#another fucking drum lesson

[jeongharine]

syntax ERROR

⚝ wonwoo x reader

⚝ comedy, light smut

⚝ notes: the one where jeon wonwoo is your nerdy math tutor. but he’s unexpectedly hot. and you’re his friend’s sister. obviously.

“a pc bang?” “yes she’s always there,” says hoshi, while munching down his sandwich.

“but i can’t teach her there-” “of course you can’t, but you’ll find her there. it’s the one on the left around the corner,”

“now, remind me why i am doing this,” “because you’re my friend and i’m fantastic at being one,”

wonwoo just gulps down his apple juice, looking at the time on his phone.

“you should change this narrative, it’s getting boring,” “wonu, i just need you to do me this favour because if she doesn’t pass this class it’ll be a problem, okay?”

a sigh. “yes, that’s fine. but only for this class okay?” hoshi grins, all teeth “you’re the best,”

“yeah.. i better be going then, i hope she’s a well-mannered student otherw-” wonwoo says, setting off.

“oh.. about that..” “what?” he stops.

“nothing, she listens well,” hoshi says, scratching the back of his head.

x

she listens well when she wants to, he should have said.

not that this a surprise for wonwoo, knowing her brother. but damn, this girl is getting on his nerves.

“okay y/n, let me be clear. your brother begged me to give you lessons, so now please can we go to the library?”

“nu-uh, i have a tournament here this afternoon. we can do another day,” you crack your fingers and re-position your chair.

“see, maybe this is why you’re not getting through this class. you can do the tournament another day, it’s more important to study matrix systems to pass the exam than gaming,”

“boooooring, i will do that tonight if i feel like it okay? i don’t need your-” you turn your chair around to face him. “...help...”

since when your brother’s friends were this handsome. holy fuck, with that cap on before you couldn’t see anything and maybe he should have kept it on for your sanity. fuck. fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. fuckity fuck.

you can see that he is deeply annoyed by your behaviour, probably he’s used to people who take academic life very seriously. nah, he’s friend with hoshi so. you scoff a laugh.

and he’s just there, looking at you, waiting for an answer.

or maybe to beg you.

“but on second thoughts...” you begin to say, “we can come to an agreement..” “that is?” he shifts in his position.

“we game for about an hour, because you game and i can see that just by looking at your face. and then, we can look at the first two chapters of maths analysis. i think this we’ll do, yes.” you grin widely.

and he hates to admit that the grinning suits you best.

wonwoo promised hoshi that he would have at least gotten through the matrix systems today with you, but here he is. without a fucking clue of what to do.

and you are just looking at him smiling prettily, as if you absolutely don’t know how charming and good-looking you are.

so wonwoo just sighs, and turns his head to glance at the pc screen near him.

even his side profile is pretty, you think to yourself.

“fine. but at least let’s play some battlegrounds.”

“can’t promise you anything,” you say pleasantly, eyes creasing in a glittering smile that suddenly makes wonwoo skittish.

x

“do you want to fuck my brains out?”

the air in his little dorm becomes unbearably stuffy all of a sudden but you refuse to let it show, after finally voicing the thoughts that were possessing your head for the past few weeks.

wonwoo turns to face you, looking far more collected. you never would have thought it would all come to a head like this in his room on a monday afternoon. but here you are, feeling a little light headed but inexplicably brave.

“i mean,” you say. “doesn’t every girl on campus you know want you to fuck their brains out?” “that you have to tell me, i don’t think i can give you an answer,” he says, piling up the books on his desk.

he starts to drum his long fingers on the cover of the statistics textbook for a good minute, eyes focused on the dusty windowsill while he is chewing on the inside of his cheek.

and it takes you a second to really make that sink in: wonwoo is restless. he is hanging on your next words.

“so, are you going to say something or you will make me wait here all afternoon?”

you smile. and he hates how his palpitations go up by a notch.

“neither. just knowing that you rubbed one out to the thought of me is closure enough to me.” he clearly tenses up. “who says i have?”

you close your textbook with a thud. “oh, don’t be embarrassed wonu. we’ve all been there at one point or another.”

he’s at the brink of being disgusted with himself for getting a hard on when you just used his nickname like that, but despite it all his heart still leaps up into his throat when you sit up from his bed and collect your bag.

“you touched yourself thinking of me?”

you look at him with one hand on the door handle and wonwoo swears his vision blurs slightly as you grin at him like that.

“you say it like you’re surprised.”

there is no build up, no easing you into the uncharted waters. he kisses open the seam of your mouth without any hesitation, the heat of your tongue against his. it feels so harsh and erotic, so completely unlike the wonwoo you just got to know.

so polite and so pleasant.

but now his hands are on you. and you haven’t had the time to realize your eyes were closed until his hands come up to palm around your waist, searching for skin while you whine against him.

your brain is foggy with the taste of him. he pulls back just as you starts to sway in his arms.

“you don’t even know...” he traces up your back. “..what you do to me, uhm?” you gulp, lips all wet.

the muskiness of him makes your head spin fast, especially when he leaves soft kisses on the skin behind your ear. his mouth is so hypnotic, every move perfectly placed.

“wonwoo,” you stammer, not knowing what else to say. your voice has gone croaky and his hand is venturing up your sweater now, not looking like it would stop any time soon.

your breath catches in your throat when wonwoo trails his fingertips over your clothed breast, dancing across it before brushing the underside. you expected his touches to be harsh, sharp. but they are slow, feather-light. practiced.

his chest heaving like he’s just run a mile, the skin of his stomach hard and hot under your fingers from where you shoved his t-shirt up. his lips are smooth when you inch up to kiss him, gently by his cupid’s bow just to make him grunt. wonwoo’s hands curl around your wrists gently, pampering you with kisses for a couple of minutes before pulling away.

“fuck me,” you whisper. and then, because he has to double take like he didn’t quite hear you right. “fuck me wonwoo, please.”

“please. please, wonu. i’m begging.”

“y/n…” wonwoo growls, because he is really close to pop a blood vessel when you sound all whiny and shameless like that.

“i don’t care if someone will hear us,” you murmur against his mouth before pressing it there for a short kiss. you proceed to trail wet pecks all over his jaw and neck, so that he has to close his eyes with a soft sigh. 

“fuck,” he whispers, “you’re really begging me to fuck you here when your brother could come back any minute,” wonwoo says, kissing you.

it’s getting difficult for you to respond when his hand ventures down to undo your jeans though, mouth hanging open in pleasure while he nips at your bottom lip before pushing you back down on his bed. 

“you have to be extra quiet, okay?” he huffs. and there is something wonderfully satisfying for wonwoo to see you like this, underneath him and all putty in his hands.

“wonu,” you whine again, accepting the soft kiss he presses on your lips before he turns you over and positions you how he wants: on your knees, ass up, face pushed into a pillow to muffle your moans.

“you’re so impatient,” he chuckles behind you, but it sounds so soft. fond, even. he pecks your ear swiftly while you listen to him sliding down your jeans and undies and prepare himself, your heart thudding in anticipation. you’re so thrilled you barely register the embarrassment and awkwardness of being left to wait like this, propped up and ready for him to fuck you stupid. and you gasp when you finally feel his erection against your weeping slit, hot and everything you want.

he keeps grinding against your slick folds. “wonwoo,” you whimper, because his tip keeps slipping in and that alone is making you gush. you push your hips back, tears blurring your sight with how desperately you want him inside you. “please.”

he chuckles softly, leaning over to kiss your shoulder before finally pushing into you.

x

“so, i assume the lessons are going well since you two see each other three times a week now,” hoshi says, voice muffled by the noodles he’s slurping.

his eyes are set on wonwoo’s face, lost in the gimbap in front of him.

because if wonwoo has to be real honest, the lessons are going really well, yes. but also his dating life.

and how can he say that to hoshi... ‘oh yeah, she’s really smart hosh and also a fucking star at giving head!’

in his defence, wonwoo would probably never get over the fact that he has succeded in pulling someone like you. he suddenly turns pink thinking about your pretty smile and your prettier laugh. the glint in your eyes when gaming together and the concentrated face you make when trying to understand math concepts that even he has difficulties in teaching. you clinging onto his arm, the late night ramen runs at the convenience store and your honeyed sighs and moans when you’re in the private of your own.

so yeah, he doesn’t really know where to start with this.

“wonu-yah?” hoshi hisses, and suddenly wonwoo gulps when his friend is holding his stare in a vice grip.

“we’re fucking hosh,” he admits timidly, and hoshi starts swearing.

#wonwoo x reader #jeon wonwoo x reader #seventeen x reader #wonwoo smut #seventeen fic #wonwoo fic #svt fic #wonwoo x y/n #seventeen smut #wonwoo scenarios #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines

[kinokoapologist]

:]

#fun vocab lesson for everyone! queerbaiting is a marketing tactic used by media corporations to attract LGBT+ audiences with no intention of #delivering on representation; instead using the experiences and hopes of queer people to drum up attention for their product! #it is NOT you getting pissy about two dudes not fucking when you want them to! #and it is ESPECIALLY not two canonically queer characters interacting in a scene that doesn't have anything to do with a romantic arc #OR one character having unrequited attraction to another! #that's just Queer Characters Existing! Outside Of Romance Driven Storylines! #Which Is A Thing That Writers Should Be Able To Show Without Getting Accused Of Lying To Their Audiences! So Shut The Fuck Up!

[fleursbending]

𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐘𝐨𝐮, 𝐌𝐲 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐬 𝐅𝐨𝐫. | Neteyam Sully

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : green is all you see, and for once it's not because you live in the midst of the damn jungle. it's because envy and greed consume you. what's the root cause of it? neteyam and your supposed friend who is trying to definitely charm him. 

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 : “This—” [points at their chest] “—this belongs to you. Always.”

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : neteyam sully x fem!omaticaya reader.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : requested, yes | no. hellooo idk where this came from, but here we are at least another request done! just wanted to put a lil something out because the songcords are some chonky mfs and taking some time! so hope you enjoy. this is loosely based on "my heart it beats for you" - grentperez (filo represent!)

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : jealousy, flirting w/o clear consent?, neteyam is so boyfie/bbg here, protective!nete, ur friend is an asshat, hurt/comfort, established relationship, cussing, fluff yippee!

𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐲 : olo’eyktan - clan leader, yaymak - foolish/ignorant, tsamsiyu - warrior, oeyä - my (possessive), hawnu - protect/shelter, muntxate - wife/mate.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 2.5k words !

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 :  @pandorainmymind @eywas-heir @spicycloudsalad @missdreamofendless @prty-poisxn @scarlettwitch-4 @23victoria @avidreader3107 @purplehyacinthss-deactivated202 @itssiaaax @neteyamoa @tsireyasgf @nijirozzz @useryourbut @yua-himari @sweetheartlizzie07 @grierpilots @reneehillary69 @fruitsalad1 @forasgaard @iwaslikeblah @dumb-fawkin-bitch @theicemav @narutoboi @azaleaniath @goosemothersblog

𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐘 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐁𝐄 𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇, especially if you have to witness the cause of such erratic inner turmoil. 

She hadn't meant to wander this close to the training grounds, and truthfully she had no clue how her little detour brought her here. 

Alas, perhaps she'd gravitated here for a reason. After all, Neteyam was training some warriors-to-be, and maybe now she could catch a glimpse of him in action without disrupting the lesson.

She missed him, the consistent need of kissing him like the ocean does to the tide as it retreats back to shore. It held her heart in a monumental lock, Neteyam had infiltrated her thoughts once again. To be fair, she could not be blamed for this - they'd barely been around each other the past few days. 

Jake had become even sterner, prepping his son for when he'd take the mantle of Olo'ekytan as it is handed down to him. It had Neteyam wishing he could talk back, just simply out of spite. To demand some room, freedom to spend more time with you. But the only thing keeping him grounded and sane was the fact that perhaps once this is all over, and he has secured his place as the leader of the clan - maybe then things would settle. He'd get to be around you more, even if it is through lingering touches and a fuse charged to his heart due to the yearning glances from across two ends of a place in their home in the midst of the forest. 

His desire to cross the finish line had increased by tenfold at the mere thoughts flittering in his brimming mind. To start a family with you, live his life to the fullest with you…that was all he's yearned for. 

But now she's cursing herself, feet stomping onto the forest ground with uncertainty brewing deep in her bones. ___ did not know whether or not to be pissed beyond belief or let her heart sink into the doubts already sneering at her. 

Because through the thick branches, she stood behind to peer into the training grounds, the sight before her was certainly something to behold. 

Training my ass! Speaking of ass, is she pressing hers into- what the actual fuck? 

Her heart drummed in her ears, and suddenly fury fills her veins until she feels ashamed. Is this what has been going on all this time? How could her friend act on the attractions that she seemed to very obviously have? Neteyam was spoken for. 

___ best friend stood a good few metres away from where she had unintentionally hidden, pressed too closely to Neteyam as he tries to readjust her stance and the way she grips her bow. 

That coniving little… ___ had already taught the ins and outs of how to control her bow and how to aim it. They did this months ago. She wanted to give her friend the benefit of the doubt, maybe she just needed some touching up? But why wouldn't she have just gone to you?

Such questions fizzle out as her eyes cut to your own, unnerving and edging on callousness. Oh, so this definitely was purposeful. 

She knows more than anyone else that her boyfriend is capable of holding his own, but sometimes - he is just a little dense. Especially around the ladies of the clan, and the fact that every female (even males) wants a piece of him. 

Not even just to be the Tsahik of the future Olo'ekytan, but because he inherited the beauty of his mother - the roughness of his father. He also had a very protective demeanor, never hesitating to be vocal about his genuine adoration for you - or back you up when a situation demanded of it. 

It lights a fuse in the back of your mind then, a raging insistent thought that you'd try to tone down the moment you realised that you were each other's, person. That hopefully nothing was going to come of the way of that. 

But your supposed friend is definitely coming in the way of you acting civil right now. 

Maybe you just weren't good enough for him, never able to live up to everything Neteyam is known for and will come to be.

Jake had told Neteyam that he could begin to train other like-minded Na'vi - the people of the Omaticaya that wanted to become warriors. Saying in the same sentence how his dear friend Tsu'tey used to do the same. 

It instilled him with great pride and honor, which he was undeniably blinded by in this current moment as your friends' fingertips graze his arm in a very flirtatious manner. 

Disdain clawed at your skin then, making you want to scratch at your arms. Did she willingly sign up for these lessons? Yaymak, she's taking up the time of true soon-to-be warriors who await more proper training. 

She lets out a loud and very obnoxious giggle, and Neteyam doesn't acknowledge a thing - still too focused on the lesson. The fuse imploded then. 

All the doubts came gushing in at once, searing to your skin as envy wilts around your conscience. Green is all you see, and for once it's not because you live in the midst of the damn jungle. It's because envy and greed consume you. Betrayal too, towards the friend you lost and your lover who was too focused on living up to the legacy of two influential men of the clan. 

Oh maybe, just maybe you had to unwillingly entertain such detrimental thoughts.

There's a reason why the clan is so unbashful in their efforts of trying to claim Neteyam as their one and only mate for a  lifetime. 

You weren't enough in their eyes. 

You'd come from a mediocre family, hunters on the bottom of the hierarchy - nothing remotely remarkable. 

Nothing compared to your soon-to-be ex-friend who is inching her way closer into Neteyam's chest - whose mother is also incredibly close to Neytiri.

___ was really wishing for Eywa right about now. That the atkorinas that had danced among the sky and brushed your shoulders when you and Neteyam shared your first kiss, were not something she had hopelessly imagined. 

With fists clenched, Neteyam releases the arrow. Bullseye.

"Yep, that's how I do it." He just smiles down at her respectfully, stepping back unintentionally as he reloads his bow to demonstrate it one more time.

