#but like. in real life if someone you barely know kissed your fucking eat in your sleep (around other people nonetheless)

[starryluminary]

Could you imagine your first substantial interaction with someone being an ear kiss in your sleep and yet somehow you still end up friends. That’s wild to me I don’t know about you

#the Noco fix hit me like a train and I can’t stop thinking #personally *I* know how this happened in excruciating detail thanks to my observation skills and skillful interpretations /j #but like. in real life if someone you barely know kissed your fucking eat in your sleep (around other people nonetheless) #you’d damn them to hell and never talk to them again #so the concept of moving on from that first impression and managing to get a friendship out of it is. impressive to say the very least #that’s it I’m done. happy valentines #total drama #noco #total drama noco #td noco #for blacklisting purposes #Starry speaks

[roanniom]

i doubt it helps, but i also think eddie is the type to try to be respectful at a family holiday party but ultimately end up wanting to fuck you in a guest room or finger you in a closet at the very least 🫠

Hahahahaha this made it so much worse in the best possible way, I love you anon.

Bad for the Holidays

Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

Note: I wrote most of this in my childhood bedroom while visiting home for thanksgiving. So this got very real, guys Lmao

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY!, teasing, dirty talk, pet names (Princess, bad girl, baby girl), alcohol consumption, oral sex (m receiving), PIV sex / unprotected sex, hand job, cum eating, semi public sex? (Your family is in the same house at the time)

Eddie Munson never thought he’d find himself at a holiday party straight out of a fucking Norman Rockwell painting, but then again he’d never thought he’d meet someone like you. Someone funny and kind and intelligent while simultaneously cool as hell and hot as hell. You’re everything he’d never let himself hope for, and he’s nothing like what he believes you deserve. Not that you listen to him when he voices his fears over not being good enough for you.

“Stop fidgeting, Eddie. This isn’t a big deal,” you whisper to him as the two of you stand on your door step. You pry open his tense fist to hold his hand in yours and he takes a deep breath, looking down at your smile. “They’re gonna love you.”

“Yeah but what if…what if they don’t?” Eddie mumbles. His brow is furrowed and his lips pout and all you want to do is kiss his frown away. But you know there’s no time for that. So you shake your head and squeeze his hand.

“I love you, so that’s all that matters,” you reassure him. “But this conversation is silly because they’re gonna love you.”

And you’re right. Of course. How could people not love Eddie? Especially people who loved you and who wanted to see you happy. And Eddie makes you the happiest you’ve ever been, and that just radiates off you when you walk into the room, proud to show off your boyfriend.

Eddie’s rough around the edges when you first meet him, sure. But he’s gone to great lengths to appear even more presentable than usual tonight, wearing a clean black button down and black jeans that don’t even have any holes in the knees. Before long, and exactly as you knew would happen, Eddie’s regaling your extended family with stories about his friends back in Hawkins and about life on tour as an up snd coming musician.

It’s pretty late by the time things start winding down. The dinner’s long done, your parents have gone to sleep and most of the older family members have puttered off with leftovers in tow. That’s just left you and Eddie with the crowd closer to your age - and amalgamation of cousins and friends of the family in their early to mid twenties. You all play a few rounds of board games and a few glasses of wine deep, Eddie starts looking way more appetizing than the holiday dinner.

You stare at him over your wine glass as one of your cousins prattle’s on about some drama going on at her job. But you can barely hear her because you’re watching Eddie pal around with Josh, your neighbor who you’d crushed on growing up. Next to Eddie, neighbor boy is absolutely nothing, an observation you make silently and with pride. Your boyfriend has an easy air to him, lounging back against the couch as he speaks, legs spread wide and casual. He looks completely at ease, comfortable in his spread out position. If you weren’t still in front of family you’d walk right over there and straddle him there and then. You lick your lips and silently hate him for the way he’s done absolutely nothing and yet has fully managed to get you salivating from afar. It’s unfair.

You couldn’t possibly know, however, just how much you’ve been driving him crazy all night. Bending over to pick things up in your tight little party dress. Munching on appetizers behind your red lips, licking your fingers clean of any crumbs or sauce. Pushing up against him when the two of you passed through narrow hallways and through crowded parts of the house.

He’s been working so hard not to pop an erection in this, the most inappropriate of venues, that he’s spent the last half hour practically avoiding you. When he looks up from his conversation with your boring neighbor, however, just to find you fucking him with your eyes from across the room, he thinks he’s going to combust.

You notice him frown when you finally catch his eye, but you don’t care enough to wonder what’s bothering him. Instead you wink at him - making his jaw drop - before raising your arms in a theatrical stretch with a matching dramatic yawn.

“God, I’m beat. Got a long drive home tomorrow,” you say to nobody in particular. Friends and family try to protest but you jump up and haul Eddie along after you, dragging him out the door.

When you finally make it to your childhood bedroom, you push Eddie towards the bed and lock the door all in one swift motion. You’ve kicked off your shoes and you’re reaching for the zipper of your dress before Eddie’s grabbing at your hips to stop you.

