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bleedingoptimism · 11 months

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𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚

part 2

Steve is looking around the room when he sees Jay waving at him, so he smiles and waves back. He likes Jay. He’s nice and super fun to beat at cards.

And then he notices there’s someone sitting beside Jay and his hand falters before he puts it down.

The guy looks… tough, all lean and strong and sexy in his leather jacket and ripped jeans. Tattoos, rings, and pierced ears with long curly hair. But his eyes, his big eyes are beautiful and dark and his lips are round and look really soft. He’s all sharp but round around the edges. A walking contradiction. And Steve’s never seen anyone like him before.

Without taking his eyes off him, he moves over to where Chrissy is sitting with Robin and sits with them, takes Chrissy’s hand, and holds it lovingly like he always does.

“Hey, babe,” He whispers to her, “Who’s that guy sitting with Jay?”

“That’s Strider,” Robin says leaning over Chrissy to talk to him, “He’s an old friend of Jay’s, new in town. Why? You like him?”

“Strider…That’s a character from the book Dustin likes, right?” He wonders, “The Hobbit?”

“The Lord of the Rings” Chrissy corrects him.

“Right… nerd” He quips.

“So? Do you? Like him.” Chrissy asks squeezing his hand in retaliation.

“He’s gorgeous,” Steve confirms and Chrissy smiles excitedly. It’s not every day Steve notices someone in the bar. It has never happened before actually.

“You really think so?” Robin murmurs to him, “He looks like he’d like telling you what to do,”

Steve hums appreciatively, “Yes, but like, in a nice way, right? Like he’ll say please and thank you,” he says dreamily.

Robin snorts, “Is that what you are into, you nasty boy?” Steve gasps so hard he almost chokes on his own spit and Robin starts cackling, while Chrissy giggles cutely.

“Fuck off,” He snaps, “And you, don’t laugh you dummy! You are supposed to be the stoic leader here!”

Chrissy sobers up immediately, “Right, right” and then the three of them, look at each other amused trying to hold their laughs in.

Fuck, if anyone heard how silly they were their reputation would be completely ruined.

The phrase ‘fake it til you make it’ never made more sense than it does for them right now.

When the three of them, fresh out of high school moved into the city when Chrissy started showing symptoms… they had absolutely nothing to their name, and now, they owned a fucking bar. They had a roof over their head, food on their tables, and more importantly, they were offering shelter to a lot of people that used to be where they were a couple of years ago.

The lack of information around them made them look mysterious. And Robin had a way with business and marketing. So a couple of well-placed rumors did all the work for them. Just a few lessons on how to make a real bitchy face from Steve and suddenly Chrissy was the scariest girl in the night.

It had been a rough start, and more than once Steve thought they wouldn't make it till the end of the month. But they’d gotten lucky when they found this place and they had been smart about it and now they had responsibilities and a establishment to uphold but that didn’t mean they couldn't have any fun.

“Go talk to him!” Chrissy tells him elbowing him subtly.

Steve shakes his head, “No, no way,”

“Dude, he’s been looking at you since the minute he came in!” Robin insists.

But that doesn't mean as much as she thinks it does. That doesn’t make it safe for him. Still, he kind of wants to talk to him, to hear his voice, to know what he’s like and what he likes and what not. And just when Steve is actually considering it Mayra, one of their hostess, walks up to Strider.

Robin frowns, “Oh, fuck off Mayra” she mutters and Steve has to stifle a loud snort.

“Oh well, lost my chance I guess,” He says unbothered but actually feels really upset about it. He’s never felt jealous of any of the girl's conquests before. It’s strange, but there’s something about that guy.

He wanted him for himself. He needs him.

“Bet you a burger that if you go there right now, he’ll choose you over her” Chrissy says studying his expression like she can see right through him.

“I’m not gonna cock block Mayra for a burger” He smiles at her shaking his head.

“Oh! No need! He rejected her!” Robin tells them excitedly.

And then they both stare at him,

“What are you waiting for?!”

“Well then, go on!”

They talk at the same time.

“I- Ok! Fine. But if he rejects me you are buying me that burger,” He says standing up.

“If he rejects you I’ll buy you burgers for the whole week!” Chrissy whispers-yells at him as he’s making his way there.

He sees Jay walking up and leaving Strider alone at the little table and makes a note to thank him later as he sits beside Strider and puts his elbows on the table, using his hands to rest his chin over and looking at him.

“Hi”

Strider blinks at him a couple of times and visibly swallows, “Hi,”

Steve just leans his head to one side and smiles at him, and Strider just looks at him for a long second before smiling back crookedly, a dimple appearing on his left cheek that makes Steve want to bite him.

“I’m Ee-Strider,”

Steve’s smile becomes something a little more genuine and less flirty, he seems so nice, his strider, “Hi, Strider”

“And you are Sunshine, right?” Strider asks leaning a little closer over the table.

Steve bites his lip before answering. He was never particularly fond of that nickname, it’s too much to live up to. But he really likes the way it sounds coming from Strider.

“That’s what they call me, yes” he answers smirking confidently.

‘Fake it Till you Make It’

“So, Strider, What brings you here tonight?”

Once more Strider just looks at him intently, looks at his lips, and then shakes his head, looking around feigning casualness, “Oh, you know, just checking out the scene”

He muffles a giggle over his own shoulder and then leans his head to look at Strider sideways, exposing the line of his neck, “And how are you finding it?” he asks softly.

“Oh, it’s really neck so f- nice really nice… So far” Strider stumbles over his words and then cringes to himself and blushes faintly.

And Steve gets suddenly really fucking impatient. He needs this cute dork upstairs, naked and under him right now.

“Has anyone explained to you how things work around here?” He asks him, trying to move the conversation along.

Strider nods, “Je-Jay explained to me the gist of it, yeah”

“Oh, yeah?” Steve nods too and puts his chin on his hands again, fawning his eyelashes at him and waiting for him to elaborate.

“Well, you choose right?” Strider continues and gestures vaguely around the room referring to the hostesses, “And then you take us upstairs…”

“Mmhm” Steve hums encouraging him to keep talking, “And then?”

“And then I get to taste you,” Strider breathes and fuck.

Taste him? Taste him. Yes. He wants that. He wants that so much.

“Taste me?” He asks because the concept still sounds too good to be true.

“Right?” Strider asks like he’s not sure the said the right thing.

‘Oh, he has no idea how right he was’

Steve leans over the table and stops just an inch away from Strider’s face, almost going eye crossed to look at him, “Would you like that, Strider?” he asks and then moves closer and to the side to whisper in his ear,

“Do you want to taste me?”

“God. Fuck, yes. Please?” Strider says in a rushed whisper and Steve tries his best not to shiver.

He stands up and offers up a hand to him, “Follow me.”

part 1: 🍷

part 2: you are here

part 3: 🩸

bonus content: ☀️

ao3: 🌙

art: 🦇

coffee?☕🥐💕

#stranger things #steddie #vampire eddie munson #steve harrington #i wrote something #oh boy we are in it now

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luveline · 9 months

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love you so much. your writing has been a light in my life for the last months. it's cute and lovely and just everything i need in my life. <3 i have chronic back pain and it's been bad the last couple of weeks. this keeps me inside and secluded most of the time and it eats me alive sometimes, moreso mentally than physically. the thought of having to deal with this the rest of my life is very overwhelming at times. could you maybe write something about aaron taking care of reader with chronic pain, maybe she's mad or sad or even pushes him away but he won't go and he loves her anyway. i feel like a guy like that would be all in no matter what. don't we all look for that kind of love? anyway, lovely to meet you and i hope you have a wonderful day/week/month/year/life. you deserve it *kiss* *flies away embarrassed* *love ya still and always*

thank you for requesting, I hope you get some relief soon my love ♡ —aaron draws you out of your bed and your bad mood. fem!reader

"Honey, let's get up."

It irritates you to hear Aaron phrasing it that way. Let's, like he's wasted the morning in bed with you. In reality, he's spent the last few hours working through a thousand and one chores in the kitchen while you rammed your head under a pillow. He's been up.

You try very hard to keep your annoyance to yourself. He's encouraging, not cruel. "I don't want to," you say.

Aaron's footsteps have the floorboards creaking softly. The pillow is lifted from your head gently, and an even nicer expression waits for you when you turn your sweaty head. You've been sleeping on your stomach in an unsuccessful attempt to stave the pain away.

"Hello, beautiful."

He says it to get you smiling. It's not unlike him to compliment you, but he usually does it in subtler ways. You look great tonight, or, That's an amazing colour on you, honey. This saccharine greeting makes you huff a laugh, but the huff hurts you worse, a slice of pain from somewhere in your shoulder down to the small of your back.

"Oh, fuck," you sigh. Quiet, dragging, your voice shudders with pain.

Aaron's brows pinch together. "I'm gonna help you up, yes?"

"I can't get up."

"I don't want to patronise you, but you know staying in bed too long only makes it worse. I'm going to help you up and we'll take a short walk. A lap around the house, that's all."

You shake your head, emotion burning behind your eyes. "No, I really don't want to."

Aaron sits down carefully by your hip, a big hand needling between the bed and your stomach. It feels nice to be held like that. The other perches on your hip, close to the epicentre of your pain. That's not so nice.

"Can I turn you over?"

You sigh unhappily. "Yeah. Okay."

All his care, Aaron turns you on your back. He doesn't give you time to think before he helps you into a sitting position, humming empathetically at your pained hissing, "I know, I know. I'm sorry, I just don't want it to get worse."

"It's worse now," you panic, hot tears collecting in the corners of your eyes as you squeeze them tightly closed.

"I know… You're doing well."

"I'm not doing well! It really hurts, Aaron, it– it's really hurting, it won't stop," you say, trying not to move too much as you talk. You're breathless with pain, that shattering of discomfort glowing like glass shards somewhere under the skin.

"You're doing well, honey, I don't know what else to tell you. This is doing well, considering. I don't wanna force you up but I won't watch you get worse."

"Then don't watch," you mutter, bringing a hand up to your eyes.

"Do you think I have a choice?" he asks, no cruelty or derision as he rubs your thigh. "I couldn't walk away from you if I wanted to, and I don't want to. So don't let's argue, honey." His voice drops to a crooning murmur. "Don't be mean to me. I love you."

"Aaron…" You put the back of your hand to your forehead. You love him, you don't mean to be grumpy, and you know for a fact that he doesn't hold it against you —if there's one man who could say 'I won't walk away' and have you believe it, no question, it's him. "I'm not being mean."