The girl inflicting all this bitterness and resentment frowned then, before turning slightly and meeting your teary eyes once again. 

She knew you were there and was still doing this? Yeah, she can rot in hell.

In an instant, she squeals, but it's still a late reaction to what he had just shown - jumping to him and giving Neteyam an audacious hug. 

Great mother, she was testing your resolve. Your claim. ___ can't do this, can't bare witness to such crude manners and undeterred actions from someone she had confided in and befriended for a large part of her life. 

Before you knew it, you were fumbling, feet stepping on a hollow stick.

Snap. It echoes in the now still air, missing how Neteyam had flinched and retreated from her hug immediately. His features darkened as he spat out, "Don't touch me like that. You are here to learn, so learn."

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Two heads whip towards you as ___ bolts off, not daring to take a quick glance back at where you had left your broken heart.

Neteyam is only just able to catch a glimpse of who had suddenly retreated, dread drenching him in a mere half second once everything falls into place. 

It was his yawntu.

The need to please his father and live up to the great hold his uncle Tsu'tey still had on his people sputters, becoming an afterthought.

"How dare you take advantage of me like this?" He thunders at the now floundering girl. 

She gapes and stutters. But nothing flows through his ears. How pathetic.

"You're her best friend!" He hissed, ears laying flat in vexation. 

Once again nothing leaves her suddenly parched mouth, and it leaves him utterly cross. Neteyam decides then to drag salt across the wound.

"You are not capable of being a warrior, especially if you cannot take my lessons seriously. I suggest you head back to where you belong because I will not teach someone as lousy as you - ever - again." He glowered, snatching the practice bow out of her hands and proceeding to not only snap it in half - but throw it on the ground as well.

"Neteyam!" She desperately calls at the same time he yells out for you, running in the same direction he had seen you flee. 

He doesn't bother to pivot and throw more spite at the already frightened girl who had tried to make advances on him, it was her fault they got caught in that position (literally).

The ever-so-mighty tsamiyu now feels like he is shackled to the forest floor as he calls out for you again, frowning as his feet dig into the soil beneath him once finally finds you.

There you are, winsome as you quietly sob into the palm of your hands that cover the aggrieved expression that painted your features. The waterfall cascaded down on you as you pushed yourself to sit inside the little cave that had created itself over the years right behind it. 

A jolt ripples through ___ as Neteyam instinctively brings you into a hug the moment he reaches you, pressing repetitive kisses to your forehead. 

You let yourself feel the wrath of your thoughts then, right at their peak - so you can come to terms with them. They can settle and move away from having you anchored down like you were currently.

A gut-wrenching sigh ebbed out of you then, whispering to Neteyam apologetically. 

"I know, I know it's not your fault. I'm sorry I reacted this way."

He just shakes his head in turmoil then, features hardened at the thought of you having to witness him try to be swayed by someone who he didn't find trifling interest in. Someone who had been in your inner circle of friends. 

Neteyam felt scorned, struggling to find words that can appease both of you. This is all unexplored territory to him, he'd never had to deal with someone so bold that was also trying to get with him. The eldest Sully is so unapologetically enamored, essentially soaking in all the love and devotion he has for you. There's so much of it to go around, that even his heart sometimes grapples with where to place it all. 

He necessitated, tone yearning for you to see him. "I hope you know, these were never my intentions. To hurt you, for her to act so-...for it to turn out - I was trying to appease my father and it's just been-"

You cut him off, understanding and knowing all too well of the troubles and responsibilities that have been bestowed upon him and weigh heavily on his broad shoulders. 

"Nete, I know. Really, it's just my mind playing games with me. It is not your fault that she decided to, well - ruin our friendship. You also did not deserve such treatment when time is already not on your side right now. I'm sorry for that."

___ doesn't meet his eyes, instead her own are downcast - allowing her hair to hang like a curtain over her blotchy face due to the tears that she had just shed.

"___." He utters with purpose, hands moving to push your damp hair back and away from your face.

You hum lowly, eyes still holding a peculiar melancholy and distant as ever. 

His hand pressing to your heart is what shatters you from the reverie.

Neteyam's amber eyes are fierce, bold, and enraptured with the deepest appreciation for you. 

Now he knows he holds your attention,

“This—”, he points to his chest then, vehemently and with such precision it has your heart stilling for a moment, “—this belongs to you. Always.”

A shudder breaks from your lips then, astounded and in awe that he is all yours. Shaking hands fold over his that still are motioning to his own heart. 

The heart that had been ever so charmed by your delightful presence, so effortlessly whole due to the affections you bestowed upon him over the years of his childhood up til now.

You're each other's eternities, aligned with the stars and the atkorina's. ___ is sure of it now.

He'd orbit around you as long as you wished for him to. A shield and a protector for this lifetime and the ones that followed. Neteyam liked to believe that if there was another life, you'd fall right into place beside one another. That your love would just shift and begin again. 

If only he knew you thought the exact same thing, especially now as you just appreciate Neteyam for all that he is and who he'll come to be. He has big shoes to fill, but you know he'll be just fine. 

"As does mine. Always." You whisper with consolation, delicate and saccharine. 

His heart squeezes, hands darting away from yours to cup your face as he let his head dip into yours.

It was a movement that was second-hand nature to him now, a daily occurrence of sorts.

Neteyam breathes you in, letting your aura wrap around his being.

Your arms capture him in return, fingers trailing down the divots that line his spine as he allows himself to melt into your hold. Tension fusing into ease.

"You're not mad at me?" He questions, mindlessly playing with a strand of your still-damp hair.

"I'm not mad at you, oeyä hawnu."

His heart flutters then, a light blush dusting his cheeks. He shyly whines into the nape of your neck, your response is to giggle in return.

"You know what calling me that, does to me! I guess it's time to once again show my affection to you in front of all the people!"

You squeal his name as he suddenly lifts you up, throwing over you his shoulder as he wades out into the real world and across the water, away from your little bubble.

Bursts of laughter mingle with the bustling sounds of nature as he makes his way back to your home base.

 Neteyam will gladly let everyone know how devoted he is to you, to make sure they know that he isn't kidding around when he said you'd be his future muntxate.

In his heart and soul, he knew you were the only person Pandora made for him in the eyes of Eywa. That's how it always will be, is the thought that springs to both of your minds in that very moment. The great mother wishes then she could give you a sign then, but she rectifies herself then.

Your heart beats when with each other speaks enough.

𝒇𝒍𝒆𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒃𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 ━━━ 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑

⤷ feedback and reblogs are always much appreciated ! feel free to ask through my inbox if you would like to join my taglist. ♡ // a/n: i tried using ___ instead of y/n cos i was getting tired of it lmk if that's ok. also LMAOO i imagined the waterfall as the hsm2 scene, the pool iyky!

#junie's library 📚✧.* #— junie & the prompts ☆ﾐ #neteyam x y/n #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam sully #neteyam #avatar the way of water #atwow x reader #atwow #avatar imagine #avatar x reader #avatar fanfiction #avatar #james cameron avatar #missing neteyam hours ! #i missed writing for him #avatar 2 #neteyam fluff

[eddiesghxst]

cigarettes, coffee, and club-hopping

alrighty, she's here and i hope she lives up to the expectations! this is part one of...idk how many yet, but enjoy!

based on this idea I had 80 years ago

————

part one | part two | part three | part four

————

18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: ex-bf!rockstar!eddie x lawyer!reader

summary: you're a divorce attorney in Los Angeles and your newest client is filing against famous rockstar, Eddie Munson, who is also your ex-boyfriend

contains: exes to lovers trope, mention of a past relationship, slutty banter, smoking, mentions of alcohol, a hint of mean!eddie, public sex (restroom), a sprinkle of degradation, eddie likes to kiss your neck, fingering, eddie licking your c*m off his fingers (bye), and eddie being hot <3

word count: 5.8k

-masterlist-

Eddie hates waking up early. 

He’s never been a morning person— in all his twenty-eight years of living, Eddie has never seen the letters ‘AM’ and smiled. This is partially why Eddie failed his first-period class in high school for two — almost three — consecutive years in a row. This is also partly why Eddie was fired from nearly every job he landed after graduating. You would imagine that Eddie has learned his lesson after all this time. Not quite.

Eddie is nearly an hour late to his first divorce settlement conference. One would think that Eddie would, for once in his life, wake up at a reasonable time to take a shower, grab his usual morning energy drink, beat LA traffic, and get to his appointment on time— as a mature grown man would do. Still, Eddie failed even to set an alarm to wake him up.

“You’re forty minutes late already— traffic is gonna make it even worse, and you don’t have another day to reschedule this for the next two months, so I suggest you get up, Munson!”

Eddie watches through sleep-fogged eyes as Kelly, his assistant, throws his window curtains aside to let the morning sun seep into his room. There’s a pounding kick drum beating behind Eddie’s eyes, a result of Eddie falling into Jeff’s sinister persuasion to go out. He should stop listening to that asshole— he’s part of why Eddie married his soon-to-be ex-wife.

Eddie’s bones click and crack as he stretches, sits up, and lazily swings his legs over the side of his bed with a sleepy groan. He can hear the rustling sound of Kelly picking up laundry from his floor— something he’s told her multiple times not to do, but she does it anyway, so he’s given up on fighting her. He runs a hand over his face, a yawn wracking through his entire body before reaching over to his nightstand, feeling around for the box of cigarettes he knows he left the night before. 

“I tossed them out,” Eddie glances up at Kelly, who is now grabbing the last of his laundry on the floor and leaving his room. “Go freshen up and get dressed; we need to leave now.”

Eddie’s doctor advised him to start weaning himself off the cancer sticks; something about it fucking with his gums, and that’s on top of the risks he’s running with the vocal strain it’s put on his voice. Eddie knows he should take it seriously, but he needs a lick of nic before spending the next three to four hours bickering with his wife about what’s his and hers.

Eddie drags himself out of bed, shuffling across the cool tile of his bedroom floor. He sleepily rubs his bare stomach, flipping the light switch and groaning, annoyed at the sudden brightness. He brushes his teeth and splashes water on his face before walking into his closet and sifting through the random pants and jackets strewn across the floor. There’s gotta be some smokes in here somewhere. 

He finds a nearly empty pack of Marlboro reds and wastes no time sticking it between his lips, lighting it up with the lighter on his nightstand before getting dressed.

By the time Eddie steps into the law firm, his headache has intensified by about 80 beats per second, and he’s gone through the old pack of smokes. It feels as if the back of Eddie’s eyes have a heartbeat of their own, throbbing with every direction they turn. Eddie can hear his attorney giving him pointers for the conference, but if Eddie’s honest, he doesn’t plan on talking much, so he doesn’t pay close attention to what the man is saying.

When they enter the conference room, Eddie is seated across the table from his wife and offered a cup of coffee, to which Eddie gladly accepts to nurse his hangover. “You could at least take the glasses off.” A sweet voice that’s grown to grate every one of Eddie’s nerves whenever he hears it. He glares at his wife from across the table, and though nobody could see his eyes behind his glasses, everyone could sense the distaste behind his words, “Fuck off, Nezza.”

A strong hand is placed on Eddie’s shoulder, his attorney’s, stiffly squeezing the thick leather jacket. “How about we get started then? Before things get… rowdy.”

“Great idea.” 

Now that voice—- that voice, Eddie could hear at any second of the day, any time of the year, and know exactly who was conducting that sweet song. 

Eddie likes to believe that the universe works in mysterious ways and that things really do happen for a reason, but sometimes he swears whatever god is up there behind the clouds just likes to fuck with him for fun. Nothing, absolutely nothing, could’ve prepared Eddie for the sight he sees when he flits his gaze from Nezza to the woman sitting next to her.

For a moment, Eddie is taken back to a time he remembers in golden dream-like clouds of smoke—- the spring of ‘83 when he fell headfirst in love with the woman sitting next to his wife. And for that moment—- for that split fraction of a second, Eddie is happy to see you. 

It’s surprising; after all this time he spent resenting you and spitting out the sour taste you'd left in his mouth, Eddie imagined he would never be able even to see a picture of you and not want to slam his head against the nearest surface he could get his hands on.

However, that feeling only lasts about .012 milliseconds before Eddie’s entire being is filled with every emotion he’d suppressed towards you over the last nine years. Eddie looks at you and sees the girl he loved and the girl that broke his heart. His last memory of you is so vivid that it almost outshines all the good from your past relationship. Almost. Like a python wrapped around his neck, Eddie chokes on adoration and hatred all in one breath.

If Eddie said it didn’t piss him off to an ungodly level that he has a sliver of excitement to see you, he would be lying. You had always known the best ways to wriggle under his skin. 

This one takes the cake for the cruelest way so far.

————

Eddie looks the same.

Not much has changed on him throughout the years apart from expensive clothing, healthier-looking hair, and a little more muscle on his arms to fill out the black leather jacket clinging to his frame. He still has a knack for jewelry, you note from the priceless rings hugging nearly every slender finger of his and the chain resting against his chest, hidden beneath his shirt. He carries himself the same way, confidently with a smear of carefree and chaos. You couldn’t get a read on him when settled down in his seat across from Nezza, and the black sunglasses shielding his eyes didn’t help you decipher him any further. 

He smells like Marlboro reds and a sharp cologne; dark scented and intense, easy to tell he’s the one wearing the scent. It’s a different scent than you remember from him. He’s swapped the cheap four-cent bottle of Brut for a more decadent scent— a mix of tonka bean, musk, and patchouli with a dash of something feminine you can’t quite put your finger on. The scent matches him better than Brut could ever amount to, but you find yourself reminiscent of the past.

Eddie doesn’t look your way until you speak, and either Eddie has mastered his poker face over the years, or he doesn’t remember you.

Not even briefly does Eddie’s expression falter from the bored look plastered on his face. The sunglasses do no justice either, and you wish the universe would strike them off his face at this very moment. You had forgotten what his eyes looked like in real-time and desperately wanted to remember— take a mental picture and shove it in the corner of your brain filled with essential memories, all things that make you smile, cry, and scream.

There’s a moment where you feel pained by Eddie’s unwavering reaction to seeing you. That feeling is quickly replaced with relief, relief that Eddie has matured just as much as you’d hoped he had. When you found out your client would be filing against Eddie, your high school boyfriend, you had initially panicked and paced the living room floor of your tiny studio apartment, thinking of ways to back out of the case. However, after a hefty glass of wine, you managed to persuade yourself that Eddie most likely isn’t still hung up on something as silly as a high school relationship. It happened nearly a decade ago; surely, you’ve both moved on, right?

With this indication, you feel the tension in your shoulders ease a little, hopeful that this process will be seamless, seeing as both parties want nothing to do with each other and Eddie holds no hard feelings against you.

Once the conference begins, you don’t look away in time to avoid Eddie’s gaze as he removes the glasses, your eyes landing on those dark pools of brown that you used to dip into each night. Vibrant and so full of life, full of untold stories and sights you’d missed out on in the last decade, a story unfolds beneath the glimmer of his eyes under the lights. They feel like home at first, but as you continue holding his gaze, your home becomes clouded by lightning and wind, dark storm clouds with a promise of a downpour.

As you gaze into Eddie’s eyes, you see nothing but the boy you left behind in the summer of ‘85.

————

Stomach growling and frustrated sighs indicate the need for a break at around 12:40 PM.

The conference had started on a good note, with seamless agreements between you, your client, and Eddie’s team. That was until your client decided to become rather difficult and demanding.

“We’ll pick up where we left off in ten minutes.”

The atmosphere in the room has become stuffy and tight over the hours, so you get up to stretch your legs on a short walk to the coffee cart in the hallway.