“What in the world are you doing?” he asks through gritted teeth, panic in his eyes. He’s sitting on your bed with you standing in front of him, his hands holding your wrists motionless to halt your effort to disrobe.

“I…I’m trying to get naked. And you should be doing the same,” you reply. Confused by the question in the first place. Eddie gazes up at you with. Wide eyes.

“But your family is like…right outside.”

“So?” you ask, now genuinely confused.

“And you’re tryna…you want to…”

“Fuck. I wanna fuck you. What’s the problem?” You let out an incredulous laugh. His grip loosens on your wrists so you circle your arms around his neck, massaging his shoulders. He seems to grapple for words so you continue to speak. “I don’t get it. You fuck me with my roommates in the next room all the time!”

“First of all, Nancy and Robin have made us listen to them having sex all the time and you know it,” he huffs immediately, but then returns to looking stressed. “And I’m friend with them. I don’t need to impress them…”

Your heart flips at the sentiment but you shake your head.

“You don’t need to impress anyone here either,” you argue, but Eddie’s having none of it. He springs to his feet in front of you, gripping your waist to pull you against him.

“That’s not fucking true and you know it, Princess.” He runs an aggravated hand through his curly hair. “I’m a freak. Your family wants - at least they should want - someone better for you than—,”

“Shut up. Shut up shut up,” you hiss, smacking his chest lightly with your open palm. “Nobody here knows your reputation from Hawkins, and even if they did, it wouldn’t matter because I’m fucking head over heels for you. You got that?”

“Yes ma’am,” Eddie says weakly, the ghost of a smile starting to curl at the corners of his mouth at how worked up you got all of us sudden.

“Now,” you say definitively, taking a step back to put your hands on your hips and take a deep breath. “I had three glasses of wine and I’m feeling…” you cast about for the right word and not being able to remember the word ‘horny’ you say the next best thing you can think of “…frisky. So you’re going to shut up and fuck me, snd you’re going to like it. Understand.”

Eddie looks dumbfounded, gazing at you with a mix of adoration, awe, and humor. He nods emphatically and you take another shuddering breath.

“Ok good. Help me take my clothes off.”

You expect him to crowd you. To throw you on the bed and rip off your dress and be on you so fast you barely see him coming.

Instead he walks over to you slowly, his eyes dark and lips pulled into a small smile. He steps around you to find the zipper you’d struggle with, lips finding the back of your neck as he pushes the zip all the way down to the curve of your lower back. He kisses his way over your shoulder as he pushes the fabric down and off your body. You shiver under his lips and the cool air you’re now exposed to. His hands find the front clasp of your bra - after making a pitstop to squeeze your breasts - and soon your bra joins your dress on the floor.

Eddie mouths at the side of your throat now as his hands grope every square inch he can reach, the bulge in his jeans pressing into your ass through the thin fabric of your panties.

It’s Heaven. Or close. The only thing is that it is noticeably, deafeningly quiet.

“W-why - oh. Why aren’t you saying anything?” you mumble out. Eddie chuckles against your skin and hips at your ear lobe.

“Told me to shut up,” he whispers. His hand slides forward to cup your mound and you swallow a moan.

“Oh so now you listen to what I tell you,” you bristle. Eddie’s chuckle vibrates through you again and you grind back against him intentionally. You grab his hand and shove it into your panties, no longer satisfied being touched through the fabric.

“I forgot. My baby’s feeling…frisky.” His voice is low and rich with amusement and sensuality. You huff but don’t protest because his big, thick fingers are finally where you wanted them all night. Swirling through your slick, his middle finger prodding at your entrance but not yet pushing in.

You try to step forward to urge him toward the bed, but Eddie pushes you to the side, his free hand coming to brace up against the wall in front of you.

“Not so fast. That bed is squeaky as hell,” he mutters between kisses to your shoulder.

“Well yeah. It’s almost as old as me,” you say, rolling your eyes.

“Yeah, and you squeak under me all the time too, Princess.” You go to roll your eyes again at his cocky tone but the quickly roll back into your head as he shoves not one but two fingers into your tight heat. You let out a high pitched squeal that you do your best to smother with your hand and he laughs. “See? What did I tell you?”

You don’t say anything at first because you’re so lost in the feeling of finally getting what you want. Eddie leans his weight against you as he picks up momentum with his hand, and you find your front getting pressed up against the wall.

“Needed you aaaaaall fucking day, Princess. You’re absolutely infuriating,” Eddie says raggedly into the back of your neck. His fingers hook up and you gasp at the added pleasure.

“How am I - oh god. In…infuriating?” you barely manage to ask in response.

“Tried to be on my best behavior. But you had to prance around looking like a fucking wet dream, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t do anything…” you try to argue, but Eddie snaps the waistband of your panties, stretched out as they are from his fingering, and you flinch.

“Oh yeah? Then why did I know the color of your panties by the time we started dinner?”

