, "please tell me a secret in return."

"i promise." eddie smiled.

steve grinned and looked back out at the trees, thinking of something to tell eddie. something no one else knew. something eddie could appreciate.

"okay, robin has seen this, but she doesn't know why." steve peaked at him out of the corner of his eye, and he smiled softly, eddie got rather excited, "i have a ken and a gi joe doll sitting next to eachother on the shelf in my wardrobe holding hands."

eddie burst out with laughter, "what?"

steve laughed too, "get it... cause they're... they're in the closet."

eddie looked at him blankly for a moment, and steve tried to hold back his smile. it wasn't working. he could feel his cheeks burning red and his laughter begging to break out as eddie just looked at him, dead serious.

and then they both broke, laughing loudly to the point of tears.

"i can't believe you have a closeted ken and gi joe doll in your bedroom."

"it has sentimental meaning, okay?" steve scoffed, sending a bittersweet smile to eddie.

"a double entendre, maybe?" he asked with a hopeful glint in his eye.

"yeah." steve sighed, leaning back against the rv again with a saddened smile, "robbie doesn't know about that either."

"i can't believe you remember." is what eddie said next, and it made steve blush.

"it was you." he said simply, looking over at eddie softly.

"hmm." he nodded, "i can't believe i was the start of steve harringtons sexuality crisis."

steve cracked a smile, "don't get an ego, now."

"too late." eddie sighed with a click of his tongue. he grinned wildly at steve, "already got one, big boy."

steve blushed and rolled his eyes, "come on... what's your secret?"

eddie looked at him with a soft smile now. steves skin prickled as eddie started to softly soothe the back of his palm with his calloused thumb. steve looked at him, waiting patiently for eddie's reveal. eddie turned a little pink, and steve found him adorable.

"i'm twenty one and still haven't had my first kiss."

steves eyes widened and his mouth gaped open, "what?"

eddie laughed softly, "i haven't had my-"

"i heard you..." steve muttered with a disbelieving shake of his head, "why not?"

"well, it's not as easy when you're a freak, stevie." he hummed and wiggled their combined hands, looking down at them as he spoke his next words, "plus... this real pretty boy promised to take it when i was nine."

his eyes flicked back up to steve, big, dark, baby cow eyes that steve could stare so deeply into. he swallowed, and eddie did too, and they looked at eachother for a moment.

"he's still the prettiest boy ive ever seen." eddie said, his voice almost a whisper as he just looked at steve.

steve felt himself blushing from the tips of his ears down to his stomach. sure, he was called hot and attractive all the time. but never like this. no one called him pretty, and looked at him with such genuinity and care. no one made his stomach flip like eddie did. not even nancy.

steve hopped they'd both make it out of this alive.

"you know..." steve muttered low, his eyes flickering between eddies pretty pink lips and his beautiful eyes, "i thought this from that day, and every day since... but you're the prettiest boy i've ever seen too."

eddie smiled softly, "you're not gonna let me go without having my first kiss, right?"

steve scrunched up his nose with a little giggle, and eddie laughed, "no... obviously not."

eddie smiled and licked his lips, "i don't know what i'm doing."

"luckily, i do." steve said with a grin, and it made eddie blush again, "i've never kissed a guy before, though."

eddie smiled, "good."

steve rolled his eyes and grinned, tugging on eddies hand to pull him a little closer.

eddie leant over, his other hand landing on steves thigh for support and oh, the way his face turned bright red at the action made steves stomach flip.

"s- sorry." eddie swallowed and pulled his hand away from his thigh.

steve took his hand gently and placed it back there, "its okay, don't be sorry."

"o-okay." eddie laughed a little breathlessly, clearly very fucking nervous.

steve was nervous too.

"you don't have that cough this time?" eddie asked, and it made steve giggle and shake his head.

"definitely not."

eddie grinned.

steve cupped his jaw gently, caressing his stubble ridden skin with a tenderness that seemed to make eddie melt. eddie hadn't been touched with such care before, such gentleness. he'd never had someone want to kiss him, especially not like this. steve pulled him in, and with the first brush of their lips, eddie sighed.

his eyes fluttered shut, and steve held him close as their lips pressed together a little flrmer. he let steve take the lead, because he was clueless, and they kissed for a while.

kissing eddie was good. it was sweet and a little smoky from the cigarette, and his plushy lips were just as soft as steve had imagined. kissing eddie was much better than steve thought it could ever be.

kissing steve was heaven.

when they pulled apart, eddie lifted his hand to brush some hair from steves pretty eyes, to caress his flushed cheek and thumb at his kiss swollen lip. eddie looked over him with a tenderness in his eyes, carving steves name into his heart and hoping the stone would stay that way.