Your mind feels muddled, pushed to exhaustion from hours of reading documents and going back and forth with Eddie’s attorney. Nezza wants more than Eddie is willing to give, money-wise, property-wise, and everything else under the sun. You’re determined to get your client as much as possible, but it’s proving to be more of a struggle than expected; Eddie’s team is headstrong and unwilling to bend to your substantial advances. Oh, and Eddie’s been practically throwing daggers at you from across the table with each chance he can get.

As you stir in a sugar packet, you watch the dark brown liquid swirl in the foam cup. You fall into a short trance as you watch the tiny bubbles dance within your drink, but the sound of a throat clearing shatters the spell. You glance to your side where the person is standing and are surprised to be met with a leather-covered shoulder and dark brown curly hair. 

“Are you done with the sugar?” Eddie points towards your hand, and you blink, stuck as you stare at him for a moment. You know you should be professional, you’re an established attorney, and you’re in the middle of doing your job, but you’re also 100% fucking human, so— “I don’t know, are you done sending me death glares from across the table or do you wanna keep being an asshole?”

Eddie grabs the jar of sugar packets from your hand, “You wouldn’t have to put up with it if you just… quit the case.” Eddie shrugs as if his advice is a task as easy as folding towels. You take offense to his response, eyebrows pinching together as you watch him rip open a packet and sprinkle sugar into his cup, “I can’t just drop a case, Eddie.”

Eddie mockingly laughs, “Really? That’s weird; I mean, considering how you kind of just dropped everything and fled the fucking state, I’m sure you can drop a case just as easily, sweetheart.” 

His words hurt. As much as you wish he didn’t have that effect on you, it’s evident that he still does, considering how your neck heats up in anger. You don’t miss the pet name he slipped in; you hate that it makes your neck even warmer. “I didn’t flee the state; I went to fucking college— and how is that even my fault? I gave you the number to my dorm, and you never called.”

And Eddie remembers that letter you left him. He remembers it like the back of his hand. He memorized every sentence, including that stupid number you left for him. “Yes, I did. I called you after every show for months, and you never picked up!” 

You spent eight years in New York, and out of those eight years, you spent four of them staring at an ugly green phone on the wall of your dorm hallway, waiting for it to ring so you could pick it up and hear his voice again. You asked your roommate to listen for a call if she was up studying late or if you went out and she stayed in. Now, you wonder if she failed you on her part because you would’ve never, in a hundred years, missed Eddie’s call. Never.

Before you can respond to the information, you are being called back into the room to resume the conference—  you’d almost forgotten that’s what you were here for.

You and Eddie let the man know you’ll be right there and watch as he walks back into the room. When you turn to Eddie, his gaze is no longer on you as he tosses the small wooden stirring stick in the trash.

Eddie is silent for a moment before he looks at you and gives a forced, close-lipped smile, “It’s nice to know you’re still full of shit.”

And then he’s gone. Eddie leaves you there, stunned and offended by his words. Eddie Munson thinks you’re full of shit— as if you were the only one to blame for your falling out. You feel stupid for believing in a better-evolved version of the Eddie you’d known. You wish his words didn’t affect you, but the conversation has left a bitter taste on your tongue. You glance down at the cup of coffee in your hands, and your stomach churns. You no longer have an appetite for the drink.

————

Late-night club hopping has never been your preferred way of spending a Saturday night. There’s a different type of energy in LA’s club scene than there is in New York. It was easy to have a good time in New York; the clubs are all close to one another and stay open nearly all night. In Los Angeles, it’s been a slow rise to liking the nightlife— clubs are more scattered, and on top of that, you learned the hard way that it’s difficult to even get into clubs when you’re not Madonna-level status. That last problem isn’t so much an issue now that you’ve settled in and made a few connections around the city. 

Tonight you’re celebrating a friend from work's birthday. Penny was the first person you talked to at the law firm; she instantly made you feel at home and offered to buy you lunch at a cafe next door. The two of you have been joined at the hip ever since. 

You’re happy to celebrate Penny’s birthday and glad to be tagging along with her in this new chapter of her life, but what you’re bothered about is the fact that you chose to wear the most uncomfortable shoes in your closet. You were under the impression that you would be eating dinner with Penny and a few of her friends, but somehow, dinner turned into a night-long clubbing adventure. 

Logically, you have no one to blame but yourself for wearing Steve Madden pumps, but if Penny had told you the night would be long, you definitely wouldn’t have worn these god-awful shoes.

You’re sitting on a bar stool waiting for your drink and thinking about what excuse you’ll give Penny to go home when suddenly, you feel someone walk up beside you, waving over the bartender. You glance at the person and immediately look away, preparing to run for it before they notice. 

Sadly, you’re not fast enough to escape his line of sight, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re stalking me.”

You turn to the man and take in the sight of him as you tilt your head. “Wouldn’t it be the other way around since I was… you know, minding my business until you came here.” You motion to where Eddie is standing, and he smirks, silently taking his drink when the bartender passes it to him.

“How’d you get in here anyways?” He asks. It’s not a bad question; sure, you’re a damn good attorney, but you’re of no celebrity status, and this club is one of the more difficult joints to get into. However, you still take offense to Eddie’s question.

Your eyes narrow slightly, debating whether you should continue entertaining Eddie or leave and find your friends. “If you’re going to continue to be an asshole, then I’m leaving.”

“Fine by me; I want nothing to do with you.” Eddie scoffs into the rim of his drink before taking a short sip. You roll your eyes, feeling like kids in elementary getting into petty fights. “What makes you think I want something to do with you?”

Eddie snickers over the rim of his glass, “The fact that you’re still sitting here says enough.” 

You scoff, looking away from him as you shift in your seat, attempting to make it seem like you want to get away from him, but it only scoots you closer to him, your arm brushing his elbow. You panic at the touch but act as if it was nothing. “If my feet didn’t feel like they were about to fall off, I would be miles away from you by now.” You grumble as you distract yourself by tugging down the hem of your dress. 

“I don't believe that.” 

You let out an exasperated breath, looking over at Eddie with an annoyed expression as you speak, “Not everyone is head over heels dying to be around you.” 

It might be the alcohol or Eddie’s sinister pheromones you’re breathing in paired with the sound of his ridiculously annoying laugh—- you’re not sure which it is, but you find yourself enjoying this back-and-forth banter. A big part of you is frustrated by Eddie’s insistent prodding at your nerves, but your other part is intrigued. Too stuck to grab your things, bid him goodnight, and leave.

You almost think you heard him wrong when he responds, “We’ll see if you’re saying the same thing once I get you in the back.”

You blink, momentarily silent, as you glance at him to watch him calmly sip his drink. Not a single hint of regret or shock flashes across his face, and you almost think you imagined it until you see a ghost of a smirk brush the corner of his lips. “Excuse me?” And like a child, Eddie’s response is quick and irritating, “You’re excused.”

“You’re out of your mind if you think I’m willingly going anywhere with you that’s not a fucking law firm or courtroom.” 

Eddie laughs, glancing at you and nodding once, “Sure.” You hate how smug he is, and you hate that he’s so fucking right, but you swear you won’t fold for whatever stupid game he’s playing. “Sure?”

You watch Eddie tip back his drink and finish what’s left, placing the empty glass on the bar countertop before lazily nudging it forward. You shift back with an annoyed grimace when he turns to you and leans an elbow against the bar. He points over your shoulder, and you catch yourself before you follow his lead, gaze stuck on his face as you prepare for whatever bullshit is about to leave his mouth.

“I’m gonna head to the restroom to take a piss. You can sit here and bitch about everything under the sun, or you can quit being a pussy and meet me there.”

And without further explanation or interaction, Eddie gets up and leaves. You turn and watch in shock as he walks off, watching his back until it’s washed away by the sea of people on the dance floor. You turn back to the bar and gaze at your drink. For a moment, you think this might be some elaborate scheme Eddie has to fuck you over. Complying with this proposition, Eddie has now opened, could very well lead to you losing your job, something you’re not very keen on doing.

You glance towards the direction Eddie had walked off in and groan, briefly shutting your eyes as temptation washes over you. There’s no way this is real. There’s no way you’re actually thinking about going into that restroom with Eddie.

You take a deep breath, clenching your teeth in thought before muttering a curse. You’re fucking yourself over with this one, but you do it anyways. You toss back the rest of your drink, wincing at the bitterness, before hopping off the barstool.

Your adrenaline is so high that you don’t even feel the ache in your feet as you cross the dance floor, maneuvering through sweaty bodies and spilled drinks toward the bright neon RESTROOMS sign.

From the corner of your eye, you see Penny standing at her rented-out section as she tosses back a shot with the girls you’d arrived with. You should turn around and join them, return to celebrating Penny’s birthday, and forget all about your interaction with Eddie. That’s what you should do, but you don’t. You continue walking towards the restrooms, mentally going back and forth with yourself until you reach the door and wrap your hand around the handle.

However, the door opens before you can fully prepare to open it, and the scent of hand soap and Eddie hits you in the face. Your wide eyes meet Eddie’s glinting gaze. A smirk spreads across his lips, and he snickers, “I’d say I’m surprised, but that’d be a lie.”

Your gaze is hot and heavy as you stare up at him. The sounds of the club you're in seem muffled as you spend your last seconds considering what you’re about to do. You should really turn around.

You tilt your head up, silently sizing Eddie and daring him, a tipping point where you both know there’s no going back now—- especially not when you mesh your lips against his and stumble into the restroom. You plan to blame this on the alcohol.

Eddie makes quick work of turning to press your back against the door, fumbling to lock the door as you grumble a breathless ‘Fuck you’ against his lips.

“I intend to, sweetheart.” 

You hate how stupid and witty the response is, but it makes your stomach twist in need, nonetheless. Eddie’s hands are roaming and squeezing you wherever he can reach, hiking up your dress enough to slink a few digits into the hand of your skimpy panties, snapping them against your waist and smirking when you push up against him. Eddie manages to speak in between haste kisses, “I’m gonna be honest; I didn’t think you’d give in this easily.”

Eddie is now ushering you towards the sink, softly snickering at the gasp that escapes you when the cold marble digs into your lower back. “Are you trying to say I’m easy?” 

You can’t hold back the moan that slips from you when Eddie’s hand slithers between your thighs to press a thumb against your clit. “Maybe… also just pointing out that you clearly missed me.”

You don’t answer him, leaning forward to capture his lips in a heated kiss as your hips rock back and forth against his touch. You smooth your hand down his chest and over his belt to grasp the heavy bulge between his thighs, humming when he moans, “Looks like you missed me more, Munson.”

You giggle when he grunts in annoyance, fingers dipping into the waistband of your panties before shucking them down your legs and lifting the flimsy garment for you to see with a smirk, “Won’t be needing these anymore, will you?” 

You grimace in faux disgust as you watch him stuff the soaked material in his back pocket. “Gross,” you comment, although Eddie doesn’t answer, busying himself with pulling you off the counter, flipping you around to face the sink, and eyeing you through the neon-lighted mirror. “You’re a perv; you know that?” You add as Eddie wraps an arm around your front and hikes your dress to sink his hand between your thighs.

Your shaky fingers grasp Eddie’s wrist, hips squirming as he begins to rub your clit, dipping a finger lower to spread your sticky arousal. “If I were you, I would start being very nice to me.” His voice is low and gravely against your ear as you smile, gazing back into his darkened gaze through the glass reflection. You push back against him, and you both sigh in pleasure. “Just fuck me, Eddie.”

You gasp when he sinks a thick digit into your weeping cunt, slowly pushing it in and out of you to create a sinful twist in your tummy. You shake your head in protest, although your hips rock against his thrusts. “No, no, I don’t need it. I don’t need that. Just fuck me, please?” You repeat, voice teetering on the edge of a whine.

“God, you’re still a fucking brat. So used to getting what you want, hm?” Despite his comment, he doesn’t give you what you’d asked for. Instead, he slips in another finger, greedily squeezing at your chest with his other hand. Your thighs tremble as his fingertips delicately massage that sweet spot hidden between your wet walls, a shaky hand reaching up to grasp his hand as he fondles your breasts over your dress. “Not anymore, princess,” His voice is low and foggy with sex, purring against your ear with ease as he plays with you. “This time, you’ll earn it like a good slut. You’re going to have to ask me very nicely if you want it that bad.” “A-ah…Fuck you.”

Eddie laughs at your response, digging his face into your neck when you throw your head back, inhaling the intoxicating scent of your perfume. He presses a kiss to the base of your neck, and you hate how it makes your stomach twist, thighs clenching around his hand, causing him to pause. “Keep them open.” He warns, ignoring your pathetic attempts at rutting against his hand.

When you don’t obey his instruction, Eddie brings his foot in between your pump-clad feet, knocking the toe of his shoe against both heels, causing your legs to part, shaky limbs failing you as you stumble in his hold. Eddie chuckles, nipping your jaw as he sinks another finger into your soaking heat. Your moan is loud and pitiful as you reach forward to grasp the sink counter for stability. “Oh my god—” “Jesus, you’re fucking tight. Barely taking three fingers.” Your moans are high-pitched as you rock your hips against Eddie, nails digging into the skin of his flexing wrist as he fucks you with his fingers. 

The sloshing sounds from between your legs are just loud enough to hear over the booming music of the club barely, and if Eddie’s fingers weren’t fucking you so well, you would’ve felt ashamed. You hardly notice Eddie’s free hand traveling to the low neck of your dress, tugging the material down to expose your chest. He groans at the sight, palming one of your tits as his mouth latches to the side of your neck. His fingers pinch and roll your nipples, his tongue warm and wet as he licks up your neck, humming at the taste of you and smiling when he feels you tremble against his body. “I can feel you squeezing me, princess; you gonna cum for me?” He whispers against your ear, humming when you hastily nod. “I don’t think so.” 

He slows the draw of his fingers, softly petting at your walls to give enough sensation to have your eyes rolling but not enough to tip over the edge. You frustratedly huff, “Eddie—” “Good sluts ask to come, you know that.”

Your stomach twists at his words, hips squirming in search of more, more, more. You have a lot of pride; you’ve been told it’s your strongest and worst quality before— but here in this dingy club restroom, with Eddie’s overwhelming presence surrounding you and the incessant need to cum gnawing at every cell in your body, you find your pride quickly dwindling like a flame under water. The time when you need your pride the most, it’s nowhere to be found. 

“Please, Eddie.” You whisper so quietly Eddie almost misses it. He smiles, “Since I know how hard that was for you, I’ll take it— but I won't be so kind next time, princess.” He pulls his fingers out of you and urges you to turn around and face him. 

He nudges you back to sit on the edge of the sink, stepping between your thighs and opening them wide enough to see your glistening cunt, sticky arousal winking up at him beneath the dim neon lighting. “N-next time?” You take in a sharp breath as he hitches your leg around his waist

He chuckles, glancing at your swollen lips as you gaze up at him trying to fight through the hazy fog of arousal. Eddie runs three fingers over your clit before sinking back into you, a low hum rattling from his chest when your shaky hands grasp his shirt, fingers curling and wrinkling the material, “Next time.”

Your words get lost on you when he begins fucking you again, eyes fluttering shut as your legs subconsciously tighten around his waist. You can feel his breath against your top lip, and you fight the urge to seek out his lips with yours. You push up into him, mumbling incoherent pleas into the air. You lick your lips, pussy clenching when the tip of your tongue catches Eddie’s bottom lip. Eddie doesn’t wait for you to make a move this time, his free hand reaching up to grip your jaw, fingertips digging into your cheek as he pushes his lips against yours. You both moan into the kiss, your hips grinding into the thrusts of his fingers.

You keep kissing Eddie until you can’t, too overwhelmed by the pending promise of an orgasm. You slide away from Eddie’s lips and nuzzle into his neck, finding solace in the soft brush of his hair against your face, the distant but familiar scent of his shampoo invading your senses. “I’m gonna come.” You whisper, nails digging into his biceps as your thighs quiver.