"No? You don't think so?" he asks, leaning in a touch.

You offer him a kiss. Mean women don't give affection to their boyfriends. Pleased, Aaron kisses you softly with his hand creeping up toward your hip, cautious with his hands. He hasn't ever been rough with you.

"'Don't let's argue,'" you quote as his kiss moves to the corner of your mouth. "That's so old-fashioned."

Eyes closed, heads craned together, the air between you is warm. You almost forget the twinging pain wrapping around your coccyx. Almost.

"I am old-fashioned," he says simply. Having noticed that you're in pain, Aaron pulls back from you and stands up, offering his hands. "Come on, let's take a lap and I'll forget all about your being mean to me. I'll even make you lunch."

His sentence might incite enthusiasm, but you still struggle to stand, and while you're reassured he'll stay with you, he can't erase the pain with nice words. "Will you hold an ice pack on me?" you ask.

"Of course I will."

"Thank you… I love you, sorry I didn't say it back. I was in a mood, I think."

Aaron smiles at your on-the-nose joking. "I love you, too. Let's ask Jack to come and walk with you."

"I thought you were walking with me?" you ask, knowing from his smile alone that he's about to make a joke bordering on pert.

"Jack's more your speed, honey."

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #criminal minds #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble

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weirdly-specific-but-ok · 4 months

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hey maggots PLEASE CALM DOWN ONE MOMENT PRESS CONFERENCE.

Okay. Have we stopped screaming? Okay, nice. *taps mic* Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your--I mean, hi, Good Omens fandom and maggots. I was going to make a new intro post eventually, but after you all flattened my notes with eldritch screeching I think a press conference is more fitting. Especially considering the phrasing of these beauties:

Maggots I love you but look me in the eyes and tell me you're not journalists reporting straight to the Times, with full honesty. You cannot. The how do you feel about this is only missing several microphones with news outlet names all in my face and that's wonderful. Entirely valid. Press conference time it is.

First, for those of you who do not need a Q and A, a quick note: Um hello maggots, yes I am still grieving, cheers to the people who queued sad Good Omens posts for the exact time I finished watching. That is dedication, truly, to torturing your mascot. A most sincere fuck you to all of those kind folks.

Next, Neil, thank you for showcasing my madness. I barely remember making that updated post. It was 2 am and I tried to convince myself it was a bad idea. So of course I did it anyway and now I am staring in horror at how unhinged I have revealed myself to be. You picked the most perfectly awful time to delve into the fray. I raise my glass to you.

Alright. For everyone else who is utterly confused and/or has just entered this madness, below is the press conference you have instigated, my loves.

You: ASMI WAKE UP NEIL REBLOGGED YOU. Me: I'M AWAKE I PROMISE THANK YOU ALL THE TWENTY ODD PEOPLE WHO SHOUTED FOR ME TO WAKE UP, YES I WAS NAPPING. BUT I AM AWAKE. IT IS DIFFICULT NOT TO BE. You: HOW DOES IT FEEL BEING LESS THAN A MONTH IN THE FANDOM AND-- Me: I was kidnapped, so with the blindfold and all the ropes, I'll be honest, I lost track of time. It could have been less than a month. *stares into distance* It could have been eighty years since Jan 4th 2024. You: YOU'RE AN ADOPTIVE MAGGOT. Me: Now hang on one second y'all you're stealing my term. I coined maggots to describe all the people, in the Good Omens fandom or otherwise, who kidnapped me or followed me or watched me descend into madness. Why? Because I was made the Mascot of the fandom, and Maggot sounded like Mascot. Kind of. I didn't know at that time that there was a bloody maggot scene in Good Omens. I also didn't know that apparently in the Bible, Bildad the Shuite calls mortals 'maggots'. But either way. I'm the adopted mascot. And the adopted child of divorce. You: If people who follow you or watch your descent are maggots, does that make Neil a maggot? Me: Uh okay I've got this question several times. @neil-gaiman, Neil I'm sorry, I'm going to pass this question to you. You are free to reply or not as you choose. *hands one of the mics over* You: ARE YOU OKAY, ASMI? Me: THANK YOU FOR CHECKING IN. *clutches Crowley even closer* NO I AM BLOODY NOT. I'M ON DAY FOUR OF GRIEVING AFTER THE SECOND SEASON. ANY MENTION OF POTTED PLANTS MAKES ME EMOTIONAL. THE GOOD OMENS BOOK IS ARRIVING TODAY IN THE MAIL, THANKS JEFF BEZOS FOR AMAZON. OH WAIT AMAZON IS THE STREAMER FOR GOOD OMENS. THANKS BEZOS AGAIN. IF I HEAR THE WORDS RITZ, EDINBURGH, PLANT, RED, BLACK, DEMON, HELL, STARS, CONSTELLATIONS, ESPRESSO, I WILL START TO UGLY CRY. *SHOVES MICS ASIDE, RUNS THROUGH THE CROWD TO GO SOB IN A CORNER ABOUT CROWLEY IN EDINBURGH NEXT TO ELSPETH AND WEE MORAG UNTIL THE GOOD OMENS BOOK ARRIVES AND I CRY OVER MY BABY ANTICHRIST AS WELL*

Cheers everyone conference over because your poor Good Omens Mascot is currently incapacitated with grief goodbye I'm sure you understand--

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athanasius-symposium-of-writings · 3 months

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Strange Creature's Love

In honor of Ithaqua's release month (beta march 2 and release the 11th but that joseph's birthday lol). Small fic cause it really last minute but here's wonderwall lol

Rated Explicit | Warning: Ithaqua just that weird little guy

The first time you met Ithaqua, it was not during a match but a strange celebration. There are a few events in the manor that give hints to the passing of time here, and those are the ‘"Anniversary” events is one of them, but there is no number to them just like the New Year and Lunar New Year events. He was there watching, not one to approach others, much less socialize.

You only approached because he looked well small, not really that intimidating given he had no stilts or weapon in his hand.

You attempted conversion, figuring as someone new maybe he just was shy.

His words were rather… Odd, unsettling with a threat but a weird hint of something else.

You replayed those words over and over again in your mind, the strange phrasing.

“What exactly... are you looking forward to meeting? Ahh, I see, I see… I feel the same way.” Standing up and then invading your space, you are suddenly aware he still towers above you. You go still as his head tilts to the side like a curious owl, “The moment I met you... how about I make it so you can never say you want to meet anyone else again?” Your eyes drift to the two fingers lifting your chin up so your face is in him completely. “After all... I remember you very well.”

That freaked you out as you ran away when your fight or flight instincts kicked in hard.

The laugh he let out clearly mocking and one that haunted you as he suddenly became a frequent hunter in your matches.

The hyper fixation towards you is clear when he either took you out of the match quickly or saved you for last. A game of hunter and prey, he would stalk you before striking. Waiting if you give up or fight back.

A few times you surrender to avoid him when you only remain, but you always fight, giving your all to either find the dungeon or make it to the exit gate.

Strange looking back as he lays next to you holding your naked body against his body, his cloak covering both as the picnic blanket under you provides extra comfort. His breath is warm on your neck, steady, your hand stroking his messy blonde hair. This relationship sparked by a match where he only wanted you, anyone who got between that was hit yet not chased after.

He led you to the basement where he asked you simply to be his. No sweet words, no gift of romance, he was straightforward about what he wanted.

You agreed unsure, you thought it was a joke. Ithaqua was not joking, especially about his feelings.

Ithaqua hums when you seek out him to share warmth, he growls though when you moan as his cock is still buried inside of your filled hole.

“Careful.”

“Trying but it's cold.” Though spring is coming early this year, it is still cold. Ithaqua wanting to take you in the forest is losing its appeal. “Let’s go back to your room.” Mumbling when he holds you against his chest.

“My room?”

“Yeah, I want to be around you and all that is you, Ithaqua.” He has been to your room a number of times, rubbing his scent on your blankets and you before leaving like a creature. You have come to appreciate it when you have lonely nights.

“Hmm.” Hips his moving slowly, “Yes, after my cum drips down from your hole.”

“Ithaqua, oh!” Holding onto him as he suddenly keeps up the pace, your nails scratching deep into his already scratched-up back, “Ah, please, Ithaqua.”

“Begging yet I have no intention of denying you.”

He rarely does unless he wants to prolong the activity but normally he wants to give equally as he takes.

“Mine.” On top of you holding up and bending your legs to watch the cock disappear and reappear within you, “Yes.” Possessive, it scares you though not as bad as before.

“Ithaqua, God, so deep.”

He chuckles at your words, he likes it when you tell him how good you feel. A pride in being the one to have you crying out to the heavens the name of the Night Watch, to be giving of your love to freely, and to be thoroughly marked by him. It has a few times crossed his mind how he often fucks you enough as he is trying to breed you.

A thought that though he has no want for children, it amuses him how often you are equally eager for him and his cock.

“Ithaqua! So close.”

“Keep your eyes on me. I want to watch you fall.”

And you do, a cry of his name with your eyes barely able to lock on his and that taunt cord in the pit of your stomach snapping. You are disoriented and on cloud nine, whining as he keeps going. When the Night Watch is about to cum, he puts your legs over his shoulders as he goes essentially feral. Rutting into you like a beast in heat, snarling and saying at times worryingly possessive words— He has gotten better, but his passion runs deep in these moments.

You barely recover before cumming again with each other, his lips consuming yours to silence himself, your hands trying to grasp his face before he pulls away to soothe your aching legs. He keeps you connected to him until his cock softens and in his mind the idea of his seed taking, silly and foolish but it amuses him nonetheless.

#idv #reader insert #identity v x reader #idv x reader #identity v #identity v x you #idv x you #ithaqua x you #identity v ithaqua #ithaqua x reader #idv ithaqua #night watch x reader #night watch idv #night watch x you

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harmonictechnicality · 1 year

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my heart is my armor for @thefreakandthehair's Spicy Six Spring Challenge (mwah mwah!) | *ao3 link here*

Eddie doesn’t understand Steve’s sudden interest in having a garage sale. Everything that they own is junk disguised as furniture. None of it is worth looking at, let alone buying.

Besides, they don’t even have a garage. They’re still slumming it in this dingy duplex, too broke to afford decent cutlery.

“A garage sale with no garage is just false advertisement, babe.” Eddie flops onto his stomach, hears the boxsprings of their shitty mattress groan underneath him.