"make it back..." he whispered, his eyes lifting to steves for a moment, a wetness welling up behind them, "come back to me?"

steve sucked in a breath and ran his hand through eddie's knotty curls, "you too..." steve kissed him again, "i need you to make it back too, eddie. promise me."

"okay." eddie whispered and kissed him some more, "i promise."

"i promise too." steve nudged their noses together.

they both ignored the tears that crept their way into the next kiss, knowing that unlike the last, this promise probably wouldn't stay true.

tags: @grtwdsmwhr @every-aj-needs-an-angel :) <3

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daysiwrld · 4 months

Text

꩜1: welcome to paradise

You look up at the sky, it is Wednesday, the first day of school. "I'm early." You mutter to yourself as you check the time on your phone. It was almost eight in the morning, your first class wasn't until 9:45.

You lived off campus, roughly ten minutes away. You woke up early that day but went to sleep late the previous night. It was the beginning of a new semester, at your new college, and you were filled with dread. With each step you took the weight on your chest got heavier.

I hate this feeling

Although you wished to sleep a little longer, you couldn't, your anxiety did not permit it. So you decided to go to school. You planned to get some coffee and then sit in the library until it was time to head to class.

Paradis University wasn't the smallest campus, but in comparison to your previous university, it was. The campus was clean and modern, not many students were there, but you imagined they would flood in within the hour. You stopped by the school's coffee shop, grabbing a hot coffee before heading to the library.

"Have a nice day!" You hear the girl yell as you walk out the door. You wave back with a smile.

Sighing, you walk towards the tall building known as the library. You took in the scenery as you walked. Although there was no sun shining, you noticed that the walkways were all shaded by trees with long branches. Right in the middle of the campus was a huge tree that provided a large area of shade, and a picnic table within it.

Your surroundings were soothing, the worry you felt earlier had diminished a bit, and you felt more hopeful about the school year.

Walking into the library, you silently greet the librarian, and make your way to a secluded area near a window. The library is four stories, but you stayed on the first floor since it wasn't busy.

You dig through your bag taking out earbuds and the book you'd been reading. You check the time. Damn, only 8:30. As you take a sip of your coffee, you notice a figure standing in the corner of your eye.

Your eyes meet with those of a girl your age. She's pretty and thin, with big brown eyes, and long hair that's tied up in a ponytail. You take in her appearance, her outfit was cute and simple, flare jeans, converse, and a fitted graphic tee that enhanced her figure just perfectly.

"Y/n?" the girl questions, you furrow your eyebrows. Do we know each other?

"Yes?" you respond quietly, racking your mind for any memory of her.

"It's me, Sasha...do you remember me?" She asks as she approaches the table.

Sasha...Sasha? oh, Sasha!

"Yes!" you blurt out, startling the girl. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you, it just clicked in my brain, and well..." You explain meekly taking out your earbuds.

"It's okay, I'm sorry if I approached you weirdly, I was just walking by and you caught my eye. You just looked so familiar, I was trying to figure out who you were before I realized, sorry." She replies equally embarrassed. You shake your head with a smile, "it's okay."

"But girl, it's been like what, five years? How have you been?" The brunette asks with a smile.

You met Sasha when you were ten, she transferred to your school in 5th grade. You both were instantly glued to each other, becoming the very best of friends. The summer before you turned 15, you moved away suddenly leaving her behind. Due to certain circumstances, you weren't able to say goodbye properly, leaving Sasha confused, sad, and alone.

You felt your chest tighten at the memory, oh how terrible you felt now.

Ignoring your heavy feelings you give her a weak smile, "I've been...better, but I'm okay."

She nods her head, silence falls upon you both, the feelings you were trying to ignore must have resurfaced for her as well. The abandonment weighed heavy on Sasha's heart.

You sit in silence a few moments longer before she speaks up, "I've missed you, I would think of you ever so often." You nod your head, looking down at the table. You wanted to apologize and explain why you left, but you couldn't bring yourself to, it was too hard for you to talk about. You take a deep breath trying to find the right words to say.

You hear sniffing from across you, you look up to see Sasha with glazed eyes. "I'm really happy to see you again." She smiles. You take in a deep breath looking up towards the ceiling.

"Girl wipe those fucking tears before I start crying." You state, causing her to laugh. You look at her with a smile on your face. "I'm sorry, I get emotional when others do," you state, letting out a laugh and wiping your eyes on your sleeve. She nods her head understandingly. "I hope this isn't weird, but can I hug you? It's okay if you don't-"

Quickly, you get up, stepping out from the table going to her side, hugging her tightly as she sits. Sasha instantly melts in your embrace, getting up to wrap her arms around you. You both stand like that for a few minutes before you both realize how weird you probably look to others. You pull away from Sasha.