Eddie keeps his hand working between your thighs, thanking the many hours he’s spent playing guitar for training his wrist to maintain endurance. His other hand dances up your heaving back, dipping beneath the curtain of your hair to grip the back of your neck, softly squeezing in encouragement. “Let go, baby. Let me feel it.”

You nearly sob when you finally tip over, body tensing before melting against Eddie’s body in shambles of incoherent words and shaking limbs. You can hear the sticky wet substance of your release squelching around his fingers; you can feel it smearing against your thighs and dripping onto the cool tiles of the floor, and you almost feel ashamed when Eddie points it out, “Fuckkk, you’ve been saving this for me, haven’t you?” You hardly register his words, but you nod, mewling as you nuzzle deeper against him, thighs twitching when you teeter on the edge of sensitivity.

“I… Enough, Eddie, please fuck me.” You’re practically begging, pulling away from his neck to blink up at him blearily, sex-drunk hands fumbling to reach out for him. Eddie kisses you and chuckles against your lips, fingers finally slowing down. He pulls away with a lewd hum, leaning back to watch as he removes his fingers from your cunt, dragging the drenched digits up to smear your arousal around your clit, grinning when your thighs twitch.

You try to catch your breath as you silently watch him bring his fingers up to his lips, sinking them into his mouth to sinfully lick your cum from his fingers. He glances at you with a smirk around his fingers, and you squirm in your spot. “You’re being a tease.”

He releases his fingers with a pop before stepping away, “Sorry to cut this short, sweetheart, but I’ve gotta run, and I’m sure your friends are worried about where you went.” You watch in disbelief as he glances in the mirror and fixes a few unruly hair pieces. He looks your way and drops his eye in a wink, “I’ll see you later, princess.”

You silently gape in shock, watching him turn around and stride toward the door. Eddie can feel your eyes throwing darts at him, and he doesn’t bother hiding his smile as he opens the door and steps out. 

You have to take a moment to wrap your head around it, but once you do, you wind up more annoyed with yourself for falling so quickly into Eddie’s trap. You clean yourself up and make yourself look presentable again before leaving the restroom to find your friends. 

“Where have you been? I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Penny exclaims once she sees you. She gasps when you get closer, and she sees your neck, leaning in to get a better look, causing you to slap a hand over the sore spot. “Oh, my god. Who?” “What?” “You were definitely screwing someone in the back! Who?”

You wince at her volume, quickly shushing her, “Nobody, Penny, this is old.” 

Penny rolls her eyes and opens her mouth to say something, but you quickly cut her off, “I have an early meeting tomorrow, Pen; I have to get going.” Penny frowns but understands either way, giving you a quick hug and bidding you goodbye for the night. You leave her with a final Happy Birthday and make your way out of the club, already yearning for the comfort of your bed.

Before getting a taxi, you find yourself walking into a nearby store and purchasing a CD of Corroded Coffin’s first album, letting the CD burn a hole through your hands on the ride home. When you get home, you fall asleep atop your sheets before you can listen to the record. 

You spend the rest of your night dreaming of hazy summers in Hawkins with a young curly-headed boy you knew once upon a time.

————

a/n: aH, i hope this was good, next part will be a bit more angsty so this part was for the sluts <3

————

teeny taglist: @eviethetheatrefreak , @sidthedollface2, @peachysink, @hereforshmut, @duncanhillscoffeecups

#FINALLY FINISHED IT !! #HOPE ITS GOOD ENJOYYYY #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #drabble #eddie x reader #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson au #rockstar!eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson smut #eddie x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson headcanon #eddie x fem!reader #stranger things au #stranger things #rockstar!eddie x reader #rockstar!eddie smut #ex boyfriend!eddie munson

[mrsriddles-blog]

Get Him Back | D.M

Pairing: Slytherin Fem Reader X Ex-Draco Malfoy X Theodore Nott

WC: 4k+

Warnings/Notes: Bullying, mild language, heartbreak, angst…

Summary: In which, you and Draco ended on a bad note and you’ve decided to seek out revenge…but unexpectedly you fall in love.

Authors Notes: Honestly, not my best piece… :/ I know I could’ve done better, but I kinda just went with it on this. Theodore was unplanned lol

One, two, three

Wait, is the song with the drums?

“Draco, I understand that Miss. Y/n Riddle is quite pretty, but I would like for you to pay attention to my lesson.” Professor McGonagall says.

The class laughs and you refuse to turn around to give Draco that attention after everything you had been through with him. Pansy smiles sadly at you, seeing exactly how much this hurt you.

You knew Draco from around Hogwarts, but you both had gotten together over the summer after getting closer once your families came to know each other. Everything was perfect in the beginning, but it all came crashing down eventually.

Draco is quite good at hiding his true colors, especially at the beginning of a relationship. You learned that he hid those true colors for so long in hopes it would be harder for you to leave…that you would learn to deal with it like it was normal.

You’ve told Pansy that somewhere in his delusional mind that he must’ve forgotten you're a Riddle and you don’t put up with anyones bullshit. You don’t tolerate anyone's disrespect though…maybe a bad trait you picked up from your father, but it’s okay.

Draco was a sweet guy, but then it turned out he had a big ego and he was a narcissistic liar. He was the most fun guy you knew and he had weird friends like Crabbe and Goyle. They were funny too. He used his name and money to get you both into the coolest parties, nights that you felt like would never end.

But, then he started to show more of his true colors. He learned when he began to say things wrong or his lies somehow got twisted back on himself, that he could just take you to a place you dreamed of or to buy you a “sentimental” gift. You found yourself missing him on nights you felt really sad or alone, but your feelings for him were up and down. You knew you wanted to get him back for what he did to you. You want him to hurt the way he hurt you.

I met a guy in the summer and I left him in the spring

He argued with me about everything

He had an ego and a temper and a wandering eye

He said he’s six-foot-two, and I’m like, “Dude, nice try”

But he was so much fun and he had such weird friends

And he would take us out to parties and the night would never end

Another song, another club, another bar, another dance

And when he said something wrong, he’d just fly me to France

So I miss him some nights when I’m feeling depressed

‘Til I remember every time he made a pass on my friend

Do I love him? Do I hate him? I guess it’s up and down

If I had to choose, I would say right now

Pansy was dressed as an angel for the Halloween party and you were dressed as a devil. You wore a tight black mini-dress, and Pansy wore a tight white mini-dress. She had angel wings and a halo while you had devil horns and a tail. She wore white heels while you wore black. You stood in the corner with Tom, Mattheo, Theodore, Enzo and Blaise as you watched Pansy go get you both drinks.

She was on her way back when Draco approached her. You watch his flirty smile as he trails his hand up her arm to her face. You watch as that flirty smile dropped and his face twisted to one of pain as he crouched down to grab himself. You smirk as Pansy strides to you and hands you a green solo cup.

“Can you believe him? He just tried to make a pass on me? After the shit he did to you, he thought he had a chance with your bestie? He truly is a delusional fuck.” She snorts.

“He did that a lot when we were dating. He always had a wandering eye…I just thought I was being over-sensitive or something.” You say, glancing over at Draco who was now sulking at the bar.

“Hey, don’t let that dumb fuck make you sad. He is nothing to you.” She says sternly.

You smile, unconvinced as you down the drink in your cup. Mattheo and Tom watch with frowns, knowing very well you weren’t over Draco. They looked at each other before making their way over to the bar. You and Pansy moved out to the dance floor, dancing as Enzo and Theodore kept watch over you both.

You both stopped dancing like everyone else as you heard a commotion. You follow the shouting and see your brothers beating the fuck out of Draco. You push through the crowd, trying to diffuse the fight when Theodore wraps an arm around your waist.

“He deserves it fiore, just let it go.” He murmurs in your ear.

“But, if we don’t break this up…Tom and Mattheo could potentially get caught. If Snape hears this, he will be so mad. If they get in trouble and our dad finds out…they’ll get in so much trouble.” You say.

“Trust me, they won’t get in trouble. Your father has requested this to happen.” He murmurs.

You were at a loss for words as Mattheo and Tom stepped back, leaving Draco on the floor. He barely lifts his head, his eyes locking with yours before Mattheo throws another punch at his face, cursing him for even daring to look at you. You struggle against Theodore, but you manage to reach forward and put a hand on Mattheo’s shoulder.

“Matty, please.” You plead.

“This fucker deserves this and more for everything he did to you.” He snaps.

You flinch, not use to that tone from Mattheo. Growing up with the father you had, you three were always together. Granted, you three had a strange bond for being triplets, but your brothers had shown you a side they never showed anyone. Mattheo tensed as Tom sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he glares at Mattheo.

You take your hand off his shoulder, pulling away from Theodore before storming through the crowd before hearing a random girl laugh about you being sensitive. You turn, throwing a punch at her nose, hearing the satisfying crack as she falls backwards, unconscious.

You turn, continuing your trek to your dorm where you slam the door, locking it before lying on your bed. You grab the jumper that was Draco’s. You had stolen it from him, it was his favorite. You throw it in the fireplace, watching it burn with a sick satisfaction growing in the pit of your stomach.

I wanna get him back

I wanna make him really jealous, wanna make him feel bad

Oh, I wanna get him back

‘Cause then again, I really miss him, and it makes me real sad

Oh, I want sweet revenge

And I want him again

I want to get him back, back, back

“You can’t ignore me forever.” Mattheo sighs as he follows you to the Great Hall.

“She can, and she probably will.” Tom says, following as well, his hands stuffed into his pockets.

“She is ignoring you too dipshit.” He snaps.

Draco walks up to you, glancing at your brothers fearfully and you tilt your head at him, a small smirk on your face.

“Y/n/n, can we talk?” He asks.

“No.” You say.

“I want…I want to apologize…I messed up, royally and I just…I really miss you.” He says.

“Hey, fiore.” Theodore says, coming up beside you.

He wraps an arm around your waist, leaning down to kiss your head. You look up at him and smile. He smiled back, your brothers gaping at you both from behind you guys.

“You’ve…moved on with the guy I was worried about you cheating on me with?” He asks in disbelief.

“Malfoy…if I were you, I’d get out of my fucking face. If you truly knew Y/n, you would know you wouldn’t have to worry about her cheating. When she gives you the chance to love her as she does you, you take that fucking chance and hold onto it fucking tight.” Theodore says, splaying a hand on your back and stomach as he angles himself between you and Draco.

Draco scoffs, looking you over once before storming out of the Great Hall. You look up at Theodore and smile.

“Couldn’t have had better timing.” You say and he grins.

“Oh, I know.” He says.

“Um, excuse me. When the fuck did this happen?” Mattheo asks, stepping between you two, Theodore’s hands leaving you.

“We are fake dating in order to get Draco back. I wanted revenge and I decided to hit him where it hurts.” You explain.

“Fake dating…right.” He murmurs, looking at Theodore.

“Come on, fiore.” Theodore says, walking you to the table.

“Awww, I broke my streak of ignoring them.” You grumble.

“I think you ignored them long enough, fiore. They’ve apologized more than I’ve witnessed them fight…and they fight a lot.” He says, chuckling as your brothers take a seat at the table.

“So, what are the rules for this…fake dating?” Mattheo asks.

“No falling in love.” You say, picking at your plate of food.

“Like that ever works.” Mattheo mumbles, Tom the only one able to hear him.

Theodore wraps his arm around your waist, looking over at you for a moment. You glance down the table to see Draco glaring at Theodore. You felt a tinge of pride before you felt guilty for the fake-dating thing with Theodore. You knew he always had feelings for you, but you hoped that he’d get over it. But, by how easily he agreed to this plan of yours…you were pretty sure there were some underlying feelings there still.

So I write him all these letters and I throw them in the trash

‘Cause I miss the way he kisses me and the way he made me laugh

Yeah, I pour my little heart out, but as I’m hitting “Send”

I picture all the faces of my disappointed friends

Because everyone knew all of the shit that he’d do

He said I was the only girl but that just wasn’t the truth

And when I told him how he hurt me, he’d tell me I was trippin’

But I am my father’s daughter, so maybe I could fix him

“Theodore, are you ready?” You groan impatiently.

“Almost, fiore.” He calls from the bathroom.

You walk over to the mirror in his dorm, smoothing out the skin-tight dark green dress. You fix your hair, before looking yourself over in the mirror once more. You nod just as Theodore walks out. You look over to see him dressed in black dress pants, a white button up shirt that wasn’t buttoned all the way. Some of his sculpted chest was on show. His hair was a fluffy mess as usual.

“You look beautiful, fiore.” He murmurs.

Your cheeks flush red, smiling shyly at him as you nod. He chuckles, one that went straight to your core. You guys walk out and decide to immediately go to dance. As you're dancing, his eyes flicker over your shoulder as they harden.

He pulls you closer to him, his hand wandering down your ass and grabbing it roughly. You gasp, looking up at him to see him look down at you. He leans down and kisses you, one that is deep and passionate. Your hands get lost in his hair and you realize that somewhere along the way, you broke the number one rule: don't fall in love.

Somewhere along the way, you fell for his tender love and care. Not to mention how sweet and gentle he was with you. He treated you as if you were royalty and it was sweet. You found yourself loving the way he laughs and the way he grabs your ass. You pull back, only to pull him back into a kiss.

“I think I broke our rule.” You whisper against his lips.

“You didn’t say anything about already being in love, so I technically didn’t break it. I just hoped that maybe you’d realized how much you mean to me.” He murmurs.

“I’m sorry, Theo…I should’ve realized sooner.” You admit quietly.

“Don’t apologize. I have you now and that is all that matters. However, I know you've been wanting to get Malfoy back and I don’t blame you.” He says, swaying with you to the sensual song.

“No, no, enough of this getting Malfoy back. Malfoy had his chance. Yes, he fucked up…but I can’t keep letting that hold me back. I’ve been sulking over a relationship that didn’t work out for obvious reasons and all along…I should’ve been with the person who was standing right in front of me.” You mumble.

“We’ll get him back together. But, as an official girlfriend and boyfriend duo. Maybe next time he’ll think before breaking a good girl's heart.” He murmurs.

“Nott, I get that you both are confessing your love right now, but please get your hand off my sister's ass.” Mattheo calls.

Theodore chuckles, looking down at you, squeezing your ass once more before moving his hand back to your hip. Your cheeks flush red as you shake your head in amusement.

I wanna get him back

I wanna make him really jealous, wanna make him feel bad

Oh, I wanna get him back

‘Cause then again, I really miss him, and it makes me real sad

Oh, I want sweet revenge

And I want him again

I want to get him back (and then? And then)

I want to get him back, back, back

You were in detention with Theodore, Mattheo, Tom and Draco. Mattheo and Tom got to sit together while you and Theodore got to sit together. Draco was sulking in the front of the room. You and Theodore were cuddled up together, whispering and laughing quietly.

“Okay, I get it. You are all happy, but will tone it the fuck down.” Draco seethes.

“Malfoy, I get it. You are throwing yourself a pity party because you let the best girl in this world slip through your fingers. But, that was your fucking fault. Just because you're pissed doesn’t mean you can take away her happiness. I’ll beat the fuck out of you before letting that happen again.” Theodore warns.

“I’ll help.” Mattheo chirps, grinning at Draco.

“So will I…I’m sure you remember that my methods are a bit more practical…like my fathers.” Tom says, looking at Draco unamused.

“Whatever.” Draco mumbles.

“Let’s get out of here. I have an idea.” You whisper to Theodore.

“Bet.” He murmurs.

You both were quick to leave, laughing quietly as you both snuck back to the Common Room. You grab his hand, dragging him along to the boys dormitories.