“We need to do some spring cleaning anyways.” Steve sinks his nails into Eddie’s hair, scratches at his roots the way Eddie likes it best. It’s all mindless now, physical affection. Five months ago, both of them would’ve been scared shitless to behave this way. Now, it’s easy.

Routine bliss.

“Might as well make a few extra dollars out of it.” Steve adds.

Eddie scoffs. Flattens his face into the mattress, ignores the questionable dude smell. “What the fuck is spring cleaning anyways?”

“Just a thing. Always has been.”

“Hmph.”

Spring cleaning sounds like a tradition that rich assholes invented as an excuse to throw away the winter jackets they never even wore - never even took the tags off of. Eddie can just imagine a gaggle of housewives, swishing their wine and speaking in some fake transatlantic accent: ‘Oh sweet darling lambchop, it’s not wasteful. It’s simply a bit of spring cleaning.’

“I never agreed to do spring cleaning.” Eddie says.

“You never agree to do cleaning, period.”

“That’s not true. I did the laundry last month.”

Which isn’t a lie. Eddie did three (two) loads of laundry after Steve refused to go anywhere near it. Claims that the final straw was seeing some sort of mutated rodent emerging from their hamper.

“Oh that?” Eddie had fished his brain for a plausible explanation. “That was just a mouse or a rat or a… miniature possum. Something like that.” At the time, he phrased the whole thing like the weirdest multiple choice quiz - the most suitable answer being Something Like That.

“Whatever.” Steve snorts, likely recalling that same night. He turns off the lamp, lets the dark bleed into the room, swallowing the light.

They both inch into the middle of the bed, where it’s naturally starting to dip at the center. All of their belongings are used, including this mattress. If money weren’t an issue, they would invest in a new one.

Or not. Eddie kind of likes that it sags in the middle, where they always meet. Like it’s giving in, shaping itself around the weight of their relationship.

The thought makes him smile, a stupidly smitten grin at his stupidly pretty boyfriend.

“What?” Steve pokes a finger at the corner of Eddie’s mouth.

“Nothing.” He catches Steve’s finger, pretends to gnaw it off his hand till Steve laughs. Best fucking sound, even better in their bed.

Christ, he’s so in love. Wants a megaphone to scream about how in love he is with Steve Harrington. Wants to call a local radio station and request the sappiest love songs imaginable. Wants to be able to just say it, then never stop saying it.

That feels colossal though. Like the playfulness will fizzle out or the blissful routine will rupture.

So he just says it in other ways, like tonight.

“Okay, fine. You win.” Which is a direct translation to those three important words, because Eddie hates losing. One of his top ten least favorite things in this world is losing.

He folds Steve’s fingers into a fist, kisses over every knuckle. Looks up to see Steve blinking slowly, half-asleep. Looks happy.

And damn, that makes it all worth it, right? Losing so Steve can win. That makes it tolerable, almost enjoyable, for a soft expression like that.

“I’ll do the non-garage garage sale.”

Steve yawns, nuzzles into his side of the pillow. “I knew you would.”

Eddie complains the entire time they clean. Makes the biggest fuss, stomps from room to room. Their place is small, sure. Yet somehow, they generate enough dust and dirt to fill multiple trash bags. Which means multiple trips to the dumpster.

Fuck Spring for making cleanliness a seasonal personality trait.

It’s late into the afternoon when they finally take a break. Both of them are pretty disgusting, so they sit on the front steps of the duplex.

“Quit scowling, you big baby.” Steve passes a glass of water to Eddie. Takes a long chug from his own glass, throwing his head back to get more down.

No human being has the right to look this sexy without proper legal representation. But Steve wears dirt and sweat like an accessory. Makes the grime so damn rugged, utterly hot.

Yeah. Eddie finally can relate to all the women that drool over erotica novel covers. Fully gets the appeal.

“So, find anything worth selling?” Steve asks.

“As a matter of fact, yeah. I did.”

Eddie reaches to his side and grabs a black binder: Steve’s baseball card collection. An extensive one at that.

He smooths over the plastic cover, fluttering his lashes up at Steve, who seems to be seconds away from hulking out over the suggestion.

“Oh fuck that, man!” Steve yanks the binder from Eddie’s hand. “I’ve had those since I was a kid!”

“Which is exactly why it’s time to retire them. Give them a new home. One that’s not a brothel for cockroaches.”

Really, Eddie gets far too much pleasure out of this. Watching people squirm under the uncomfortable magnifying glass of his sense of humor.

Steve cracks his neck to one side and snarls.

Ha. Perfect. Eddie has dwindled him down to nonverbal replies. Just caveman actions that are equally as sexy as the dirt and sweat.

But Steve throws a curveball, too quick to catch. He slips into the house and returns with one of Eddie’s favorite cups. “And what about these, huh? What about your dorky Star Wars glasses?”

Okay, ouch. This game is not funny anymore. Totally bypassed Humor and went straight to Dire territory.

Han may have shot first, but Steve Harrington is aiming where it hurts. Cutting him deep (deeper than that very unlucky tauntaun…).

“These are collectibles, Steven. Collectibles!” Eddie exaggerates every syllable, first-grade teacher style. “I spent two years tracking down the complete Empire Strikes Back set. Still missing three from Return of the Jedi, but whatever. Progress is progress.”

“What’s your point?”

“My point is, these are valuable.”

“Like, worth a lot of money?”

“No. You know what I mean…” Eddie stands. He carefully grabs the glass from Steve and holds it up to the sun.

All the designs are just as vibrant as the day he found them. Him and Wayne had searched almost a dozen Burger Kings before he found this design - the scene on Endor. Eddie will never forget that day.

“The memories.” He finally answers. “These are sentimental and shit.”

Steve hums, nodding. “They mean something to you.”

“Precisely.”

“Noted.” He takes the cup back inside. There’s silence for another minute before Steve lurks around the door, saying:

“Then I guess we’ll have to sell one of your guitars instead.”

Oh shit.

Another direct hit to Eddie’s blackened heart.

“You little fucker!” He chases Steve all around the kitchen and into their bedroom. Wrestles him down on their saggy bed, instantly dirtying up again.

They end up with a decent amount of items to sell that Saturday morning. Duplicate records and cassettes, a few kitchen gadgets from Steve’s grandma, and some trinkets that Robin kindly donated. A hodgepodge of treasures, that’s what Steve keeps saying.

He’s so proud of their three tables of junk. Hodgepodge treasures, whatever. Just keeps rearranging things and straightening them out. Concentrating so hard that his eyebrows crease together. Adorably focused. Eddie loves when he gets like this. If they weren’t in a conservative small town in broad daylight, he’d kiss Steve’s twisted-up lips, make him relax a little.

“I…” Eddie starts, quickly tripping on his own tongue. Stumbles over that dumb fucking word. Four letters should not hold the power of an entire emotion, goddamnit.

He scoots out of his lawn chair, stretching upward. “I think I’ll go pester the lemonade stand across the street. Haggle the price down to a penny or something.”

Steve huffs out a laugh. “You get more bizarre every day, Munson.”

“So does the economy, Harrington.”

The lemonade stand is an immediate mistake. A little girl peers up at Eddie, eyes starting to swell with tears. Maybe the clouds are casting a big, scary shadow over him, making him look twice as evil.

Or maybe he severely underestimated how badass his look really is, who fucking knows.

He dives right into his haggling-monologue, when the girl points to his latest Iron Maiden patch on his vest. Asks in the thinnest voice who the ‘skeleton man’ is.

And look, Eddie doesn’t mess around when it comes to educating this fine nation’s youth. So he answers honestly:

“Eddie the Head. A vessel for soul-sucking metal.”

The answer is probably what makes her run. But it’s definitely the voice that opens up the floodgates.

Anyways, he’s not just gonna let all this freshly-squeezed goodness go to waste. That would be a shame. A travesty, even.

So he helps himself to two full cups of lemonade. Makes a quick escape before the kid’s parents bring pitchforks.

Eddie sneaks up behind Steve, whispers nervously in his ear. “Well… there’s good news and there’s bad news.”

“What did you do?” Steve doesn’t miss a beat.

“I got the lemonade for free.” He hops up on the table, waves the proof around with a big, cheesy grin. Still no reaction from Steve, so what the hell? Might as well get all the information out there.

“Bad news is, I made the pigtailed kid cry.”

“Dude!”

“It’s not my fault!” Eddie is suddenly very defensive. “She asked who this ‘skeleton man’ on my vest is and I couldn’t lie.”

“You lie about shit all the time.”

“Not about history, Steve! Get your head out of your perfectly-shaped ass.”

Steve puts his hand over Eddie’s mouth, gesturing to the nearby shoppers. Not that Eddie is overly concerned about what the elderly couple can hear from this distance. And he assumes that the suspender-wearing dude admiring the Barry Manilo record, would probably agree on his Ass Opinions.

However, Steve is shrinking further into his chair from Eddie’s commentary. Grunting something unintelligible but mostly likely explicit.

“Here.” Eddie determines that the safest solution is to back down. Ease off until Steve’s complexion returns to normal colors. “You can have the lemonade that isn’t diluted with the tears of a child.”

Steve laughs into the cup and takes a long swig. Chases it with an exaggerated ‘aaah’ like all of those airbrushed models do in the commercials.

Eddie is just so damn crazy about this guy. Would drink a thousand tear-soaked beverages for Steve if it meant getting to experience every day just like this. With a smile like that.

“How is it?” Steve asks.

“Tastes like citrus and fear.” Eddie responds proudly with a wink.

There’s a pause before they both erupt into laughter. Steve slapping Eddie’s knee rather than his own. Eddie snorting like a sitcom dweeb. He’s laughing so hard that he almost misses Steve uttering the most incredible sentence:

“God, I love you.”

Says it just like that. Clear as water. Easier than oxygen. Like he has told Eddie that very phrase a thousand times before.

And Eddie… Eddie can’t locate a single word in his brain. His access to language is padlocked after hearing that. Experiencing that.

All he can do is move. Move away from the table. Move behind the clothing rack full of used jackets. Move his arms outward, pulling Steve along with him.

He kisses Steve before he does something stupid like scream or flail around. If he’s going to open his big mouth, it’s going to be against Steve’s lips. Licking the drops of lemon clean off his mouth. Pushing his linen-soft hair back and holding it between his fingers.

They’re obscured by clothes and scarves, but it’s risky. Too risky to linger into a deeper kiss like Eddie craves to do. So he lets go of this moment and ducks into the house to catch his breath.