"No homo tho..." you state, causing Sasha to laugh.

"Still the same as before, can't have an emotional moment with you ever." Sasha playfully rolls her eyes as the two of you sit back down. "You know me." You reply with a smile.

"On a serious note, I do want to explain what happened, just give me some time, it's not easy for me to talk about. Just know that it wasn't my intention to up and leave. I promise." you assert looking directly into Sasha's eyes.

"I imagined that was the case, I would think 'y/n wouldn't do this to me willingly, something must have happened' and well now I know that's the truth. tell me at your pace, no pressure, just don't leave again, at least without a proper goodbye." she sends a smile.

"Girl, I'll try." You state seriously before laughing. She deadpans, "bitch-"

"I'm kidding! I'm kidding, of course, I'll never do that to you again." You wave your arms to emphasize. She squints her eyes, "You better not..."

"Anyways, do you have class soon? What time if so?" You ask Sasha, putting your book and earbuds back in your bag. "My first class is at 9:45, it's an art survey class, what about you?" She responds. "Same, what's your professor's name?" you ask. She grabs her phone checking her schedule, "Professor Smith in white hall, room 305."

"Cool, we have the same class," you reply, looking at the schedule on your phone. "We still have roughly an hour til class, you wanna go walk around or something? I was just going to sit here and read." You look up at Sasha. She nods her head grabbing her bag, "Yeah, this is your first year here huh? You want me to give you a tour?" You nod your head grabbing your bag, "Yeah, I'd like that."

"Yeah his name is Jean, I think you'll like him," Sasha exclaims as the two of you walk.

She showed you where most of your classes are, the dorms where she stays, and the best hangout spots, but for the most part, you both just talked, catching each other up. You were sure to tell her only about the good things, she was happy and you didn't want to ruin it.

"Really? Well, I can't wait to meet him and all the others." You respond to Sasha as the two of you walk to your first class. The tour wasn't long since everything was nearby. You arrived about 15 minutes early. "Looks like we can get seats in the back since we're early" Sasha points to the back of the lecture room, there were only five other students already there.

The two of you walk to the back left corner of the room near the big windows. "Who'd you say was in this class as well?" You ask as you sit next to her. "Jean and Connie, let me text them and see where they're at." She unlocks her phone, sending them a text. you nod your head turning towards the front. More students began filing in, and you observed them quietly; taking in appearances, and making generalizations about them. It was like a game.

You watch a guy with a buzz cut walk in, he daps up some friends and begins conversing loudly with them, disturbing surrounding students. Too much energy...

You shift your eyes forward when you see another man walk in. He stood very tall and handsome, with light brown hair, his style was simple and comfy, plain black hoodie, gray sweatpants, and some bunny slippers. Bunny slippers?

He stands at the front scanning the room, his eyes land in your direction. "That's Jean," Sasha whispers to you as you stare at the giant walking towards you. "I fuck with his bunny slippers," you reply, causing her to laugh.

"Hey, what are you laughing about?" Jean questions, furrowing his eyebrows a little. "nothing," she waves him off trying to conceal her laughter.

Sasha sat next to the window causing Jean to sit next to you, sandwiching you between them.

Sasha returns to her phone after feeling it vibrate leaving you with Jean.

"So you must be y/n?" He states studying the side of your face intently. You turn to him, "Yeah, I'm Sasha's childhood friend." You didn't mean to sound plain, but talking to men you didn't know made you awkward. He nods his head, "I've heard about you from her, I'm shocked though, she didn't mention that you were attending our university now." his lips curl up into a smile.

"Nor did she mention how pretty you are." He smoothly states, causing you to smile and look away.

"She just happened to run into me today, she didn't know either," you respond still looking away, you couldn't help feeling embarrassed. "C'mon, look at me when you're talking, I can barely hear you." Jean presses, trying to get more of a reaction.

"Hey guys," Buzzcut greets. You wave at him with a small smile ignoring Jean completely.

"Hey Connie," Sasha looks up to acknowledge him before returning to her phone. She texts rapidly as her face becomes more and more serious. I wonder who has her worked up like that...

"Y/n, right?" you turn your head back towards Connie. "Yeah, that's me," you respond, nodding your head. "Nice to meet you, I'm Connie, as you probably gathered." He flashes a smile, pointing at the girl sitting next to you. "Nice to meet you too," you return the smile.