“Fiore, where are we going?” Theodore murmurs confused as you both passed his dorm.

“I figured out a way to get Malfoy back. We do it and get back to detention before Snape notices.” You murmur, excitement dancing across your features.

“Take it away, fiore.” He murmurs.

You continue to lead Theodore down the hall until you reach Draco’s dorm. You use a spell, unlocking his door before you both slip in. You see his broom in the corner of the room and grin. You pull the key to your dorm out before you start to completely ruin his broom. Theodore was quietly laughing from where he stood as you continued your handiwork. You stand, the both of you giggling as you both hurry back to detention.

“Where did you lovebirds sneak off to?” Mattheo asks.

“I got hungry.” You say simply.

“And I follow her wherever she goes. I’m simply only allowed a chains length away. She’s got me on a tight leash.” Theodore teases.

“Oh shush, I do not.” You say, your cheeks flushing red.

“Mhm, right.” He teases with his perfect small smile.

I wanna key his car (I want to get him back)

I wanna make him lunch (but then I, I want to get him back)

I wanna break his heart (but then I, I want to get him back)

And be the one to stitch it up (but then I, I want to get him back)

Wanna kiss his face (but then I, I want to get him back)

With an uppercut (but then I, I want to get him back)

I wanna meet his mom (but then I, I want to get him back)

Just to tell her her son sucks (but then I, I want to get him back)

“Who did it?” Draco demands, storming into the Common Room with his destroyed broom.

You look over, fighting the smirk that wanted to appear on your face. Your handiwork looked quite brilliant if you say so for yourself. So, this is what sweet revenge feels like? Theodore continues to rub your legs that were draped across his lap.

“Was it you?” He asks, storming towards you.

Theodore jumps up, standing in front of you as your brothers flank Theodore’s side. You stand up, only for Theodore to push you back on the couch. With one warning look from him, your ass was planted on the couch.

“You don’t get to come in here demanding stuff, Malfoy. Especially from my girl. If you ever come at her like that again, you’ll be in for a rude awakening.” Theodore warns.

“She has literally been striving to ruin my life because she can’t handle a summer fling.” He snaps.

“No, she hasn’t strived to do anything you idiot. You know it wasn’t a summer fling. It was a relationship that you messed up.” Mattheo snaps.

You push past Theodore, ignoring his stern scolding. You look Draco dead in the eye, before taking another step forward.

“If I’ve wanted to ruin your life, trust me, it would be in shambles by now. I’m far more capable and far more cruel than my brothers and father. There is a reason our mother isn’t named and trust me, I’m far too much like her.” You warn.

“Just admit it! This was you! My father will kill me if he finds out my new broom is ruined! You should know better than anyone!” He snaps.

“You're scared of your father? You're scared of what he might do? Well clearly you haven’t met my father.” You laugh coldly, shaking your head.

“Y/n…just admit it. Please.” He pleads.

“Admit to something that I had no hand in? I think you forget that you’ve got far too many enemies on your plate. Keep it up and I will give you something to worry about.” You murmur quietly, so only he could hear you.

He shakes his head, turning and leaving. You turn and look up at Theodore who was looking down at you with a stern look.

“Oh, come on. I handled that very well.” You sigh.

“Maybe. Maybe not. You should’ve stayed behind me and let us handle it. God knows what Malfoy would be willing to do to you.” He says, a frown evident on his face.

“But, I can handle my own problems.” You mumble.

“I know, but I’m here to help you.” He sighs, running a hand over his face.

You plop onto the couch, ignoring him as you felt both guilty and upset. You wanted to let him be happy with helping you, but you also wanted to be able to defend yourself. Theodore sighs, lifting your legs as he sits down next you, putting your legs on his lap.

“I know you can take care of yourself, but I want to be able to protect you. That summer…I could tell how much you loved and cared for Malfoy and he couldn’t even reciprocate that and he strived off hurting you. It hurt me to see you hurting…to see you with him when I wanted to be with you. I wanted to take care of you and to protect you…I wanted to show you what love could really be.” He says.

“I understand that, Theo…I do, but you can’t shield me from the world. There are some battles that are mine to fight. But, I’m not saying I don’t need you there with me. You’re my rock.” You explain.

Oh, I wanna key his car (I want to get him back)

I wanna make him lunch

I wanna break his heart (but then I, I want to get him back)

Stitch it right back up

I wanna kiss his face (I want to get him back)

With an uppercut

I wanna meet his mom (but then I, I want to get him back)

And tell her her son sucks, yeah

“Alright, are we done with this Malfoy revenge thing? Because as far as I know…you’ve made him jealous of you and Theodore…fake dating that led to real dating…ruining his broom…what else?” Mattheo murmurs.

“And there!” You exclaim as his pumpkin juice ends up all over his face and the front of his shirt.

“Is that it?” He asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

You shrug, unsure. You felt like there was one more thing you needed to do to ensure your revenge. You knew it wasn’t the brightest thing to keep doing this to Draco. Some would view that you had done enough. But, you weren’t so sure. Draco hurt you in ways you didn’t think was possible. You always thought of yourself as stronger than that.

“Draco has been talking about you.” Pansy says, taking a seat across from you after pushing Mattheo down the bench.

“Rude.” He grumbles.

“Oh, what has he been saying?” You ask curiously.

“That he misses you…that he feels bad…he might’ve said something about Theo, but I’m not sure if it’s true or not.” She says.

“What did he say about Theo?” You ask.

“That he’s been seeing other girls behind your back.” She mumbles.

“No, no, that’s not true. Theo wouldn’t ever do that.” You say, shaking your head.

“He has a track record.” Pansy mumbles.

You stay quiet, looking down at Draco before grabbing your bag and pulling out a truth potion. You pour it into your cup of pumpkin juice before switching yours and Theodore’s cups.

“Should I be concerned that you just have those on you?” Tom asks.

“It’s for good reason.” You mutter, tucking your bag away as Theodore walks in.

He sits, taking a drink of his pumpkin juice before looking around the table confused as they were all glancing at each other.

“So…my father has asked me to question you…in order for us to protect Y/n/n from getting hurt anymore.” Tom says.

“Ask away.” Theodore says.

“Are you being true to my sister?” He asks.

“Yes.” He murmurs.

“Is Y/n the only girl or do you have other side pieces?” He asks.

“Y/n is the only girl.” He says, his hand grabbing yours under the table.

“Do you love her?” He asks.

“Yes.” He says.

“What are your intentions with her?” He asks.

“To love her…to protect her… to cherish her and give her the world. I want to shield her from anymore hurt. Trust me, I never want to see her hurting again.” He says.

I wanna get him back

I wanna make him really jealous, wanna make him feel bad

Oh, I wanna get him back

‘Cause then again I really miss him, and it makes me real sad

Oh, I want sweet revenege

And I want him again

I want to get him back (and then? And then)

I want to get him back, back, back, back

“My lord, I-I’m sorry.” Draco stutters.

You were being held by Theodore. He had an arm around your waist, keeping you pulled back against him. He had a hand over your mouth so that your father wouldn’t be angry with you for trying to protect Draco. Despite everything Draco did to you, you knew even this was too far.

“You hurt my daughter. Do you know how much she means to me? She means the world to me and no one is allowed to hurt her.” Voldemort snarls.

Except you, you think.

“I’m s-sorry my lord! I’m so sorry! Please, please, I’ll do anything! Just make this stop, my lord! Please!” He pleads.

“You’ll be daunted with extra tasks and knowing that if you don’t finish them, the death of your father and mother before your eyes will be your fault before I kill you myself. Stay away from Y/n or I’ll ruin you myself, Malfoy.” He warns.

He let Draco up who left quickly, not sparing a glance back. Theodore uncovered your mouth before your father could see. He wipes the stray tear off your cheek right before your father turned to you.

“He’ll stay away from you now, princess.” Voldemort murmurs, stepping forward and cupping your cheek.

“T-Thank you father.” You whisper.

“Of course. Now go on.” He murmurs.

I’ll get him, I’ll get him, I’ll get him, I’ll get him back

Get him back, come on, come on

I’m gonna get him so good, he won’t even know what hit him

He’s gonna love me and hate me at the same time

Get him back, girl, you better get him back

I don’t know I got him good, I got him really good

#harry potter universe #hp fandom #slytherin #theodore nott #pansy parkinson #slytherin x reader #theodore nott x reader #angst #heartbreak #draco malfoy x reader #riddle reader #tom riddle #matteo riddle #song fic #Spotify

[rosewaterandivy]

Prompt fill #51 from here for @cherrychilli | rockstar e.m. x stage manager reader

He’s incorrigible, honestly. You’re glad he’s back in the swing of things again, but that doesn’t mean he has to be such a… well, idiot. All smiles and jokes and winking way too much for your comfort. And it definitely doesn’t help that your visibility flustered when his attention does fall on you.

Ugh, stupid flirty Eddie who always flirts with you the most.

“Bossma’am,” comes loudly through the mic during sound check and you throw withering stare in Mike’s direction. Those audio levels are a war crime. He shrinks back with a grimace, a half-hearted ‘Sorry!’ directed toward you.

Eddie clears his throat, thankfully away from the mic. “Bossma’am, remember when you called me handsome?” He asks, winking at Jeff before settling his eyes on you.

Fuck. You grit your teeth, so you’d called him handsome like one time! It was simply an objective fact, for chrissake. He was all gussied up for some reason or another–poised and tall–and his legs are so long. Okay! He’s gorgeous! You had two eyes for crying out loud… and maybe, possibly didn’t despise looking at him.

That doesn’t mean you like him.

He’s ridiculous.

And that’s putting it lightly.

He’s rocking a bona fide disaster of an outfit today, sneakers, shorts, bowling shirt embroidered with the name ‘Slick’ and all, prancing around stage during sound check all while your eyebrows nearly disappear into your hairline.

He’s paused his current line of inquiry to tongue-fuck the straw in his drink as you stare him down. His eyes are fixed on you from across the stage while he ignores everyone around him.

“Like what you see Bossma’am?” A waggle of his brows. A poorly executed wink. Both his eyes shut. That’s not a wink. That’s a blink.

“No,” You grunt. “I do not.”

You’re gonna strangle him.

You had told him explicitly to leave the drink side-stage and just settle for a water bottle during sound check. That was twenty minutes ago and now you have to deal with him showing off his–ahem, skills.

It’s harmless, you know this.

But that doesn’t mean you can’t have some fun with it.

Teach him a lesson, as it were.

You walk closer to the apron of the stage, catching his attention, “Babyboy,” you groan overtly.

Eddie nearly chokes on the straw going fifty shades of red, “Babywhat?!”

You lean forward on your palm and stare lustfully into his eyes as he continues to flush pink and red.

“Eddie,” You purr, “Are you trying to seduce me?”

Jeff sputters indignantly at the same time Eddie does, his little game trying desperately to hold itself together. With a cough, he continues, “D-depends… Are you… seducible?”

You bite back a laugh to avoid breaking character because there’s no way seducible is an actual word.

You lick your lips and smile, tongue sweeping across a canine, “Sure am, sugar.”

His eyes blow wide in shock as he lurches back away from you, shuddering with his entire body and strutting away in those damn sneakers. “No. No. Don’t like it,” He says careening toward Robin and the drum kit, “Mother, hold me. I’m scared.”

Jeff merely laughs and bumps your fist, “Well played Bossma’am.”

You accept the compliment as you walk back to your seat radioing into the headset to hear Dustin’s laughter, “Okay, let’s take it from the top!”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson drabble #cee’s request weekend

[lilpomelito]

girldads Steve and Eddie. their oldest looooves sports and she's crazy good at soccer (making auntie Robin proud). everyone would assume Steve would be her biggest fan (and he is!) but it's actually Eddie the one who's getting into loud arguments and even fights with all the other soccer moms. yes Jennifer your brat just kicked my baby on fucking purpose she has to get a red card this is so unfair and Steve has to drag him away to stop him from strangling another kid's parent. their girl loves the drama, she's kind of a queen bee who lives for her dad's crazy sense of theatrics.

and then their youngest wants to learn music and she starts with guitar because that's what's at home and Eddie is so proud of how quickly his baby is learning, then Steve teaches her what he remembers from his piano lessons. but she wants more, so she asks robin for trumpet lessons. but that's not enough she seems to be some kind of music savant and plays the violin next, and then the drums when she convinces Garreth to teach her. then she begs for oboe lessons. she's a little rascal stealing instruments from the school's music classroom. and you'll find Steve loudly arguing with the principal when she gets caught again, no I won't stop her, yes she has ten instruments at home but she wants to learn more, what kind of institution is determined to stagnate a kid's learning development? and Eddie has to rescue them both before his husband gets their child expelled from the expensive fancy school for gifted kids

#just Steve and Eddie very aggressively supporting their girls interests #because they know how awful it feels when your own parents don't give a shit about you #grandpa Wayne remains the best tho #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #stranger things #girldads steddie #mine

[doxypsychlean]

Hi. Can i request a aegon ii x rhaenyra's daughter. Maybe they marry in secret after the dinner of episode 8.

Of course you can, dear stranger! Hope you like it:)

Marry you|Aegon II Targaryen xTarg!Reader

Warnings: Explicit language

Thou shan't repost/copy/ translate any of my work or I'll sneak into your home late at night and bite your nose off!

A/N: Tumblr decided it'd be funny to mess with me and the first version didn't save. I've learned my lesson but tbh, it huuurt. Anyhoo- for the sake of this whole thing, let's pretend like she's didn't leave with her mother to Dragonstone, but instead stayed in King's Landing. Don't ask, I have no idea of how or why something like that would work either. Oh also, him and Helaena are still married to eachother. However, I didn't make it a point to mention their kids, so... Do with that as you wish. Cheers!

..................

The prince stole a quick glance at his niece as he reached for the wine decanter that just so happened to be placed right in front of her. She didn't even acknowledge him, too busy laughing along with Princess Baela at something her younger brother,Jacaerys, had just said to the two. The jealousy was eating him alive. Why? He had no idea, earlier that day the princess Rhaenys had announced the betrothal of Jacaerys and Baela Velaryon. Not to mention, Aegon himself was a married man. He had no right to feel jealous. Even so, he couldn't stop himself from drumming his fingers on the wooden table in annoyance. His brother was quick to notice, considering he sat not that far from him. Prince Aemond gave his older brother a knowing look, his usual smirk on his face.

"Oh Jace, you haven't changed one bit!" The princess said, hand now resting on her brother's shoulder as she wiped at the happy tears that pricked at her eyes.

His nostrils flared, lungs expanding to their full capacity. His heart was beating so fast, Aegon was afraid it was going to shatter all his ribs in attempt to get out. That damn bastard, he thought to himself.

The silver haired man was quick to pour the contents of his glass down his throat. As he placed his cup back on the table, he looked around. A certain pair of eyes had already been staring at him. A smile flashed on the Rogue Prince's face and dissappeared just as quickly. His attention turned back to his wife, leaving Aegon to drown in jealousy and resentment.

Aegon Targaryen, second of his name, wasn't the type that would get flustered easily. And yet, his hands were starting to sweat. He brushed his palms on the fabric that covered his thighs, then got up. He circled around his niece and nephew that were talking about Gods know what and stopped between Jace and Baela. His hand extended out towards the wine decanter. He poured himself another glass.

"I..." Aegon hesitated for a second there. He was sure he'd get an earful for what he was about to say, from both his mother and niece. "I regret the disappointment you are soon to suffer."

The attention of everyone around the table had turned to him. They could all sense it, he was about to say something extremely idiotic and inappropriate.

"But if you ever wish to know what it is to be well satisfied, all you have to do is ask."