The rest of the day goes by at hyper speed, too fast to notice details. Not that anything could possibly top hearing Steve say what he said. It’s tattooed deep into everything Eddie hears, permanently inked in his mind.

Once they head back inside, Steve flicks through the wad of cash, counting their profit. It’s not much, merely pocket change - but certainly more than either of them expected. Eddie chalks up the surprising amount to Steve's charm and short-shorts. The yummiest eye-candy of the whole damn neighborhood.

“We should save up for a trip.” Steve suggests.

Eddie raises his brows. “A trip?”

“A vacation. You know, get away from this shithole town for a weekend.” The more he talks, the more Steve’s face glows. Fucking shines with daydreams. “A change of scenery might be nice.”

Eddie holds back the urge to remind Steve that he’s the best scenery in the solar system. He already gushes too much, too often. It’s bound to scare Steve off at some point.

So he simply kisses Steve’s shoulder instead, agreeing with a soft hum.

He starts to fall asleep while listening to Steve name all the places they should travel to. The last one he remembers is Boston.

“Boston would be fucking awesome, right?”

Eddie nods. Drifts off.

Thinks that anywhere with Steve Harrington would be fucking awesome.

Eddie heads up north for a couple of weeks to help Wayne move into his new place. Since Hawkins was previously sliced apart like pizza, Wayne wisely decided to retire early. Used his government hush-money in the most predictable way he could.

“All I need, son, is an empty mind and lake full of fish.” And that’s exactly what he gets. A one-story house near the top of Lake Michigan. Has one hell of a view too.

They head out to the private dock to chat and fish. Except Eddie isn’t too keen on jabbing sharp metal into a water-dweller’s mouth, so he keeps Wayne company on the dock. Lends an ear for all of his stories.

“Shame that Steve couldn’t make it.” Wayne waits to bring him up till they start packing up for the evening.

“Yeah. It is.” Eddie agrees. Misses him already. “Next time though.”

During his last weekend with Wayne, a package arrives on the front porch. It’s addressed to Eddie, which is strange. The only people that know he’s here are his boyfriend, his bandmates, and his boss. More than likely, Steve probably told their crew of demon-destroyers too, but still…

Why would anyone bother to send him a package if he’s driving back home in three days? Doesn’t add up.

He cuts into the cardboard, practically ruins the box. Inside, there’s an absurd amount of tissue paper. It’s stuffed in every corner, overflowing at the top, just a sea of noisy paper.

“Whatcha got there?” Wayne peers over his shoulder.

“Not sure yet.” Eddie sifts through the noise. Digging around more carefully now because he takes notice of the ‘Fragile’ labels on every side of the box.

He pulls out one of the overly-wrapped items, begins removing it from the tissue paper. After twirling through a few layers, he realizes exactly what it is.

Glass. Colorful designs. Fits in the palm of his hand.

The Star Wars cups. The last three Star Wars cups that had been missing from Eddie’s collection.

“No fucking way.”

“Watch it.” Wayne warns.

“It’s a warranted response, I promise.” Eddie hands the pristine Darth Vader glass over to Wayne. “Look!”

Wayne examines it for a while before letting out a long whistle. “Well I’ll be damned. Haven’t you been looking for these since-”

“1983.” Eddie answers. He gently picks up each glass, thumbs over the artwork to feel the tiny ridges of paint.

They’re in perfect condition too, more than perfect. No chips, no blemishes, no smudgy fingerprints (except for Eddie’s now). He has to place them back into the box because his hands are shaking with excitement. Smooths his palms against his jeans, head shaking in disbelief.

“That romantic asshole.” Eddie grumbles. “Couldn’t just wait to give me these once I get back home.”

Wayne cuts him a vicious side-eye, one that makes Eddie’s spine shiver. He's received this look many times throughout his childhood, even more in his teenage years. It’s Wayne’s signature stare before he calls Eddie out on his bullshit.

Apparently, it still has the same effect on him too. Works like witchcraft.

Wayne looks over the gifts, then back up at Eddie. His edge melts away, turns into something softer. Kinder.

“You know… some things can’t wait, son.”

With that, the tension in Eddie’s spine unravels. His chest inflates, warming up a few extra degrees. His whole body knows exactly what he needs to do - the thing that can’t wait another second.

The phone only rings through one time.

“This is Steve.” That voice. Hits like a homemade remedy.

“Hey, it’s Eddie.” His nails are tapping next to the phone speaker, rapid and impatient. “Listen, I just got your package and-”

“Oh, god.” Steve sounds pained all of a sudden. “Was it too much? Is it gonna be too difficult to transport back home? I know it would’ve just been easier to wait, except-”

“I love you.”

There it is. The words that can’t wait. The phrase that demands power.

“You… what?”

“I love you. Just, so much.” Eddie feels lighter, weight lifting from his lungs each time he says it. “And I couldn’t wait another second to tell you. So, yeah. Really, really in love with you, Steve.”

All Eddie can hear is Steve’s breath. Just as rapid as his nails tapping.

“Wow… um.” Steve clears his throat, but the sound comes out small. Strained. “Do you mind if I call you right back?”

Not the response Eddie was expecting. “Oh. Uh.”

“Just - hold on a sec.”

And the line clicks dead.

After the third hour of organizing pans in the kitchen, the only room close enough to launch himself at the phone if it were to ring, Eddie accepts defeat. Retreats to the guest bedroom, contemplating what the fuck went wrong.

He groans into the bedspread, claws at his hair till it’s a fucking jungle. Frizzed out beyond repair, just like his nerves.

“That’s enough moping.” Wayne knocks at the door, creaking it open. “We’re going down to the lake.”

There’s no point in arguing with him. The man is the human embodiment of Stubborn - more so than Eddie, which speaks volumes.

Besides, moping in a different location won’t make him any less pathetic.

Wayne is a master in the art of distraction. Doesn’t waste any time before telling Eddie all about the local gossip he overhears downtown. He quickly transitions into asking Eddie questions about his job. Continues this pattern till the sun falls into the horizon. Not allowing Eddie’s mind the chance to jump to conclusions until they get back to the house. To the phone.

The phone that’s still not ringing.

Wayne nudges Eddie’s arm. “Wanna give him a call?”

Yes. Desperately yes.

“Maybe. Gonna go change first.”

Eddie opens the door to the guest bedroom, and his lungs slingshot out of his chest.

Steve is there. Sitting on the bed. Looking at him with that knockout smile and slightly tired eyes.

“Hi.” He sits up a little straighter. Gives Eddie the tiniest wave.

“You’re… you-”

“Caught the first flight out here.” Steve cuts him off. “Had to.”

“How?”

“The vacation cash jar.”

No no no.

Eddie’s throat feels swollen with that realization. Knows just how fucking much that potential trip to Boston meant to Steve.

“But-”

“Please don’t be mad.”

“I’m not, I’m not.” Eddie spits out. Needs to swallow this barrier of emotion in his throat so he can form an actual sentence, for christ’s sake. “Fuck. You just… have no idea how much I love you.”

Steve perks up even straighter, seems fully awake now. His smile creeps up to one side of his face, outright mischievous. He tilts his head to the side and holds an arm out, reaching for Eddie.

“Get over here and show me then.”

In one fluid motion, Eddie lands on the bed, draped in Steve’s arms. They kiss and cling to each other as if they might float off somewhere. It’s all too good, too delicious. Just can’t get enough of how Steve tastes, needs to savor it after not having him around for ten days.

Being under the covers, kissing wildly, is becoming dangerous. And if Wayne weren’t in the room directly across from them, Eddie would have Steve in unspeakable positions by now. Steve tugs multiple times at the zipper on Eddie’s jeans. Causes physical damage to Eddie’s horny soul to pull Steve's hand away.

They stay like this instead. Leisure, molasses kisses. Knotted fingers and tangled legs. Closer than skin.

Steve lifts up onto his elbow, swipes Eddie’s bangs off of his forehead to make room for another place to kiss. “Can’t believe it took a few dorky cups to make you realize you were in love with me,” he says, lips still smushed in that spot before backing away.

Eddie flips onto his back with a heavy sigh. No way he can look at Steve’s face while admitting this outloud. “I’ve loved you since the day you fed me a curly fry that you had twisted around your pinky.”

“That was the moment?”

“That was the moment.”

He can hear the smile in Steve’s voice. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Never gonna dodge that ‘freak’ reputation, am I?”

“Not a chance.”

The sky is dusted with stars that night. Not the kind of night sky they ever get to see in Hawkins. Steve marvels at them, mentions that he’s never seen so many at once, not even through a window.

“We could go outside?” Eddie offers. “See even more, if you want.”

“Fuck that.” Steve burrows his nose into Eddie’s neck. “Too comfy.”

Eddie agrees with a laugh. “It’s a good bed, isn’t it?”

“Ours is better.”

It’s not, it’s really not. Their bed is rotting, the oldest relic of their home.

But it bends with them, forms to their bodies perfectly.

And since this bed has yet to learn their language, Eddie takes the lead.

“You’re right.” He curls himself around Steve. Leans in closer and Steve follows. “Ours is definitely better.”

Even miles away from home, they somehow always manage to meet in the middle.

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #lexsspringfanworkschallenge #I hope y'all like this one :)#it's still snarky but also cozy #and I definitely went overboard on the Star Wars jokes at one point #but yeah please enjoy this spring fic 💕

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bloodynereid · 3 months

Text

Zodiac Suite

pairing: robert 'rosie' rosenthal x fem! reader

tw: mentions of war, alcohol drinking, mentions of smoking, a whole lot of fluff

description: when rosie finds someone who loves jazz just as much as him.

a/n: ok so this was a complete and utter self indulgent fic because i am obsessed with mary lou williams and im now headcanoning the fact that rosie also loves her. SO some random little research details that i found really cool: mary lou williams first performed 'zodiac suite' in 1945, the café society was a real place from 1938-48 and it was located in new york, mary lou williams used to perform a lot there (there's a whole lot of pictures online if anyone's interested) AND a little tidbit i found about real life rosie is that he went back to europe to prosecute the nazis after the war! isn't he really cool??? oh and this is all based off the tv show character, not the actual person. and i would recommend listening to the album (it's free on spotify + youtube) while reading if you can.

Rosie felt right at home at the busy night club, the smoke from many lit cigarettes and the scotch rushing through his veins combined with the dulcet tones of jazz almost made him forget that he had been at war just a few months ago.