Connie takes his place next to Jean and the two begin conversing about whatever men talk about, you tune them out, looking at the very front again. You notice a tall, serious-looking, blonde man at the podium. must be Dr. Smith.

You check your phone and notice you have five minutes left before class begins, "Sasha, what's your schedule for the rest of the day?"

Locking her phone, she places it facedown on the table turning her attention to you. "I have a break after this, my next class is at twelve-fifteen, and then I have three back-to-back classes until 4:30. Why, what's up?" You shake your head, "just wondering, my next class isn't till twelve-fifteen too, I didn't eat breakfast today, do you want to get food with me after this?"

Sasha gets a big smile on her face, "girl duh, I love food!" she exclaims with a laugh. You smile rolling your eyes jokingly, before you can respond Dr. Smith calls attention to the front.

"Good morning to you all, I am Professor Erwin Smith, and this is Art History 110, if that's not on your schedule, you are not in the right class." The blonde states looking around. A few students embarrassingly grab their things exiting the class quietly.

"I guess the rest of you are meant to be here." He states grabbing a big stack of papers from the desk behind him, he hands small stacks to a couple of kids sitting in the front, directing them to pass them back after getting one.

"Today is a simple day, we are just going over the syllabus and expectations for this class, we shouldn't be here for more than twenty minutes. So please, do not ask questions because I don't want to be here for longer than twenty minutes." scattered laughs are heard throughout the room.

He began spewing about the details on the syllabus, you tried to keep up, but you found it hard to concentrate. Your lack of proper sleep was catching up to you and you hated how bright it was in the room.

"Hey are you okay?" you hear from beside you, you turn to Jean and nod your head, giving him a small smile. "Yeah, I just didn't sleep much last night and it's catching up to me," you reply quietly.

Jean's mouth forms an 'o', "do you have a class after this or break?" he questions, you shake your head, "my next class isn't until 12:15, I'm going to get some food with Sasha since I didn't eat breakfast as well."

"Didn't sleep or eat? What are you trying to do? Kill yourself?" he questions half-jokingly. You quietly let out a laugh. Although you just met him, you like Jean, he is a lot easier to talk to for some reason, something that didn't come easy to you with new people let alone men.

"Try getting some rest though, after getting food, maybe take a nap in the library," he suggests. you nod your head, "yeah, I might do that." he stares at you a little longer before turning to focus on Dr. Smith.

Twenty minutes flew by, and Dr. Smith dismissed class promptly. "Remember to do your introduction discussion board before Monday comes! it's easy points and lets your classmates and I know more about you." He lastly says as students leave.

After grabbing your bag you patiently wait for Sasha, who hasn't even begun packing due to being distracted on her phone. Damn, I hope she tells me about whatever is going on later.

"Hey."

You turn to see Jean, "Hey, I thought you left with Connie." He shakes his head, "Nah, he has another class in fifteen minutes, my next class isn't until 12:15. I wanted to see if I could join the two of you?" He asks with a hopeful tone. You nod your head, "for sure, I would like that, I'm sure Sasha doesn't mind."

"What don't I mind?" you hear the brunette question, standing beside you. "Jean wants to join us to get food, is that okay?" you ask her. She puts a finger on her chin pretending to think hard about the question. "Hm, I don't know..." She squints her eyes at Jean causing him to roll his eyes. "Sasha shut up and let's go." He begins walking towards the front. She giggles at his reaction, the two of you following behind him.

"Y/n?" you look up to Jean, waiting for him to continue. Sasha went back to being immersed in her phone, she walked behind as you and Jean walked side by side.

"What are your plans for this Friday?" He looks at you waiting for a response. "I work a morning shift Friday since we don't have school, but nothing after why?"

"Well, there's a party happening that night, and I wanted to see if you like to come. Sasha and all of our friends are going to be there. Are you up for it?" He questions hopefully. You think about it for a second. You aren't a big fan of parties, but you know it would be good for you, you didn't know anyone other than Sasha and Jean, so it wouldn't hurt to socialize.

"Yeah, I'm down," you reply, although deep down, you were reluctant.

–

hello! ꨄ︎ first chapter is posted! what are your thoughts? did you like it?

sorry if this chapter is boring to you, i promise it'll pick up next chapter! this chapter is important mainly for y/n and sasha's reunion.

please like! and share if you can, i'd appreciate it greatly. ꨄ︎

#attack on titan #connie springer #eren jaeger #jean kirstein #reiner braun #annie leonhart #aot smut #eren jeager x reader #eren fanfiction #mikasa ackerman #armin arlert #sasha braus #bertholdt hoover #aot fanfiction #niccolo aot

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