Two pairs of hands slammed down on the table, both brother and sister rising to their feet. A sharp "Jace!" could be heard coming from lady Velaryon. Everyone heard it, except Jace. And his sister. The two stared down the young prince as he went back and took his seat, each for their own reasons.

"Pray tell, Aegon, was any of what you just did out there really necessary!?" She practically yelled as she slammed the doors of his chambers shut.

"I have no idea what you're talking about" He yelled back. Of course he was drunk. Has there ever been a time when he wasn't...

"You brat, I haven't seen my family in ages!" She shoved him hard. "Leave it to you and your brother to ruin everything..."

"I am your family, aren't I?" The prince croaked, his throat had gone as dry as a desert.

"Don't you fucking dare, I refuse to play this little game with you, you-"

"Do you love him?" He interrupted.

The young Targaryen girl in front of him frowned, her face twisting in disgust.

"He's my brother, you arse."

"That doesn't answer my question now, does it?" He was pushing it. Really pushing.

"He's my fucking brother, Aegon! My baby brother! How could you even ask me such a thing with a straight face?!" Her small hands landed a hit after hit to his chest.

"Because I do." The prince caught her hands mid-air, eliciting a shocked gasp out of the girl.

"I love you." His whole body shook as the words spilled out his mouth. " I think I've always loved you..."

His hands went back down to his sides, letting go of her. Aegon was quick to turn his back to her, letting the tears and sweat run down his face freely. He could feel it, he was about to vomit all over the floor.

"Oh, you insufferable twat!"

In the blink of an eye, Prince Aegon found himself facing the woman once more. His whole world melted seconds after.

A pair of soft lips crashed rather violently against his. Two gentle hands gripped each side of his face, still not sure whether or not they should claw his eyes out right where he stood. His found their way around her midsection as they fell, knees slamming into the cold floor.

She pulled back as he tried to deepen the kiss.

"I hate you so,so much...You complete and utter moron." The woman huffed as she brushed the silver locks off of his sweaty forehead.

"Marry me" it was more of a statement that it was a question.

"Huh?"

"You heard." His nose brushed against hers, a smile on his face.

"But...Helaena. And my mother. And your mother-"

"I've made my choice already. And you?"

She kissed him again, this time much softer. She'd made her choice long ago.

#aegon ii x reader #aegon ii targaryen #aegon the second #hotd fanfic #hotd #game of thrones #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #oneshot #accepting requests #aemond targaryen fanfic #daemon targaryen #dance of dragons #rhaenyra targaryen

[misssmina]

kirishima is a drummer

his moms put him in drum classes for one reason or another i feel it in my bones

I raise you one better!!

Musician!Kirishima did take drum lessons but never really had a passion for it, then did the same with piano, but still wasn’t really into it.

But what he did love was singing, even with his untrained, raspy voice, he loved it. He loved singing all kinds of rock songs that would strain his throat a little each time, but it felt right. He loved the poetry and lyricism within rap and hip hop music as well— the ability to tell quick, concise stories with music amazed him.

But he never told anyone. He didn’t find himself impressive, it was kinda just a thing he could do? Just like his quirk— Just a thing he could do.

And when the cultural festival came, his classmates passing around the idea of a performance, excitement bubbled in his stomach. He’d finally be able to sing!! Or play!! Or anything!! But the lump in his throat kept him quiet. He nodded along and agreed to do some backstage work. The festival came and went.

Months flew by quickly, Kirishima continuing to only sing in the comfort of his dorm, maybe making beats on his desk with a pencil if he was really into it. Until one day he was interrupted by a few loud bangs on his door—

“You can fucking sing?!”

What Jirou was doing in order to hear him was a mystery. Kirishima finally swallowed the nervous lump in his throat and choked out, “I—..Yeah?”

#bnha eijiro kirishima #mha kirishima #kirishima headcanon #bnha kirishima #kirishima x reader #mha eijirou #my hero headcanons #my hero acedamia #jirou kyouka #boku no hero academia #boku no hero headcanons #bnha headcanons #misssmina #my hero academia #bnha #mha #bnha eijirou

[batnatscatt]

Eau D’bedroom Dancing

PJHazel: 2.8k

Tags: fair bit of swearing, implied nsfw, autistic Hazel because I say so, they/them Hazel also because I say so, PJ-typical fuckery

Their rings dig into their chin, the feeling somewhat uncomfortable but not enough so to keep them from dozing. Their hand rests under their chin, keeping their head propped up as they drift in and out of the lesson. Another train of nameless meatheads had kept them awake all night, with their hooting and hollering and banging-of-their-mom, something that was getting less and less unusual. It had to have been the third night this week, if their math is right, and its literally only Wednesday. They were already fucking exhausted- add the sound of Mr. G droning away in the background and you have a pretty potent sedative, apparently. They’d feel bad if they could feel anything other than tired; they actually liked Mr. G a fair bit, even found him to be a kind of comforting presence- a fact which almost definitely isn’t helping them stay on this side of consciousness.

“Heads up Callahan.” Fingers wrapping around their wrist are the only other warning they get before their arm is unceremoniously yanked out from under them. Their head connects with the desk with a dull thud, sharp pain blooming in their cheek where vinyl meets a two-week old bruise, probably giving it a new lease on life. The plastic thwack wakes them well enough, scrambling to right themselves and turning to look at the culprit, levelling her with a wounded expression.

“What the fuck, PJ?” Their words come out quiet but pointed, hissed at her in an attempt to not further disturb the class, especially after their face had already done so.

“What? You were like, drifting off or whatever,” There’s a saccharine smile on PJ’s face, hamming up an artist’s impression of something that almost looks like concern or helpfulness, fighting off a grin as she shrugs. “Didn’t want you to miss anything important.”

Her explanation could almost pass for convincing if it wasn’t for how obviously uninterested in the lesson she was, turning back to her handout in order to return to her task: diligently dotting every ‘o’ on the page in order to make boobs. PJ could give less of a fuck about whatever Mr. G was saying, she simply enjoyed toying with them whenever she could, as she always had- that much Hazel understood perfectly.

“Anyway,” she draws out the word as her fingers drum on the desk, seemingly too captivated by her efforts to titty up the page to bother looking at Hazel. “Janitor’s next period?”

That, they understood less. It’s still a relatively new development to their dynamic, one that had left them more than a little confused since the night of the game. Within the space of thirty minutes, they’d made their way all over the map emotions-wise when it came to PJ: annoyance and apathy turning into forgiveness, and forgiveness turning into surprise as PJ pulled them into whatever the fuck that kiss was.

It’s not like they were opposed to it or anything, honestly it was kind of the opposite; it just wasn’t what they had expected from PJ, not by a long shot. For years they’d taken shit from her, they’d accepted that that was their place in the pecking order of whatever small gaggle of dykes they’d managed to muster in their fuck-ass town. And honestly, they were content to stay right there, so long as it meant that they weren’t an outlier. Taking shit from PJ was just another part of their every day, as reliable and consistent as how the sun rises or birds tweet, or any number of other metaphors that fit the bill. Her teasing and borderline negging was something they had their head wrapped around pretty well, but this? The way she’d rip into them in public, only to jump their bones the moment the two of them had any privacy? That, Hazel still needs to do some adjusting to, apparently.

Everything comes back into focus with the sound of a metallic thunk, the thudding of a shoe against their chair leg bringing them back from whatever miniature spiral they’d managed to fall into. The look on PJ’s face is difficult to place as she stares at Hazel, her brow pinched in a puzzled expression as she looks at them expectantly.

“What?” The confusion is evident in Hazel’s voice as they ask, almost losing track of the initial question in their attempts to unpick the bizarre dynamic the two of them seem to have fallen into recently.

“Fucking hell- got your brains knocked out your ears or some shit?” The concerned crease of PJ’s brow is closer to a scowl than anything else now, rolling her eyes at them before speaking slowly and deliberately, sounding out each word. “You- me- closet, yeah?”

Their mouth feels very dry suddenly, the mental picture from her suggestion and memory of the small noise that leaves her when their fingers thread through her hair flooring them, the combination of factors teaming up to effectively sap all the moisture from their mouth. A small nod is all they can offer in return to her question, floundering internally for any other reasonable response.

“Great, yeah- Fucking A.” She huffs out a sigh that Hazel takes as exasperation as she speaks, returning her gaze to the mostly ignored handout in front of her before continuing quietly. “See you then, I guess.”

With that, Hazel is left to their own devices for the rest of the short lesson as PJ finally seems to make an attempt at working through the sheets in front of her, the lack of conversation leaving their mind the freedom to turn the concept over in their head. Whatever PJ actually feels towards them is a mystery, for sure- but they could be content with this, right? ———-

The next period finds them making their way towards the now-mostly-defunct library, the lack of books in the place translating into an equally low amount of foot traffic through the corridor it inhabits. They walk the length of the hallway quickly, their fingers picking at the stitching of the bag slung over their shoulder in nervous preoccupation as they scan the walls for the right door, slowing to a stop as they find themselves outside.

They knock on the door lightly, hardly managing two taps before they have to step back to avoid the door swinging open, a hand darting out to grab them by the front of their shirt and yanking them roughly into the dingy, cramped space. The darkness in the cupboard throws them for a second, blinking rapidly in an attempt to let their eyes adjust to the low lighting as they open their mouth to greet PJ.

“Hey-“

The sentence dies before they have any chance to actually speak, cut off effectively by the insistent press of PJ’s lips against theirs, slightly less clumsy than the first time as she mumbles a muffled ‘shut the fuck up’ against their lips. Hazel responds in kind, letting the rucksack drop off their shoulder as they kiss her back, the bag making a solid thud against the floor as they bring their hands up to tangle in the taller girl’s hair. The action elicits a soft gasp from PJ that makes their cheeks flush red, the sound not so different from the first time they’d heard it, or every time since. They drink the noise in eagerly, even if the way she kisses them softens it somewhat.

Hazel could get lost in this, honestly. They’d thought that every time, almost worried that the press of her fingers against their back might undo them, the touch insistent even through the layers of fabric. They move with PJ as she pulls them with her, letting the girl guide them so that she’s leant against the wall of the closet. They’ve never had any problem with letting PJ take the reigns in their little trysts, more than happy to follow her lead and apparently incapable of denying her of what she wants.

Time moves strangely slowly as she pulls them against her, thick like molasses while she seems determined to meld the two of them together. Hazel groans quietly at the feeling, the contact making their head swim as they pull away to catch their breath for a second. The absence seems to irk the girl, an impatient noise leaving her as she seems almost affronted by the lack of contact, the sound leading to Hazel having to stifle a laugh.

“Shut the fuck up,” PJ whines the words, her head thudding against the wall as she tilts it back in frustration. She looks back at them, huffing impatiently before asking “Don’t you like, have a job to do or something?”

The annoyed tone in her voice makes them feel almost smug, relishing the heady feeling of how obviously frustrated she sounds. They’d take this form of annoyance over her usual any day, preferring it greatly to the general disdain that PJ seems to hold towards them in most contexts. Even so, they find it almost fun to irritate her in this context, cocking their head in feigned ignorance as they speak.

“Not sure- what should I be doing?” They find it hard not to grin as they speak, the corners of their lips twitching with the barely suppressed motion.

The question draws another long-suffering groan of annoyance from PJ, clearly fed up with their shit as she grabs the hand sat on her waist and guides it to the front of her pants. Whatever cockiness that seemed to have possessed Hazel all but leaves them in the moment, their ears almost ringing as she looks at them expectantly.

“Well?”

Words seem to evade them in the moment, instead moving quietly to undo the button there before grabbing the suspenders that hold up her corduroys, the motion bringing a confused look to the girl’s face.

“They get in the way a bit,” The explanation comes out almost distractedly, pulling the elastic slightly as if to illustrate their point. “Like, if you want your pants off, I mean.”

The look she gives them in response makes them almost sheepish, staring at them as if they’d grown an extra head as they wait for her to speak, or move, or do anything at this point.

“Why the fuck would you take them off?” She sounds somewhere between confused and exasperated as she speaks, promptly using her hands to mime exactly what she’d had in mind, the correction making Hazel’s face flush from a mix of interest and embarrassment.

“Oh- yeah, that makes more sense, actually.” They nod as they speak, eager to move on from their blunder as they lean back into her space, pressing a kiss to the skin of her neck in an attempt to gloss over the past thirty-or-so seconds.

Her hands come back up to rest against their back, her fingers bunching in the fabric of their shirt as they kiss her, moving their hands back to where she’d initially placed them. The soft noises that leave her make them think they might’ve gotten away with it, that illusion being thoroughly broken by the sound of her chuckling slightly.

“The fuck were you thinking, anyway?” The grin on her face is almost audible as she speaks. “Gonna go all bush-diver on me or something?”

“I mean- sure, if you’d want me to- I think we’ve got time.” Their shoulders shrug as they speak, somewhere between attempted nonchalance and genuine confidence in the statement.

Their response prompts a surprised expression to pass over PJ’s face, eyebrows raised as she seems to visibly turn the words over in her head. The lack of response makes Hazel sweat nervously, their brain moving a mile a minute as they run through the exchange in their head, doing their best to ascertain where exactly they’d managed to fuck up.

“Shit, Haze- I mean, fuck, why not.” She seems to almost be at a loss for words, her response stilted as she struggles to form a sentence.

It’s almost bizarre to Hazel, the lack of any smart comeback throwing them off almost as much as the unexpected nickname. They can’t think of any other time they’d heard her call them that, but they feel pretty certain in the moment that there’s not much they won’t do to hear it again.

A grin lights up their features at her response, their hands coming back up to rest against her waist, thumbs rubbing small circles over the fabric as they double check.

“You sure? ‘Cause it’s okay if not- I’m good with whatever.” The words stumble over each other as they speak, nerves and eagerness mingling and thoroughly fucking their grasp on the English language.

“No- get your filthy mitts off me you little freak.” The genuinely surprised and horrified expression on Hazel’s face gives her pause, sighing as she seems to remember how aggressively earnest they tend to be. “Jesus fucking Christ- I’m just fucking with you, you’re all good, I swear. Go for it.”

“Right- fuck, okay. Wasn’t sure for a sec there-” Their shoulders sag in relief, whatever concerns they’d had easing as they catch on to PJ’s piss-poor attempt at a joke. Any further speech is killed in its cradle as she pulls them back in for another kiss, effectively shutting them both up before either of them can dig themselves into a deeper hole.

Their lips part at the pass of PJ’s tongue, opening in order to deepen the kiss as her fingers creep under the hem of their shirt, the brush of her nails against the skin of their waist making them shiver. The kiss continues in the cramped environment of the broom closet, with Hazel silently thankful that PJ seems to have learnt not to use as much tongue; even if she does seem hell-bent of mapping the inside of their mouth in great detail, it’s nowhere near the full-frontal assault she’d launched on their face during their first kiss.

The kiss breaks as they move to trail their lips towards her neck, their fingers coming up to tangle in her hair as their lips trace her jawline, pulling the strands out of the way in order to clear their path. Their lips connect with her neck, tongue and teeth moving against the smooth skin as they fight the urge to bite, the idea of leaving a mark unbelievably tempting. As much as they know she’d rip their head off for it, the mental image is rather appealing in the moment, the idea of having to deal with PJ’s usual heckling far more palatable with the visual reminder of the way she sounds under their touch.

Any further ruminations are cut short by the buzzing of a phone, the insistent thrumming making PJ groan in annoyance as they reach for their pocket, motioning for Hazel to stop while they pull it out.

“Fuck- Josie.” She holds up the screen to Hazel as she speaks, turning it to answer the call. “What’s up? This better be good-“

She cuts herself off suddenly, her eyebrows rising quickly in response to whatever Josie has to say, her words too quiet for them to be able to make any out from where they stand in front of PJ.