Settling back into civilian life hadn’t been the easiest but times like these made him feel like he was okay again. Café Society was a place he used to go to quite a lot before the war, just to take in the ambience and have a stiff drink. Now it had become his refuge once again, tonight one of his favorite pianists was performing.

Mary Lou Williams was an absolute genius and her work didn’t just sound good, it sounded great. She was in the middle of performing her Zodiac Suite, one of the things that made Rosie feel like he had done his job right, because if music, art, could continue undisturbed by those Nazi bastards then it was all worth it.

“God, she’s incredible isn’t she?” A voice from next to brought him out of his reverie, making Rosie turn to the sound of that beautiful voice. A woman was standing next to him with a dazed smile on her face, she looked completely entranced in the music. Rosie was sure he had been mirroring her expression exactly just a few moments ago.

“She really is.” Rosie said, his attention now completely on you. The sound of his voice had you jumping and turning to look at him, it was now obvious you hadn’t meant to say that outloud as you looked a little scandalized.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry for disturbing you, sometimes I get too lost in the music and… well I seem to lose control of my mouth.” You utter the last phrase with a slightly nervous laugh and a few stuttered words but Rosie already felt like he was entranced with you.

“Don’t worry about it, ma’am. It happens to me as well on occasion.”

“Jesus, please don’t call me ma’am. Makes me sound like my mother.” You seemed to have overcome the earlier shyness, which made Rosie’s mouth twitch into an even wider smile.

“Well now I think I should be the one apologizing, sweetheart.”

“I forgive you… but only if you tell me your name.”

“That one is just too easy, Rosie Rosenthal, at your service.”

“Rosie?”

“The air force has a way with nicknames. Now I think I’m owed a name as well?” You smiled and quickly said your name before taking a sip of the drink in your hand. A gin and tonic by the looks of it.

“A beautiful name for a beautiful lady.”

“Are all pilots such flatterers?”

“Only the best ones.” You hummed back in mock suspicion which had Rosie smiling so hard he probably looked like a mad man. The sounds of piano seemed to seep into the comfortable silence and you turned back to the stage, Rosie felt a wave of regret rush over him until he noticed you were moving closer to him so the fabric of your clothes brushed against his.

Rosie moved the glass from his left hand to his right and also turned back to look at the stage, but not before leaning closer to you too. Letting his hand carefully trail along the length of your arm.

A smile crept up on your face and you once again scooted closer to him. You both kept up this little game as you listened to the entracing jazz music, stealing little glances at each other but never meeting each other’s eyes. It was as if you were both encased in your own little bubble.

When the set finished and everyone started applauding and cheering, you finally met Rosie’s eyes. He looked at you with admiration as you laughed and clapped.

“She really is incredible, isn’t she?” He asked, echoing your first words back to you once the din had died down.

“She really is.” You responded before taking a step forward and placing a quick peck on his cheek and uttering a quick goodbye before disappearing into the crowd.

Rosie returned to Café Society the next night, hoping to get a glimpse of you in the same crowd you had vanished into the night before. And he wasn’t disappointed when he saw you sitting at one of the tables at the edge of the room. Two drinks sat in front of you, a scotch and a gin and tonic. Rosie felt a buzz of electricity run through his body when he realized that you had been waiting for him. He saw as you turned your head towards him and a smile blossomed on your face.

“Rosie! I saved you a seat!”

It was a quiet night, at least as quiet as it can be in a big city. Rosie had just gotten back from Europe and he felt at ease once again. As he always did when he was around you.

Your legs were intertwined with his on the red couch you had gone hunting for in one of the little out of the way shops that Brooklyn had. You each had a book in hand and the sounds of a familiar jazz album suddenly crackled onto the radio. Your heads snapped up when you realized that Mary Lou Williams’ Cancer was playing.

“Rosie…”

“Yes, darling?”

“It’s our album.” Rosie looked down at you from where you were lying on his lap. A giddy smile was on your face and he echoed back that smile right back at you.

“It sure is.”

“I’m rather glad I met you.”

“I’m rather glad I fell in love with you, sweetheart.” Rosie answered with a note of adoration in his voice, looking at you as if you hung the very stars in the sky.

“I sure hope you are, because I love you more.”

“Oh I don’t think so.” Rosie deposited his book on the arm of the sofa before assaulting you with tickles, making your laugh ring out into the night. A sound that perfectly complemented the jazz that was still filtering out of the radio.

also... if anyone by any chance finds a vinyl copy of Zodiac Suite anywhere pls lmk. ive been scouring the internet for the past few months and have found nothing. hope you enjoyed and pls lmk your thoughts or asks, i don't bite!!

#robert rosenthal #robert rosie rosenthal #rosie rosenthal #robert rosenthal x reader #rosie rosenthal x reader #masters of the air #mota fanfic #mota spoilers #masters of the air x reader #rosie x reader #masters of the air fic

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kitchenisking · 6 months

Text

Sterek Fic Rec

It's the first night of chunnuka! Enjoy!

Alpha's Heat by TombRaider008 - (Rating: Mature, Words: 1,192, sterek)

Stiles finds Derek in his bedroom. In heat. Wearing his batman boxer briefs, sniffling his used lacrosse jersey and dry humping the living daylights out of his bed. Sexy times ensured.

suck it, pup by DenaCeleste - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 843, sterek)

Stiles has an oral fixation, and Derek has something pretty specific in mind for his pup's enjoyment.

Katoptronphilia by ItsMe_Basil - (Rating: Mature, Words: 2,007, sterek)

"Oh, my god," he mewled, back arching. The hand around his throat tightened and a growl reverberated against him, in his ear, through his skin.

"Are you looking?" Derek asked. Stiles nodded, a reedy moan pulled from his mouth as Derek let his thumb drag over the head before moving down to the base once more.

"Look at how pretty you react to my touch," Derek continued. "I made that blush."

The words were whispered against the shell of Stiles' ear. "I made you hard and desperate, leaking."

Taking Care by RisingQueen2 (FallenQueen2) - (Rating: Mature, Words: 3,907, sterek)

When Derek finds out what Peter offered to Stiles and what Gerard really did to him in that basement, it caused him to finally act on his feelings for Stiles.

Get You The Moon by AClosedFicIsNeverRead - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 180,785, sterek)

Derek looked up in surprise to note that they were taking a private jet. Dread settled into his gut like a stone. “It has a cage, doesn’t it?” he asked quietly, and noted the subtle changes in his family members’ posture. “Is it for me?” Cora gave him a pleading look and nodded. “Is it because of what you’re going to tell me?” he asked, voice like gravel. Another nod confirmed it. Stiles. Oh, GOD. It had to be Stiles. Derek would not lose control over anyone else in Beacon Hills and they damned well knew it.

- OR -

The one where Derek has been gone for 6 months building a new life, finds out that Stiles is being assaulted by Theo, so he comes back to Beacon Hills to kick some serious ass and rescue the loudmouthed human who stole his heart.

(You will need ALL the tissues, but it will have a happy ending by the time all is said and done!)

Title inspired by song: ‘Get You The Moon’ by Kina ft. Snow

A Perfect Bait For A Knotty Wolf by KnottheWolf - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 3,062, sterek)

Day 9: Feral- “Let me just get this straight. You want me to become your feral Alpha werewolf nephew’s chew toy?”

Peter stroked his chin, “Honestly, I was going for the phrase bed warmer, but you often squeak like a little chew toy. So yes, I want you to be his chew toy. Unless however you want a bullet in your head?”

bad habits (i do em all for you) by nymphe - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 4,879, sterek)

wherein: stiles is sexually frustrated, stiles gets a vibrator stuck in his ass, stiles calls derek to help him with it, there's some kink discovery, a few orgasms, and some feelings. yep, that's about it.

it's just business by To_fill_the_sea - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 2,626, sterek)

Derek has been running a successful company for a long time and finally orchestrated a merger with another company. It has been eating up more time than he'd like and he just wants to spend some time at home. But people keep getting in his way and certain people are going to very surprised when Derek;s boyfriend decides to pop in for a surprise visit.

day of discovery by insert pseud here (EvanesDust) - (Rating: Not Rated, Words: 100, sterek)

...the one where they figure out Eli's a werewolf.

Down On My Knees by SophieTrancy - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 10,479, sterek)

Inspired by a Tumblr post by hoechloin. Contains major Teen Wolf 6x19 spoilers.

Chris came looking for Derek, hell bent on convincing the wolf to come back. But, unless Stiles needed him there, he wasn't interested.

"If I go back, it's not for Beacon Hills" Derek said, turning to look at the former Hunter "It's for Stiles" That is, until he truly understands just how fucked they are.

"You haven't heard, then" Chris spoke, watching as Derek arched his brows at him "That's weird, I always thought the kid was the only one who actually had a way to reach you" Chris said, chuckling to himself.

So Derek goes back, thinking Stiles was finally safe, away from Beacon Hills. But he was right to assume it wouldn't last long, of course he was. Stiles was his mate, after all, he should've known better. Things don't go according to plan, despite their best efforts. And it's like time stopped for Derek, watching as Stiles' body fell to the floor.

Originally posted on tumblr.

#sterek #derek hale #fanfiction #stiles stilinski #stiles x derek #kitcheniskingficrecs #ficrec #fanfic

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 4 months

Note

AITA for outing my sisters (SECOND) pregnancy and causing drama

I (20f) am aware that accidents happen, but she doesn't even know the man to her (22f) first (thusly no child support is involved in this equation). Discovery of this information is due to me being the one that does the bathroom trash. It was... not well hidden, to say the least.

Pure flavor and context, our relationship would be less rocky if she had any sense of responsibility at all. From 15 onwards constantly out of money yet up the ass of every hangout/party in town, constantly trying to make it anyone else's job to keep her entertained. Has very much dropped out of college for #1.

But, actual event wise... I get to the trash can, and I'm thinking... oh god, not again. And so soon? Because baby #1 is about 10 months (male if it matters) at sending. Mom has already bent over backwards to handle this without destroying *my* attempts at college, and there's not a doubt in my mind my sister would have gladly gone "Surprise! Not my problem now🎊! " if I'd given her the space to do so.

Phrasing it like that feels mean, but it's been 98% mom doing it all. Diapers, feedings, you name it. If it's not cute enough for social media my sister has not put her hands on it. In my moms fantasy world this was to give my sister the chance to go back to the local college.

Now at first I didn't actually plan to say much of anything. It just... seemed risky in a way I didn't want the backlash for. But a friend of mine and her girlfriend were moving, and their planned roommate bailed, and I do very much have a job an can pay rent. The nitty gritty is way more complicated than that but I'm trying to not bog this down.

I waffle for a couple of days as I process the whole thing but I commit to thinking later and acting now about moving and by what's month 1.75 I'm planning what posters of mine to take/leave. There's been a second confirming test popping up in the trash.

I have to tell my mom, finally, that in three weeks to a month I'm gone. Slightly unsurprisingly, I get asked "Well, why? Why now?"

I did kind of think through it in advance, but honestly every other small reason just... left me? I choked HARD and y'all know the blank "ohshit" moment where you've got Nothing.

It was a messy conversation and I'm skipping a lot, but thankfully dad and sis were out to not hear it. She didn't fully believe me until I walked out the door to the new appartment, and it didn't end there technically, but I just sorta grey rocked it with the sole give that I think mom is going to collapse over this because she's not twenty some anymore chasing *us*, and I think mom wasn't processing it either until I was out the door.

Final stage, I've packed and am seconds from leaving. Mom asks one final question of "What exactly would you suggest here, if it's real, then" in that tone where it's not about getting real answers, it's about shaming me. She is scathingly told to make my sister homeless about it if she doesn't abort, so that it'll maybe motivate her to at least get child support if not put a stop to the slope of shitting them out like litters.

Roommates are fine thus far, but I'm introverted and don't really leave my room unless I need something so the space for conflicts are minimal. So I'm a week into the new apartment (thusly she's 3 to 3.25 months pregnant) when I get a heated, ranting phone call. I sure hope you can figure out who's calling that's *mad*.

First of all apparently I'm a cunt for taking the joy of announcement away from my, as she tried and got "We know." Because that is so fucking important for a college drop out on kid #2 to have, apparently.

More interestingly I'm apparently a double cunt because mom had been toying with asking me for rent, as my sister doesn't work either and babies are expensive. This was not aired to me by mom herself, but even if I hadn't asked her myself afterwards I wouldn't have doubted that part.

And I'm apparently a mega triple cunt, because (as I turned around to interrogate mom about because. What?) mom had a crystalizing moment where it did very much click to her that my sister had no intentions of stepping up in anyway shape or form. Why she's jumped straight to "you abort or gtfo" like I suggested to be an asshole didn't get cleared up to me beyond "No, no. You're right. Responsibility must be taken."

A different friend has asked where the fucks my dad in this; spinless with no opinion because if he dares to dissent he'll implode. Moving on.

I think that while I might have jumped sharks everyone else is now on a plane of drama that I don't need to follow, and should in fact be kept the fuck out of. I also think I've also hit an anger stage of this whole situation so trust in my own narrative should be cautious.

I'm gonna, like, pause the emotional train here? And mention that I'm not asking about moving out. I'll be guilty about moving out specifically when my sister sucks my dick for forgiveness (note my 20f label). But this has dropped an emotional bomb in the family and my friend groups interconnected enough that they'd've heard about it even if I said nothing, and this is now hotly debated (and most of my friends are on mute on my phone lol), and by now it's no secret the ''make her homeless'' idea first came out of MY mouth, no matter how mortifying it is that it was taken seriously on impulse arguing about it is about seven steps behind where the debate needs to be.

Again, I'm at the point of anger feeling good. She gets irresponsibly knocked up once already, drops out of college and refuses to get a job, and then runs off and does it again after dumping all real work onto other people. I think she's lost the right to have happy fun time pregnancy, and I'm here to get a (late) opinion from people decidedly more objective than anyone I can speak to rn. It's not like the pregnancy won't be here in the time this takes to move through queue.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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aurorawritestoescape · 7 months

Text

SURVEILLANCE

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (in established relationships with m!oc/not named)

Summary: Javier's been surveilling your boyfriend and has to listen to everything you two are saying. And doing. So one day he does something really unprofessional.

Tw: 🔞mdni smut voyeurism, m!masturbation, Javi is a little obsessed with you, dirty talk, lots of horny daydreaming, piv, threesome, dp, breeding kink, swearing, lmk if I missed something

Word count: 1,8k

A/n: gif by @azertyrobaz Thank you @milla-frenchy for helping me find the perfect gif and your undying support🫂😘

Javier is sitting at his desk in the office, fiddling with the headset cord and staring at the photo of you peeking out of a folder. He sees just the top of your head and your eyes. Your gorgeous eyes looking up and to the side at someone next to you. They’re full of love, affection and something animalistic, instinct induced. He wishes you were looking at him like that.

The DEA has been surveilling you for almost a month. Well not you but your dickhead of a boyfriend. He was one of Escobar’s people, just a middle man, but they believed that they could gather some useful information by closely monitoring him and his associates. The DEA began direct surveillance - tailing him and you, taking pictures and documenting everything. They also bugged your boyfriend’s place and could hear everything that was said and done there.

Usually surveillance was a tiring and boring process, like searching for a gold nugget in a huge pile of dirt. But not this time. Not with you involved.

When they began the operation Javier tried to stay impartial to you as well as everything and everyone connected to the target. For some fucking reason he couldn’t do that. When he heard your voice, the way you talked and carried yourself something woke up inside him. Something that was dormant and pushed out of his life, again and again. He heard your voice and remembered himself younger, longing to touch and be touched, yearning for connection, as well as passion and lust. His desires were satiated by meaningless hookups, fleeting affairs suffocated by the amount of stressful work. Javier liked it this way, as he didn’t see himself settling down for a quiet family life.

And then he heard your voice. Soft and quiet, yet powerful in its seductive beauty.

They all took shifts to listen in on your boyfriend and you every morning, day and night. Javier couldn’t miss anything as every minor detail could lead to a breakthrough. The first time you two had sex he had to listen.

To Javi’s surprise you loved talking during sex. The dirtiest phrases were flying into his ears and straight to his cock. “Si, papi! Like that, grab my tits. Oh yes, fuck me harder.” He had to adjust himself several times and couldn’t wait to leave work to visit one of his prostitutes.

The second time he realized where it was going by the kissing noises so he took off the headset and waited for you to finish. He felt dirty and creepy listening and getting turned on.

Instead he took more direct surveillance shifts following you two and that’s where another trap was waiting for him. On top of your filthy little mouth and banging body you turned out to be nice. Lovely even. You would help your elderly neighbours, look after your little sister whenever your parents asked and glow with genuine happiness playing with her in the park. He saw you talking to the other kids there, giving your warmth generously to them and his lips would involuntarily curl up in a smile. For a second or longer Javier imagined you pregnant with his child, carrying his love inside you. Your belly round under that summer dress, breasts spilling out of the neckline, ripe and ready to feed his child. He saw the moment he’d put his seed into you - your legs on his shoulders, him folding you in half by his weight, thrusting his cock deep and hard. He’d pump you full of his hot cum and leave his cock inside you for a night so it would stick. He’d have a family with you. He’d have you.

Javier wasn’t delusional, he knew you weren’t his. And you seemed to really love your boyfriend. Yet the son of a bitch surely didn’t deserve the way you looked at him.

When Javi was the one to tail you two he easily could spot the desire on your pretty face, your cheeks flushed, eyes blown out, chest heaving. You seemed insatiable, always hungry for a touch, a kiss. You’d hold your boyfriend’s hand walking down the street, rest your head on his shoulder standing in a queue, grind against his body dancing in a bar. You were gorgeous.

The nights out were the worst. You always wore a skimpy dress showing off your soft curves, or a pair of tight jeans hugging your butt perfectly. The way you danced drove Javier insane - your hips swaying with the beat, hands snaking up and down your body, touching yourself in all the places Javi wanted to kiss and lick you. He imagined being there with you, pressing his broad chest to your back, holding your waist close to him and kissing your neck, you two moving rhythmically with the music. He’d take your chin in his hand to make you look at him and kiss you, squeezing your breast and pushing his hard-on in between your asscheeks. He’d take you home and rip the clothes off you like a wolf impatient to devour a bunny. He’d suck, bite and then kiss better every inch of your sweaty body until you begged him to fuck you. He’d smirk and place his hands on your inner thighs pushing them open and lowering his face to your pussy, “Papi’ll make you come a few times first, how about that?”

Javi rubs his face as the slapping sounds in his ears get louder. He leans back in his chair and lifts the hips to ease the pressure on his aching cock. He already feels the dampness on his skin. He must have been leaking precum for some time now. You’ve been making out probably on your bed, your soft whimpers slowly hardening his cock. Javier drops his head back with a deep sigh and closes his eyes. You’re full on moaning in his headphones now and he adjusts them to hear you better. His mind tells him that he needs to stop, get out of here, have a smoke. But then the image of you appears behind his eyelids, so clear and vivid that his breathing hitches for a moment. His imagination feeds on the way you sing right into his ears and Javier sees you caged in by his own body, squirming and pleading, “Fuck me, Javi. Te necesito.”

The sounds you’re making being used by another man’s cock shoot straight to his member. He’s throbbing for you, he can already feel the pulsations against his skin.

Javier can’t take it anymore. The desire seems so powerful it burns like fire behind his eyelids. He opens his eyes and looks down at his huge bulge. His hand slides down to his crotch and he palms himself through the jeans.

“Your cock’s so big, papi! My little pussy can barely take it.”

Filthy girl! A moan escapes his lips joining the one you’re making in his headphones.

He quickly bites his lip to shut himself up. Fortunately everyone’s left for the day, but he’s still at work. Javier undoes the zipper and his cock springs out of its confines and bobs dripping on Javi’s shirt. He curses seeing a few wet spots staining the fabric. He hastily takes a hold of his weeping member keeping it head up and spreads the liquid left over the tip with his thumb.

“Rub my clit, papi, yes, like this, wanna come on your big dick,” you whine with need in your voice and Javier groans as another drop of precum beads and then slides down on his hand. His arousal mixes with anger. Why is it affecting him that much? He’s not a fucking teenager getting a boner every time he sees a pretty girl. Why did his dick take over his mind and senses? “Pendejo!” Javier lets go of his cock and gives it a slap on its side with an open palm. His stiff cock is swaying from side to side and Javi snarls watching it grow even bigger. The pain adds to the pleasure and the need becomes unbearable. He gives in.

Javier spits into his hand and starts off slow, jerking his length with short strokes feeling its hot soft skin under his calloused hand.

“Can I suck on your thumb, papi, while you’re fucking me? I miss your cock in my mouth.”