“What- How the fuck? Right- Yeah, I’ll be there.” She speaks quickly, rushing to hang up the phone with a bemused look on her face, the expression prompting their own eyebrow to quirk in confusion.

“What’d Josie want?”

“Sylvie got her head stuck in Tucker’s cage?” She nods in response to the shocked look on Hazel’s face, their eyebrows lost somewhere behind their fringe as the statement visibly floors them. “Yeah- I’m not sure how either, honestly.”

They let out a long breath, sighing through their nose as they try to process the information, snapping out of their reverie at the sound of PJ’s irritated sigh as she moves push off of the wall she’d been leant against.

“Rain check?”

“Sure- of course,” They nod quickly at her question, moving in order to give her space as she rebuttons her pants and does what she can to make herself presentable. “I’ve got a free house later, if you wanna come by, maybe?”

“Yeah- why not, I should be free.” She shrugs as she speaks, shouldering her bag as she moves to grab the closet door, pushing past Hazel in the enclosed space as she rushes to leave and shouting over her shoulder. “See you later, bush ranger.”

She’s out of the door before they have a chance to reply, leaving them in the dark to ponder her strange PJ-specific brand of nicknaming as they bend over to grab their rucksack. Nearly everything about the past hour had effectively thrown them for a loop, something that’s starting to seem like a reoccurring theme in their encounters if their previous ones are anything to go by.

They leave the closet quietly, doing their best to ignore the weird feeling that PJ’s sudden departure had left in the pit of their stomach as they move through the corridors, deciding to spend the rest of their free period on the bleachers. Whatever fuck had just happened, or nearly happened, Hazel wasn’t exactly sure of- it’s near impossible to tell where exactly they stand with her these days.

#bottoms 2023 #pjhazel #pj x hazel #hazel callahan #hazel bottoms #pj bottoms #ruby cruz #rachel sennott

[lemon-boy-stan]

Could you do a Steve Harrington request set during second half of his and the Henderson!reader’s senior year (aka after season 2) where he finds out she likes him when he asks to borrow her notes for a class without her realizing inside are notes between her and her best friend about her crush on him?

hiii anon! tysm for requesting this, it was so adorable i loved it so much! hope you like it 😌

“LOVE LETTERS”

summary: steve asks to borrow your notes for the lesson. you give them to him, forgetting about the messages you and your best friend jamie wrote about your feelings for a certain someone. genre: fluff, bit of angst if you squint. warnings: swearing? pairing: steve harrington x reader (sorry, i didn’t see the henderson part!) an: this request was so cute i loved it so much!

Ms. Stacy entered the class ten minutes after the morning bell had rung, and addressed the class as soon as she sat down at the teacher's desk, "please take out your notebooks and ensure that you have the notes written from yesterday's class."

There was shuffling as the class took their notebooks, and Ms. Stacy took out the text you were studying for English. Next to you, your best friend grinned, nodding her head over to the left side of the table. "Guess who still hasn't read the chapters." and you rolled your eyes as Rebecca Hill shuffled through her papers nervously.

There was a tap on your shoulder, and you jumped before turning around. You tried not to blush as Steve smiled at you sheepishly. "Hey, Y/N? Is it okay if I borrowed your notes? Just to copy them down. I just haven't had enough time because of basketball." and you rolled your eyes again, "right. Because of basketball. Seriously, Steve. It's senior year!"

Steve grinned, "yeah, and senior year's for having fun. And I know you had fun at the party last night. The whole group did. So... could you please just give them to me? Pretty please." he pouted his bottom lip and you sighed, taking your notebook, "fine, but only because it was a good party. But that basketball shit is BS, Harrington." Steve grinned again, "thank you," pushing back his hair. Your heart fluttered.

Jamie spoke from the corner of her mouth, "geez, Y/N. Drool much?" and you kicked her roughly in the shin, "shut the fuck up. He's stupid, not deaf." and you turned around hastily to see if Steve showed any recognition of hearing your conversation, but he was too busy scribbling down the notes.

Steve loved your notes. He didn't pay much attention in class himself, but he always remembered things because he liked your handwriting, it was cute, just like you, no matter how much you tried to convince him you were scary. It actually made you even more cute than you already were.

Steve turned to the next page to see if there were any other notes he needed to copy before stopping. At first, Steve thought they were just scribbles, but then he realised they were messages passed between friends, between Y/N and Jamie.

And Steve was about to close the notebook and give it back to Y/N, but then he saw his name written in the deep blue ink.

Steve's breath hitched in his throat. First he checked to see that no one was looking. Y/N was busy writing today's notes in another notebook, and Jamie was doodling in her diary. Good.

Heart thudding like a drum, Steve opened it so he could see the other messages.

He recognised your handwriting immediately, next to Jamie's.

stop drooling!

I can't help it!

Steve knew he shouldn't be reading them, they were obviously private between Y/N and her best friend, but he couldn't help it. His curiosity took over, it was one of his many strengths and liabilities.

don't you think Steve's hair is kind of sexy?

No, I'm more of a Billy girl myself

yeah, but you don't even know billy, and he's a total dick! have you seen the way he treats his little sister?

yeah, but he's so charismatic and sexy

Steve's sexy too!

girl, what are you on? he's one of your best friends!

yeah but like. he's so tall. and he's so cute. plus he's always so sweet.

only because you're friends! seriously Y/N, stop drooling and DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT

no

do it or ill tell him myself!

no!

do it.

And that was where you'd stopped passing notes. Steve closed the notebook, wishing he'd never read it, his heart beating unnaturally fast. He tapped your shoulder again and you turned back around. Steve smiled, "thank you." handing over the notebook, but making sure to trace his fingers along and under your wrist before taking his hand away. Your breath hitched and he had to look away to hide his smirk.

The rest of the lesson surprisingly flew by. Steve was too busy thinking about you to count down the seconds until break, and when break came, he waited for you and Jamie to get your things before meeting with the rest of your friends.

Steve was restless the whole time through break, and halfway through, he tapped your arm. You turned to him, "yeah, what's up?" god, he loved your smile. No, stay focused. Steve smiled too, "can you come with me to go get something from my locker?" you smiled again, nodding. "Yeah, sure!"

Jamie grinned, but you kicked her roughly in the shin. You and Steve always escorted each other places. It didn't mean anything.

Steve opened his locker before sighing, "ah, shit. I just realised I already have the notebook I need for next class. Sorry, Y/N. We can go back. I swear I left my brain at home."

You giggled softly before shrugging, "it's okay. We can just go back, come on -" slinging your bag over your shoulder, you began walking back towards the hallway, but Steve grabbed your arm. "Y/N, wait."

You turned back around, "yeah? What is it?" Steve pushed his hair back, "uhhh, nothing. Do you think I should cut my hair?" and you blinked, "what?" not expecting him to say that. Steve spoke slowly this time, "do you think I should cut my hair?" and you shook your head, "no, I got what you said. I just... um, no?"

Steve grinned, "yeah? Why not?" and you hoped he couldn't see your blush, "I don't know. I guess... it just looks good like that, you know. I don't know, Steve! It's your hair!" You didn't know why you were stuttering, and you didn't know why Steve was smirking, either. "Is it because you think it's sexy?"

And you coughed, "what?" Steve was still smirking, "is it my hair that makes me sexy, Y/N? Or is it because I'm tall?" you blinked again before freezing in your place. There was only one way he could have heard that... read it.

"How did you..." Steve cocked his head, "is it because I'm sweet?" moving closer. You backed away, face flushing red. "You shouldn't have read that!" Steve put his hand on his hip, "you shouldn't have written it right next to the notes I was copying, sweetheart."

Your heart was beating insanely fast as Steve moved even closer, reaching out with his hand. You flinched away, but instantly regretted it once you saw the injured look on his face, even though he was the one who asked, "what's wrong?" and you sighed, "I just. I like you, Steve. Like, a lot. And I just. That was really embarrassing, especially because I know you don't like me back, just as a friend you casually like to make fun of, so let's just go back to the table, okay? We can forget it never happened just let's go back -"

You interrupted yourself with a soft squeak. Steve's hand manoeuvred around your neck, and he pulled you so close that there was barely a breathing distance between the two of you.

And Steve closed the gap; pulling you even closer, pressing his lips, his soft, warm lips roughly on yours with such a gentle force that you never wanted him to stop. He groaned softly into it, fingers tangled in the strands of the hair that fell behind your neck. It was like time stopped, like time had stopped for the kiss because it didn't want the kiss to stop.

But he had to stop sometime, and when he did, he stopped properly, although he looked like he didn't want to stop at all. Steve smiled softly, kissing you again. "Who said I didn't like you back?"

>> stranger things masterlist << requests are open but might be a bit held up!

>> navigation <<

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x fem!reader #fanfic #stranger things #joe keery

[voldrinofthenorth]

@vexwerewolf So we played In Golden Flame tonight and TRAINS! TRAINSTRAINSTRAINSTRAINS! There goes a train! I fucking love trains. And our GM made a cool animated map on Foundry that made it look like the train was going really fast and it was really cool.

Ahem. Anyway, the cultists highjacked the city's boosters just like we said they would but our boss said wouldn't happen. They're probably gonna try and use their super space-time lazer to blow up a moon or something for some reason (I'm sure it's fine), so we're taking the train to try and put a stop to it. Enemies boarded to try and stop us and why the fuck were there two elites in a group of 8? Well, at least we learned our lesson this time and didn't split the party. We brought a Sagarmatha, who did it's job of choaking the point. And, miraculously, that enemy Breacher actually hit most of it's attacks. Even though several of us had soft cover. Utterly baffling. Something about this campaign is cursed. I've been stunned almost every combat, the Chomolungma has been blown up, like, four times and now a Breacher fails to miss. Whatever, I got revenge and blew his ass up with my clearly superior Decksweeper shotgun. Who needs two barrels when you have a drum? Idiot. We threw the other guys out the window and they got run over by another train like it was fucking Loony Toons. Easy combat. A baby game for babies. Ignore the fact that those enemy hackers lit our asses on fire. Everything is fine. In fact, none of us blew up this time! We all passed our meltdown checks and everything is fine! Everything is fine.

Those cultists don't stand a chance. Once we finally reach LL2, it's jover for them.

#lancer rpg #lancer #mecha #in golden flame #lancerrpg #in golden flame spoilers #I've been in this Everest for months I just want my cool Viceroy now plz

[tickled-2-death]

I saw your post about tma tickle requests and I have literally never thought about lonelyeyes tickles, but now I need to see Elias brought down a peg or six by his ex-ex-ex husband(soon to add another ex) who's probably at least semi-transparent and covered in fog. Bonus points for all the sass!

Attitude Adjustment

Content warnings: unhealthy relationship, dubious consent(?), tickle torture, begging, feet content specifically, not necessarily sexual but sexual acts are mentioned.

This is a tickle fic.

“Peter, I have told you this several times before, and I will only repeat myself this once. I am not going anywhere near that pathetic boat.”

Elias just can’t seem to catch a fucking break today. First it was some shipment issue at the Archives, namely involving those two identical circus freaks with some mysterious box. Then, once they finally convinced him to sign off on it (he’ll just replace whoever dies in artifact storage, no big deal), there was some petty little catfight in the archives itself. One that he, despite all the paperwork that needed to be sorted, had to go downstairs and tell Jonathan off about. That’s not to mention that his coffee was cold by the time he got back, and-

“Darling, my love, my light. You’re thinking too hard.”

… and his husband, one Mr. Peter “just fuck off out to sea and forget it all” Lukas, simply will not shut up.

Elias pinches the bridge of his nose, propped up in their lavish bed in his silk pajamas, by all means in a position to relax that he intends not to spoil.

“I can’t stand the smell”, he begins to explain, “I cant stand the Lonely, and honestly the thought of being trapped on a giant metal hunk of rubbish with you for several months on end makes me want to disappear already.”

Peter, despite his patron and what you’d expect as a result of it, nearly never stops smiling. It’s a smug little shit sort of smile, mind you, but it hardly ever leaves his face. As of now, it droops into a frown.

“Elias, if we’re going to beat our record of staying married for four months-“

“Five months. Five months is the record.”

The captain sighs.

“If we’re going to make this work for more than five months, we’ve got to accept one another’s help! I’m just trying to think of a way to cheer you up, to get some of that tension out of you, in the only way I know how!”

Elias considers this, and ultimately decides that his husband is right. He’s a snarky bastard, even worse than Elias himself at times, but he’s trying to do the right thing. It’s the thought that counts? Right???

It doesn’t really matter. 200 years and counting, and he’s never been interested in admitting his own faults. Why start now? Especially for Peter goddamn Lukas.

So the shrewish little Beholder pulls out his bitchiest of bitch voices, and simply replies; “Well, you’d hardly like it if I recommended you to take someone’s statement, or delve into someone’s personal life for an ounce of fear, now would you?”, before rolling over and turning off his bedside lamp.

Something within Peter snaps just then. Not genuine anger, or at least not the violent sort. No, it’s simply the sudden and undeniable urge to teach someone a lesson. Elias’ eyes go wide, having Known what was about to happen, but it’s too late.

Peter roughly digs his fingers into his husband’s ribs, and vibrates them between the bones with all his might.

“OH FUCK-“ is all the poor, helpless man can manage before descending into mad cackles against his will. His dignity would never allow such a boisterous display of emotion, but there’s hardly a chance to suppress it in this position.

Instinctively, he rolls onto his stomach to escape the horrific sensation at his side. However, this proves to be the worst thing he could’ve possibly done, because Peter takes the opportunity to straddle his ass and get both sides at once.

“PEHEHETER! YOU- STOHAHAP THIS AT OHAHANCE! NOW!” Elias demands through several squeals, drumming his bare feet against the mattress behind them. Hands desperately grabbing for purchase or perhaps Peter’s dastardly wrists.

He doesn’t let up, of course, and that smile is back with a vengeance.

“Hmm- what was that kinky sex term you told me about? Where you punish someone for talking back?” Peter asks, tone jovial and unclear as to whether the question is genuine or rhetorical.

Elias, in turn, accidentally projects the answer into his mind. Mouth otherwise occupied with screams of ticklish agony.

“Brat taming, that’s right! Are you going to stop being a brat, Elias? Or is your significantly larger, stronger husband going to have to tickle you until you cry? We both know I’m well trained in regards to tying knots, so you’d better keep that in mind.”

Deciding to give the ribs a bit of a break, lest he accidentally bruise them, Peter jams his fingers into Elias’ sensitive underarms. It’s absolutely delightful, the way he screams even louder and clamps his arms to his sides. As if that will help, now that the offending digits are trapped exactly where they shouldn’t be.

“NOW! YOUHOHOHOL STOP RIHIGHT NOW! I DEHEHEE- DEMAHAHAND IT!!!” Elias tries to compel, but the concentration required to do so simply isn’t there.

Peter continues to burrow his fingertips into Elias’ armpits, wiggling and scritching across the ultra sensitive skin like worms trying to dig into the earth. He flails as much as humanly possible, twisting and snorting up a storm all the while, but Peter’s legs hold firm to his hips. He’s stuck, and completely at the other avatar’s mercy.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to keep on like this, love. That is, until you apologize, and whatever comes out of your mouth even now can and will be held against you. So let’s fix that attitude, yeah?”

Elias’ laugh goes silent, eyes screwed shut rendering his powers completely useless. Not that they weren’t already, but now he can’t even read Peter’s thoughts.

Mercifully, the tickling comes to a stop after about five straight minutes of torture. Elias takes the opportunity to breath, and to pout, while Peter continues to ramble on.

“Not going to say anything, then? That’s alright, I’ve got another place in mind. Remember that one time you asked for a foot massage, and every time I pressed too light you’d kick and tell me to do better? Well, if you can’t handle a massage I’d hate to see how you’ll handle ten fingers intentionally tickling you.”

Elias uses what little of his strength he’s got left to buck his hips. Nothing happens, so he begins to thrash any way he can, kicking and babbling out a mantra of “nononono”-

But Peter is quick, and built tough like the boat that stared this whole argument. It takes about two seconds for him to turn around, placing all his weight on the trapped ankles of his smart-mouthed partner. He cracks his knuckles, gives a quick wink in Elias’ direction, and scribbles his fingers up two shaking soles.

Elias cries out, pounding his fists against the mattress. “NNOOHOHO! PETERPETERPETER- GEHEET OOHOFF- I CAHANT!”

“Are you pleading with me?” He responds, otherwise uncaring and unwavering in his assault. He wiggles his nails against the soles of one foot, and digs in between the toes of the other.

Even now, there is the slightest hesitation. But when he adjusts his position so that he can rub his beard against Elias’ trapped feet, all remaining pride goes out the window and into the endless Vast.

“PLEHEHASEPLEASEPLEASE- SOHAHA- SORRY! DAHARLINGPLEASE-“

“Trying to appeal to my humanity, darling? I should be offended you’d use such language just to get away from me and my glorious facial hair”.

Tears stream down Elias’ face. The scruffy hairs rubbing against his soles is just too much to handle. So he does the unthinkable and gives up.

“PEHEHEETEERRRR-“ is all he can manage, all he can think in the midst of this hell, and somehow it’s enough for him to get the message.

“Alright, alright. Calm down, love, let me help.” Peter soothes, giggling at the little twitches he evokes by firmly rubbing Elias’ feet of residual tingles.

Elias, on the other hand, is utterly spent. He feels heavy as a sack of bricks, completely limp and hiccuping like a maniac. Once his awful, evil husband has decided that his feet can be left alone, he starts to rub his back.

“Poor, mean little thing you are. So sensitive for such a powerful man.” Peter coos, and despite himself Elias falls asleep to the sound of his voice and comforting feel of his hands.

#tma tickles #tma tickle fic #ticklish Elias bouchard #ler Peter lukas #lee Elias bouchard #Elias bouchard tickles #Peter lukas tickles

[amitheproblemz]

— AESTHETIC;; lost cause in their parents eyes but not their own, make-up always on point & dramatic, always tapping fingers mindlessly in beat even when not listening to music, unwavering faith, loses themselves in a good album, searching eyes under sunglasses, thin silver chain with diamond pendant around neck, faint callouses from years of playing, here for a good time not a long time mentality, adrenaline junkie, wild card, delicate exterior but feisty on the inside, like tinkerbell and needs attention to survive, sarcasm as their defense mechanism.

wanted connections here

— BASICS;;

NAME : alexis kim

ALIAS ( NICKNAMES ) : alex, ale

AGE : 23 / april 10

OCCUPATION : musician - singer & rhythm guitarist for neon nostalgia

GENDER IDENTITY : demi female (she/they pronouns)

SEXUAL ORIENTATION : pansexual, pan romantic

EXTRA : filling jonathan yoon’s bandmate wc as singer/guitarist

POSITIVE TRAITS : determined, comedic, out-going, creative

NEGATIVE TRAITS : sarcastic, reckless, stubborn, impulsive

SONG : i'm ready by chung ha

— A LOOK DEEPER;; 

Kim Alexis, born in New York and only child. Their parents stars in the medical field and it was thought that Ale would follow in the same paths. At six years old, accompanied their parents to a music performance and fell in love with music. begged their parents that if they did well in school, they wanted to take music lessons. they said yes and next thing you know, they was taking violin classes.

it was in these classes, her instructor saw how quickly se learned the instruments and Alexis asked to learn another. it was discovered she was a musical prodigy, picking up instruments quickly (her faves to play: violin, piano, drums, guitar, and trumpet). her instructor asked her parents to enter her in competitions. they said yes as it would look good in college applications. doing that for years until high school

As a senior in highschool, their parents pushed them to apply to ivy leagues and major in medicine or math but Ale had other plans. They chose a university where they could major in music. Their parents gave them an ultimatum: follow their plans and get everything paid for by them or do what they wants but with no financial support. They grabbed their stuff, said fuck you loved them, and left, doing what they wanted to do.

Fast forward to now: went to university (being the favorite of their grandparents who paid for their education, bought them a luxury apartment in the city, and gives them a weekly allowance), got a BA in music production, and is living their life on the social scene. Alexis is in a band as their singer, playing rhythm guitar, and loves it. Enjoys producing songs for their bands and others, writing lyrics, and partying.

TDLR ;;

Personality wise, is too smart for their own good and knows it. was known at high school for being the party girl who loves music too much for their own good. music prodigy with being able to play five instruments. never go to karaoke with her because she can actually sing. is an actual nerd, like I can't stress it enough, especially when it comes to math. she thrives on it and numbers are their thing, could have majored in math like her parents wanted them to but said no.

never dare or do a bet with Alexis because you will lose. loves to prove others wrong about them, hence why she is currently learning Latin because someone said they couldn't. loves to fight back others for the fuck of it because eh why not, its her motto. has them parental issues so whoops and always causes a commotion when obligated to go to family functions. is really the poster child of ‘looks like a cinnamon roll but could kill you if provoked.

Ships wise, when it comes to friends is there for them. loyal to a fault for them and yes, will be honest with them about things. they will give advice and if they don’t take it, is like 'oh well' and then if something happens, would probably tell you 'I told you so' afterwards but still help them out. hates to admit it but she is the mom in the friend group.

as for relationships, she may not look it but is an actual romantic. like gives you flowers or chocolates, maybe even plays you music on their guitar or writes you songs, she’s that girl. but also because she is so out-going most likely has slept around town. do not blame them if they starts flirting, can’t help herself.

#wealth.intro

[annahxredaxted]

High school AU

I am on a roll! Another au for the little munchkins that actually enjoy my writing for some god forsaken reason

Genre: all of them

Characters: David/angel Sam/darlin milo/sweetheart Asher/Baabe

Tw: cussing.

(Note: for the sake of this fic Sam is aged down to the rest of the pack and, no one is empowered.)

(1/?)

———

Ahh yes, dahlia high. The place of depression, bad grades and body Oder; for most people anyway. But not for the unstoppable group of eight friends who think their the main characters because they bought matcha once. Anyways,

Sweetheart and angel strolled through the corridors carrying their Algebra books and notebooks talking about the most recent home game and who won and who lost because their school always dominated no matter how trash everything else was.

“Yeah I can’t believe the quarterback got that.” Angel exclaimed smiling

“Yeah I was pleasantly surprised.” Sweetheart said back, adjusting their backpack to rest on both of their shoulders.

Angel nodded. Just then the school badass Clown busted through the door

“What up guys!” Asher exclaimed putting his arms around the two friends

“Hey Asher.” Angel said smiling

“Hi.” Sweetheart said as well. Asher then started pouting.

“Oh yeah you guys are in the smart people class.” He said.

They rolled their eyes

“Asher I know you don’t want to but your going to class with us. Your smart dude act like it, you just have to apply yourself and stop slacking off.” Sweetheart scolded nudging him in the side.

“Ughhhh applying yourself is so boring!” He exclaimed fake crying and groaning making sweetheart bitterly hold him in their arms

“I guess that means getting into a good college is also boring.” Sweetheart said shoving him off them, wiping themselves off as if they have dust on them.

“Germs.” They mumbled.

The friends walked into Mr. Daniels Algebra class nonchalantly Asher groaning his head off

“Good morning Asher.” He said raising an eyebrow

He immediately straightened up. Mr Daniel also happened to be the hockey coach so he was on his best behavior.

“Hah suck up.” Angel muttered, Asher flipped his head to glare dagger at them and then sat down at his designated desk.

Minutes after the bell rang milo waltzed in with a proud gait as if he was 20 minutes early

He took his seat next to sweetheart. The pair of “friends” weren’t dating quite yet but everyone could tell it was bound to happen. Everyone but them anyway.

“Thank you for joining us Mr. Greer. I presume you have a reason for not getting here on time?” Mr. Daniel asked raising an eyebrow

“Uh… no sir I don’t.” He said sighing. Daniels nodded and wrote a little something down and handed it to him

“Detention after school. Again.” He concluded, walking over to the white board to start writing;

as he went on to the lesson, milo was brainstorming any excuse he could tell his dad why he had detention again, colm would be outraged when he heard this. He might even make him quit lacrosse. Milo sighed once more and shoved the slip into his pocket

“Hey,” sweetheart leaned over and whispered to milo.

He leaned over raising his eyebrow.

“You okay?” They asked, sincerely.

“Yeah I’m good. My dads just gonna be pissed.” He said fumbling with his hands. A gesture that sweetheart absolutely noticed. They were observant and wise, with empathy. He was stressed.

‘Obviously. Great job wanna cookie?’ They mused.

“Oh. Lemme know if I can do anything to help.” They said before leaning back over and taking notes.

Milo nodded, feeling something pulling at his heartstrings.

If anything milo was an overthinker. He thought of everything, every merely possible scenario, every idea, every excuse, every thing. But he couldn’t pin point how one specific person could make his hands sweaty and heart pound like a drum in his chest. Maybe he was sick. Maybe he was in love..

—————

“Ughhhhhhhhh that class is so fucking boring.” Angel said enunciating O in boring.

David pulled his eyes and smiled lightly.

“It’s not that bad.” He said, even though he was two classes ahead of them.

“What-Ever!” They exclaimed flaring the dramatics like always.

Milo trudged alongside them, slight frown overtaking his face as the group of friends walked to join their friends in the cafeteria.

“Milo.” David boomed, he jolted up and looked him dead in the eye.

“W-whasup?” He asked confused at the sudden loudness.

“Are you okay?” He said gentler- much gentler.

Milo looked down once more. Sighing he shook his head, on the verge of actual tears.

“My dads gonna be so mad that I got detention again. I mean it’s not even my fault there was traffic but the school won’t take that excuse for some dumb fucked up reason.” He said in a single breath

“Oh.” Angel muttered, feeling sorry for their friend.

“Milo, if you need anything, anything at all your always welcome at my place we can drive to school together-“ angel cut him off

“Or you could ask sweetheart. Their a teachers kid so they have to be here early anyway. Plus their always down to carpool,” they dropped their voice “, and their cars really nice.” They smirked at the thought of riding in the car their friend bought with the money they’d been saving for a while. It was a nice car and angel treated it like a child.

Milo’s eyes widened.

“Wh-why’d you- where’d you ge-get that idea?” He asked worriedly that maybe he was easy to read.

“Idea?” They asked puzzled.

“Nothing.” He mumbled “,yeah I’ll ask them.” He finished. If he wasn’t easy to read before he most certainly is now.

——

Baabe walked into the loud cafeteria, searching for their friends, when they saw David’s tall head poking out from the crowd they walked in that direction.

“Hey guys.” They said with a soft smile.

“Hey baabe!” Asher said hugging them.

They tapped his shoulder twice as an initial sign for him to let go.

“A-ash c-can-t bre-th.” They said, before he let them go and scratched the back of his neck.

“Sorry baabe.” He said smiling awkwardly

“Ew oh my god this looks disgusting.” Sweetheart fake gagged looking at the school lunch. The kids nodded in agreement

“Cant wait for next year when we can leave campus for lunch.” David said pushing his tray to the middle of the table.

“Same.” Asher and angel said simultaneously grinning ear to ear.

David rolled his eyes “weirdos.” He mumbled at his partner and best friend in sync always.

“Do you guys just take turns with the same brain cell or something.” Sweetheart teased nonchalantly.

“Hey! That’s not nice!” Asher said

“Yeah be nice you jerk!” Angel added

The rest of the group chuckled; aside from Asher and angel.

——-

“English class. The best class. The best teacher. And it smells good.” Baabe said to David, who nodded in agreement.

“I agree, it’s also the easiest class.” He added pointing a finger to the door.

The bell rang and the class settled down and stopped talking.

“Hello class, glad to see everyone present today! I have a special announcement. We have a new student going us today. I trust in good conscience that you’ll make them feel welcome,” she said before clearing her throat

“Tanker? You can come in now.” She finished.

A kid walked in, wearing green cargo pants and Metallica tee, a tan zip up jacket, with piercings all over their face, ears, nose, and eyebrow. They had a severe case of RBF but aside from that they were the perfect person.

The kid in the back; who quite literally never talked, Sam is his name, rose his head in awe at the hot gorgeous person he saw with his own two eyes.

They nodded.

“You can take a seat next to baabe right there.” She pointed to an empty desk next to baabe.

“Kay.” They said with a huff of breath.

Everyone watched them as they walked over to the desk and then turned their attention back to the board.

Tanker slumped themselves in their desk, doodling in a little green notebook, not really paying much attention to the class.

‘This is going to be a long year..’

Sam thought.

—

Taglist:

@itsdaifuku @youisagayhooman @shellssstuff @verrverii @darlin-collins

#redacted asmr #redacted david #redacted milo #redacted angel #redacted sweetheart #redacted asher #redacted sam #redacted darlin #redacted tank #redacted babe #all listeners have they/them pronouns #redacted audio #redacted sam collins #redacted milo greer #redacted shaw pack #redacted solaire clan #redacted tanker #redacted audio sweetheart #redacted audio david #redacted audios #redacted audio milo #redacted audio asher #redacted audio angel #redacted audio babe #redacted audio sam #redacted audio tank #redacted audio tanker #redacted audio darlin #gendered teachers (i dunno if that was a concern)

[boyinafandom]

“Fuck kid..your messed up huh?”

Small snippet of something that’s been rolling around in my head, breaking through my own expectations of what a fic should look like…

Anyway,

In this small snippet there is(drum roll please):

•angst…it’s just angst…maybe comfort? Fuck around and find out ig…

•post prison Reid being kind of a dick..but not really because he can’t tell he’s being mean? Idk like, he knows he’s making a jab but he meant it jokingly? If that makes sense

•you can read my oc Luuca as a y/n but their really not, just do whatever makes you comfortable man idk..

•yelling

•reading people like a book

•”this might end in tears”

•just profilers being profilers

Song of the fic:

________

“Y’know, I think it’s really funny actually Luuca- as much as you love to talk and act like everyone loves you, your just an insecure mess of a person Haha”

He laughs like some thing is funny.

“I mean, you really are just a class clown stereotype! Did you never grow out of it or something?”

My mind goes blank for a second..

“You get picked up off the street by hotch and then what? He turns you into the shining star of training camp? I mean..your the youngest and the most immature”

He says, with another chuckle..we joke like this all the time..but this wasn’t funny

He goes back to writing on the white board jotting down some notes from the last case, he was my tutor after all, since hotch pulled strings to get me into the bau early Despite my background

“What?”

He stops writing

“Is something wrong?”

“That’s a lot coming from you.”

I growl under my breath

He looks confused

“I mean seriously? Do you not see your own flaws? Your just some dumb kid genius burn out who’s only redeemable quality is having three PHD’S and sizable reading comprehension skills”

I huff in between my sentence 

“Luc I was ju-“

“No,yea! but I’m the bad one right? I’m the one with the inflated ego? I mean look at yourself. You’re a complete loser! And you still have the fucking nerve. The gall, the gumption to complain about ME!! And MY flaws.. I mean what? Just because you have brains and a decent face it gives you the right to tell me how I should act?”

“Luc..i…”

“You what?”

“I was only kidding-“

And there I went…going off to soon..

I grab my things

“Whatever..thanks for the lessons”

then I walk out of his apartment

I should have gotten the hell out of doge when u had the chance…what does that mean anyway?

#Spotify #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #Luuca rivers #one shot #fuck i love angst… #criminal minds agnst