You cry out the fucker’s name after a hard thrust and then your sounds are muffled apparently by the finger in your mouth. First Javi drives away the thoughts of the other man. He shuts his eyes seeing you again in his mind but with his cock buried deep inside your glistening pussy, his balls hitting your ass as your breasts are bouncing after every slam of his hips. Javi’s mind is on fire and his hand starts moving faster. Up and down, up and down. He twists his wrist from time to time and he hears that you’re close too. He wants to jump into the abyss together with you, and listens carefully, concentrates on your breathing, trying not to miss that sweet sound, a tell of your climax hitting you. He’s heard it many times by now and imagined it even more, alone in his bed, in the shower, even with another woman. That sound pushes him over every time, makes his cock erupt on his hand or in another pussy. He's pumping his cock vigourously, roughly without pity. He hears the other man’s groans as the fucker must be close as well. At the back of his mind Javi registers how hot this forbidden threesome is. He can’t help but see the three of you in a bed together. Your body splayed over your boyfriend’s, front up and Javi’s between your gorgeous legs. Two cocks sliding into your little pussy at the same time making you whine and grip the sheets. He’d bend over to take your nipple into his mouth and after finding a steady rhythm, they’d fuck you together until you are spasming around the two cocks.

“Si, si, like that, papi,” you squeal and Javi feels his balls tighten. You make THAT sound and when you hold your breath he knows you’re coming, your muscles tight, eyes shut, hands gripping your knees to keep your legs open so he could see your pussy contracting around his cock, clit twitching, your juices soaking his dick. All he hears now is squelching noises of your pussy being stuffed full of another man’s cum and Javi snarls and comes hard, shooting his hot seed all over his jeans, hand and the cord. Globs of cum spill from his cock and slide down his length. He doesn’t care about the mess and milks it to the last drop. Javi’s panting hard, you two echoing him in the headphones. He lets go of his softening cock and stares at your folder on his desk. His mind is finally clear. He must have you.

—————

Pendejo-dumbass

Papi- daddy

Te necesito- I need you

Thank you for reading!

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!💖

Tag list: @ghoulettesinspace @iamasaddie @starkovli @missannwinchester @lucyisdoingfine @marysucks-blog

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #javier peña x you #javier pena x reader #javier pena smut #javier pena fanfiction #javier peña #javier pena #narcos x reader #narcos fic

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its-mekjt · 9 days

Text

watching exu prime, and oh my god, I'm trying not to cackle or else I'll wake up my siblings.

● orym and opal, dorian and dariax. every dms worst nightmare.

● ash hole

● opal shouting into thin air

● new hairdos (orym gets frosted tips)

● DARIAX PRETENDING TO BE HIS EX

● nancy.

● "but as my friend said, we have other offers to field and other people to see. very important people that we've been discussing going to see for quite a while do maybe we SHOULD GO SEE THEM." dorian was STRESSING.

● 'orym shoots dorian a look that a spouse gives to a spouse'. this is where the dorym shippers were born.

● i love when people (opal) are correct but phrases it weirdly

● "for you i could take off another 150 gold" // "okay, 900 gold got it is."

● butt stab

● orym really is the only one with a braincell. mainly by process of elimination.

● 'that's all good though. 3.'

● glitter diaper

● dorian fucking with dariax saying that he's from a long of trapeze artists and jugglers is still one of the funniest things ever

● 'what's your last goddamn name opal.'

● THE CONTEST

● dariax cosplaying as dorian

● "if you were a GEM what would you be and why?" // "i'd be a peach jam."

● dorian and dariax using the cloak and wearing each others clothes as an outfit is one of my favourite bits

● ashley johnson's laugh is addictive. i love it so much.

● opal kissing dariax cause he messed with her opponent.

● "what's your favourite flower?" // "probably oleander because it has multiple purposes. they're beautiful, they smell great and you can also kill someone if you need to."

● orym being DRAGGED on stage

● "WILL THE HALFLING LOVE, OR WILL THE HALFLING DIE?" (he did die, just a few months later)

● BEST NATURAL 20 EVER

● "DARIAX- oh the jam boy."

● people hitting on dariax gives me LIFE

● "in fairness you seem to be a little confused much of the time."

● whiskey and milk

● 10 GOLD WORTH OF PIES.

● "what's a unifying quality?" // "well, we're all pretty attractive."

● "you're not where you fell asleep." // "oh! that's... a problem."

● "i heard the voice of the spider queen giving me power but you know, nothing to worry about."

● fyra rai is contemplating EVERYTHING

● combat ended because they flipped it over

● 'i rolled a natural 1.' launches dice

● night time lullabye of hot cross buns

● dorian is mothering everyone

● titty racks

● "what is a tal'dorei."

● ALCHOHOL applause

● dariax has a good ass

● mister has performance anxiety

● "don't touch me, stranger! ew!"

● ashley's impression of dariax doing a double take at real-opal while disguised as opal

● "what head, Nancy?" HORROR MOVIE SHIT.

● orym's face as he carries the head. HILARIOUS.

#critical role #dnd #aabria iyengar #robbie daymond #liam o'brien #ashley johnson #anjali bhimani #matt mercer #aimee carrero #dorian storm #orym of the air ashari #fearne calloway #fyra rai #dariax zaveon #opal #exu prime #exandria unlimited

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adorethedistance · 6 months

Text

First I Love You - Jamie Drysdale x Reader

Hockey Masterlist

Warnings: swearing, mentions of anxiety, sexual references.

Words: 1677

Summary: First I Love You - After a day that gets increasingly worse, Jamie plans a date night to indirectly celebrate your two-month anniversary.

A/n: Cherry is back with a fic after a month of radio silence in typical aodre the distance fashion lol. Anyway! This has been in my drafts forever and I hate it, I can't proof it due to writer's block, and I'm honestly just done staring at it so here ya go!

You can read part 1 of the series of firsts here. The next and final first on the list is first time which is of course gonna be a lil smutty. I might write some Trevor pieces in the interim just depending how I'm feeling.

Today is just one of those days. My class ran much longer than usual and I had to stay after to ask my professor questions before the midterm that night, then I didn’t have time to make myself lunch so I grabbed the pizza rolls from my freezer to heat up at work, then I burned the pizza rolls beyond consumption and did not have any back up food, then I was starving and stressed and unable to use my time at work to study for the exam. I was crying in a puddle of stress and tears. And Jamie didn’t miss a beat.

Upon hearing how horrible my morning and afternoon had been, he ordered my usual meal from In-N-Out and brought it to me at work so I wouldn’t starve. Then, he offered to make me dinner after I finished my midterm and I tearfully and appreciatively accepted. These little actions of consideration are what have made me fall deeper and deeper in love with Jamie.

We reached our two months anniversary today but I didn’t make a big deal about it. I feel weird about potentially being one of those couples that celebrates every tiny little milestone like it’s the biggest thing in the world. Still neither of us have said “I love you” yet. But if Jamie continues caring for and about me like this, I’m not sure much longer I can hold it in. That’s why I decided I would tell him tonight.

After cooking dinner for the two of us, and pouring a congratulatory glass of wine to celebrate the 95 I got on my midterm, we laid down on the couch together. Happy and fed, I rest my head on the expanse of his broad chest. Jamie presses a kiss into my hair, bringing his left arm to drape over my shoulders.

“God, 2 months already?!” Trevor asks Jamie incredulously, making me roll my eyes at the playful jab.

“Don’t sound so surprised, Zegras.”

“You’re just mad cause you can’t pull.” Jamie’s accusation makes me laugh at the offended look on Trevor’s face.

“Don’t get it twisted, I can pull.”

“You just can’t get them to stay?” I ask innocently, absentmindedly messing with Jamie’s fingers. Jamie laughs heartily. He interlaces his with mine to give my hand a gentle squeeze. “But to answer your original question, yes, it’s been 2 months already.”

The scruff of my boyfriend’s 5 o’clock shadow brushes the back of my hand as he kisses the flat part of my knuckle. Trevor, observing the entire action, leans over the kitchen trashcan and pretends to throw up. Jamie merely laughs and I roll my eyes once more, “Shut the fuck up! You are so dramatic.”

“And for what?” Jamie chimes in which makes me smile to see he’s been picking up some of my mannerisms and phrases as well. That’s been my favorite part of dating him so far. The way his music taste slowly infiltrates mine. The way he now keeps a trashbag in his car after realizing how useful the one in mine is. The way he’s wearing the soft blue hoodie he lent me, for the reason that it now smells like me, which is why I had stolen it from him in the first place.

“I’m happy for you guys, really,” Trevor grabs his car keys from off the granite kitchen counter, “Thank you for rubbing salt into the open wound.”

“Oh my god-” Jamie starts.

“Get out of here!” I finish for him, urging Trevor to leave.

“I’m gone!” He obliges. Then, Jamie kisses my head again, prompting me to sit up.

“Did he say where he was going?”

“Mmm… no, actually. If I had to guess, he’s probably going golfing with the guys.”

“No way, he was dressed way too nice for golf…” I trail off, racking my brain for where he could have possibly been headed. Shrugging off the idea, I straddle Jamie’s hips, and look down at him. I smile. Overcome with the warm sensation of staring at my boyfriend. Jamie nudges me with his hips, indicating he would like me to lay back down. Before I comply, I pull my hair back tying it out of the way so I’m free to kiss Jamie as much as I please. He watches my every move, eyes flooded with adoration.

“At practice this morning, McT said he…” Jamie trails off mid sentence. As he was talking, I finished tying my hair back and then leaned down as he had wanted me to. He’s looking at me with eyes slightly widened and lips parted in surprise.

“What?” I ask, concerned as to why Jamie stopped talking. He simply says,

“You’re really pretty.” The seemingly arbitrary declaration makes me laugh but does nothing to aid my confusion.

“Okay?”

“You’re just so pretty I think I short-circuited.” The earnest confession makes me smile and giggle, so I press a soft kiss to Jamie’s lips.

“You’re cute. So what did Mason say?”

“Oh yeah, he said that he wants to meet you.”

“Really?” I ask, rubbing my thumb over Jamie’s cheekbone. He kisses my palm before responding,

“Despite how much you and Trevor bully each other, he’s told everyone on the team about how cool you are. He kinda took the liberty to do it himself since I do gush about you, but I get shy about it.” Jamie is uncharacteristically speaking out loud his stream of consciousness, and I take a back seat to admire how talkative he can be when he’s with me. A stark contrast to the shy, almost silent boy I’d had my first date with. Noticing how much he’s talking, Jamie ends his rambling but I smile softly, encouragingly,

“It’s unfortunate that the ‘cool girl’ is seemingly the only archetype that consistently receives approval from men, but it is true nonetheless.”

“Yeah, like, it’s not that I need his approval, but it is nice when your boys like your girlfriend… Well, it’s what you said, you just said it better. I’m mansplaining aren’t I?” He asks, bashfully. I roll my eyes and appreciatively kiss his lips once more.

“Get out of your head, Drysdale. Do you have anxiety?”

“Shut up. I think you’re the only person I’ve ever met who can always tell when I’m overthinking.”

“Maybe I’m just the only one with the audacity to comment on it,” I playfully propose, smiling when I succeed in making Jamie laugh.

“I don’t think so.”

“We’ll agree to disagree. It’s unlikely, but not impossible.” Dropping the bit, Jamie and I smile at each other, melting into a comfortable silence. He looks at me with soft eyes, pink blush creeping across his cheeks the longer I continue to stare. I rest my left hand on the side of his face once more. I brush my thumb over his cheekbone again, and rub the top of my fingers repeatedly against the stubble adorning his jaw. Jamie lifts his eye brows before saying,

“What, do I need to shave?”

“No. I just like the way it feels.”

“Oh, hey, you said you’re done with school by mid december, right?”

“Yeah, why?”

“My mom asked if you were coming to Christmas this year.”

“Did she really?” Jamie hesitates a moment before his brows furrow in sincere disapproval.

“You’ve been my girlfriend for two months now. She will not shut up about meeting you.”

“What? Why?” He then blushes fiercely and cowers his head into the large hoodie he’s slouched on. Jamie doesn’t meet my gaze as he talks,

“I told her all about you the other day.” I bite back the giant smile that prods at my features before replying,

“What did you tell her?”

“Just stuff about you!”

“What stuff about me?!”

“I told her you’re a student and what you’re studying. I told her where you’re from and what your family is like. And I told her about how I stare at you between red lights when we’re going somewhere.” The last piece of information makes me laugh and I tilt my head in confusion.

“How did that last part come up?” It was a simple question, really. One that I hadn’t even bothered to put a lot of thought into; one that came from my basic stream of consciousness. And certainly not one that I imagined would ellicit such a reaction from Jamie. His eyes widened and softened all at once, his blush glowing brighter across his cheeks, and his lips parting to allow the irregular pace of breathing he had now adopted.

“I guess… I called her because I was unsure of what I was feeling…? I was kinda freaking out about it. As I told her about our first date, she said that just talking about you made me visibly happier. She noticed that, even though I wasn’t aware of how happy I’d gotten. Then she demanded to meet you as soon as possible…” Jamie sheepishly looks up at me after finishing his mini monologue. The traces of endeared happiness immediately vanish and Jamie looks at me horrified. In describing how happy I make this boy, I felt tears welling up on my lashes, relieved to be experiencing something so thoroughly mutual.

“Oh my god, please don’t cry I’m sorry!” I laugh through the tears and playfully smack his chest.

“Jamie…”

“You make me really happy, Y/n. Like, really really happy-”

“I love you,” I blurt out. I’m a bit stunned and honestly scared of how quickly this confession escaped me. But I know it’s true. And isn’t that the scariest part?

“I love you too.”

“Really?” I ask through unrelenting tears.

“Yes,” Jamie rests his hands on the tops of my hip bones, “I kind of lied by saying my mom said I looked happy… She said I looked very in love, but I didn’t want to be too forward and say that if you maybe didn’t feel the same way.”

“Bro, you worry so much, are you sure you don’t have anxiety?”

“Shut the fuck up!”

***

a/n: copy pasting tags is the best thing that has ever happened to fic writers I think.

#Jamie Drysdale #Jamie Drysdale fanfiction #Jamie Drysdale fanfic #Jamie Drysdale fic #Jamie Drysdale imagine #Jamie Drysdale oneshot #Jamie Drysdale one shot #Jamie Drysdale x reader #Jamie Drysdale x Asa #Jamie Drysdale smut #Jamie Drysdale fluff #Jamie Drysdale angst #Jamie Drysdale blurb #Jamie Drysdale drabble #Jamie Drysdale hc #Jamie Drysdale headcanon #trevor zegras #Trevor Zegras #Platonic!Trevor

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bloodyjuls-blog · 10 months

Text

Mi musa. Ana-maria Crnogorcevic x Reader

🚨SOLD OUT 24/09/23 y/n in concert at sala Razzmatazz, Barcelona 🚨

Y/N pov

I was super nervous because today would be my end of tour concert and I couldn't be more excited, I will finally spend more time with my girl. All these months that I've been dating Ana I've had a wonderful time, she is very sweet, very loving, very special to me. I've wanted to dedicate a couple of songs to her on my new album, but I don't want to arouse suspicions because our relationship is a bit low profile.

I invited Ana to the concert and she told me that her teammates love my music so I gave them a few tickets to the concert. Because with this sold out thing it's impossible, they even have a vip pass.

I was wandering in my thoughts when I get a message from Ana telling me that they are almost at the venue.

Ana from Albacete💘

Baby we are almost there

Well gordi, if there's anything you can tell me ILSM ♥️

Ana from Albacete 💘

I love you❣️

Once the concert started the first thing I see is Ana with the whole Barça team? I can't believe it she has brought the whole team hahaha what a woman she is.

"Well Barna how are we?" I say euphoric in what would be my last concert. "Apparently we have some special guests here today" and I look at the Barça girls. They euphorically shout and whistle. "So, are we starting or not?" I say, teasing the audience. To which they shout "Yes" "Guapa" "Say it queen"....

A few songs later, the one I'm going to dedicate to Ana starts.

"Echaste a todos de la fiesta para quedarte sola conmigo en el salón" I look at Ana knowing that she has understood the reference...

Flashback

"Ana my love, are your mates at home? I've already left the concert" I tell her in the middle of the call, to which she answers me: "I've already told them to leave so you can come and stay with me until further notice" she tells me seriously but at the same time sweetly. "Well my life, see you now".

End of flashback

I see that she turns red and I keep on singing... "Y si pudiera cambiar todo lo que he vivido a tu lado por millones en el banco y un coche descapotao, no" her teammates look at her funny because I'm singing the song straight to her...

"En la parte de atrás de un Mini o en playas de Santorini" this part makes her go crazy with the redness of her cheeks...

Flashback

"Anaaaaaaaaa, the car won't start" I say a bit worried from a slope in Santorini... "Y/n I don't have a signal to call the mechanic, you?" she says relaxed. She laughs a bit at me and puts on the radio.... "Ana for God's sake" I say worried. "Oh love, so little is so little, I have an idea to distract you" she says seductively.... "Oh yes, what idea does that little head of yours have?" I lean into his side a little. "First of all, we have to move to the back because my legs don't fit in this passenger seat" once we are both seated in the back I tell her "Lady I tell you once and for all that no funny business back here eh" she looks at me indignant and says: "I just wanted to give you some kisses and do karaoke" I look at her inquisitively: "well I accept your kisses but we must see how we leave" I lean to give her some kisses first in her forehead, then in her nose and then in her lips...

End of flashback

Ana's pov

This concert is special because it's the end of Y/N's tour and as she has given me the go ahead to invite the girls from the team I don't know what she has planned but whatever it is I know it's going to be great. And well who am I kidding, it's y/n everything does well....

During the course of the concert I notice that a song is playing that I haven't heard before, and that's when y/N looks at me and I can intuit that she's dedicating it to me. My teammates look at me a bit out of place because they don't know what's going on and I prefer not to say anything...

"In the back of a mini or on the beaches of Santorini" I couldn't believe that y/n had put that in a song, a phrase that seems innocent but not. "Hey Ana, didn't you have some problems on your last trip to Santorini?" Keira says to me.... "Yes" I say nervously. "AHH, it's just a coincidence that y/n made that reference and sang it to you" says Lucy connecting the dots. "What a weird thing to say, maybe she rents the car from the same place I do" I say to Lucy calmly.... "Mmm well, if you say so" says Alexia suspiciously.

Y/N's pov

"And well Barna, let's go with the last song of the night, a song that is inspired by my midnight muse," I say more calmly.... "With you 'arrullo de estrellas' " and I start playing the piano.

"Es que no hay nadie como tú, que me haga sentir así, en un arrullo de estrellas, te lo digo desde el alma, y con el corazón abierto" I raise my gaze and focus it on Ana... I see her very excited and it makes me get a little emotional. I let a couple of tears fall...

"Eres mi amor amor eterno

Mi ángel de la guarda

Te lo digo desde el alma

María llena eres de gracia "

Now it was clear who I was going to sing for.

The concert is over and I go backstage and in a matter of minutes the Barça girls and Ana clearly arrive. "Hola y/n" says Ana coming up to me and hugging me, "Hola mi amor" I greet her and give her a little kiss on her "cheek" very close to her lips. "I can't believe this is the end of the tour, wonderful, I loved it" Alexia says to me and the others nod. "Apparently you liked the concert" I say amused. "You're the best" Ana says to me in a low voice. "So, what are the plans after this" asks Irene (she already knows about us so it's a closer question) "to rest and keep composing" "I also want to take some time for myself, for my family, my girl and to travel a little bit" I say calmer after today's roller coaster of emotions. "Very good" says Irene with her stoic calm. "I hope to see you more often at the Johan. Tell Ana to give you some tickets and drop by" says Alexia. "Mmm ok?" I say quizzically. "It's obvious that you go out with Ana, I've noticed the whole concert how you look at her and not to mention the reference to Santorini, Ana has told us about that and it can't be a coincidence" says Alexia amused. "Well I'm not hahaha" I say and give Ana a kiss before I go to change for the after party.

Ana's fic has arrived. Let me know if you liked? The lyrics translate down below

1. Song: Santorini by Enol

https://www.musixmatch.com/es/letras/Enol-Marmi/SANTORINI-Marmi/traduccion/english/amp#view_translation

2. Song: Arrullo de estrellas by Zoe

https://lyricstranslate.com/es/arrullo-de-estrellas-stars-lullaby.html

#woso x reader #woso imagines #woso imagine #fc barcelona femeni #fcb femeni x reader #woso #ana maria crnogorcevic x reader #ana maria crnogorcevic #lionesses #espwnt #fcb femeni

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