He’s right of course. You’d been intentionally finding reasons to bend over in front of him, or cross and uncross your legs in front of him - anything to draw his attention between your thighs. As if his attention was ever anywhere else to begin with.

“Wanted to make me slip up, huh? Wanted me to drag you into the bathroom in the middle of dinner and fuck your brains out?”

“Yes!” you gasp, though you’re less sure that you’re affirming his statement and more sure that your orgasm is fast approaching. “Oh fuck, Eddie.”

“Bend over,” he says suddenly. His voice is more demanding than usual and a thrill runs up your spine. He steps back and gives you room, which you use to shuffle a bit to the side and lean over, bracing your palms against the seat of an old wicker chair you’ve had in your room since elementary school. With your ass up, you half worry that Eddie will forget where you are and spank you loudly, but he seems to remember and opts to grope you instead. He slides your panties to your ankles and you step out of them, widening your stance in a way that has him humming appreciatively behind you.

You steal a glance over your shoulder to confirm the suspicion that he is, in fact, fisting his hard cock, staring at your ready pussy and lining himself up.

“You play the good girl so well, but you’re just a bad girl for me, isn’t that right Princess?” Eddie asks as he pushes the tip of his cock in a circle around your aching entrance. You whine at the fact that he’s not yet inside you, trying to push back to make him slide in. Eddie laughs and grips you by your hips, hauling them higher and making your knees shake. “Look at you. Not even listening because you want my cock that bad.”

You toss a glare over your shoulder at him.

“Eddie if you don’t get inside me right - fuck!” You hiss through your teeth when he slides all the way into you at once. One hand slides down the small of your back, up your spine, to grip solidly at the back of your neck as he wastes absolutely no time getting a good pace going.

The slap of skin on skin ringing out in your small childhood bedroom is absolutely obscene, as are the whimpers that spill out of you despite your best efforts.

“Eddie…so fucking - oh!”

You’re trying to tell him how good he’s making you feel, but you’re sure he’s able to gather that from the way you’re completely unable to finish your statement. Eddie’s chuckle vibrates into your body and you reach back one hand to clutch at his where it holds you at your hip.

“Feels good, baby? Hm?” he asks, almost mockingly but you can’t muster enough energy to reply in any way aside from genuine.

“Feels so good, Eds,” you whimper. Despite his teasing, the way you’re scrabbling to make contact with him tugs at his heartstrings. He lifts his hand up from your hip enough to grab your reaching one.

“Christ, even when you’re a bad girl, you’re still so fucking sweet,” he mumbles, leaning down over you to press bruising kisses to your back and shoulders. You pant beneath him and relish in the additional contact.

“Eddie…mmm Eddie. So full.”

“Fuck. You can’t say shit like that when you haven’t cum yet, princess. I’m only fucking human, I’m gonna fucking blow.”

“Good! Give it to me,” you whine out, and Eddie pretty much loses it.

“Ok, come here my lil greedy baby,” Eddie says gruffly, though not without humor. He pulls out of you - and he has to shush you when you whine in protest - before hauling you around so that he’s sitting on your wicker chair and sliding you into his lap.

“Fucking yes. Oh my god yes.” You’re practically crying now as Eddie gets straight to bouncing you up and down on his cock. You cling to him, your fingers tightening in his wild curly hair as you breathe heavily and gaze at him with unfocused eyes.

“You’re just a horny little mess, aren’t you?” Eddie chuckles darkly. You nod and grip at his shoulders so the leverage let’s you help him move you up and down on his lap. Eddie kisses at the hollow at the base of your throat before looking back into your hazy eyes. “Hey. You with me?” He lightly taps your cheek with his palm when you don’t respond, so far gone in pleasure.

“Y-yeah?” you hiccup. Since you’re bouncing enough on your own shaking thighs, Eddie’s able to slide a free hand from the meat of your hips down to start playing at your clit. So you’re even farther gone now.

“Did you bring any turtlenecks in that little suitcase of yours?” Eddie asks you and your brow knits on what he finds to be a cute little scrunch as you struggle to comprehend the question.

“Yeah I brought one—oh my fucking god…”

Before you’d even finished answering his question, Eddie’s sucking and nipping at the skin of your throat. An action he knows can send you over the edge.

And it does.

You cum in a burst of pleasure that has you rocking against Eddie desperately, clinging to him as you do your best to keep him inside you at the deepest point for as long as possible.

Eddie, to his credit, let’s you do what you want with him. He holds your face in his hands and presses your foreheads together, nodding at your quiet moans.

“There it is. That’s what you wanted, sweet girl? That’s it.”

He’s patient as you come down from your high, but it’s his dick that twitches expectantly inside you which reminds you he still has to cum.

You do your best to start bouncing again, but your legs are shaky. Eddie laughs and stills you, his big hands on your waist, and you grumble.

“Shhh don’t worry about that. It’s good enough just hold you,” he reassures you. You look at him with bleary, pleasure soaked eyes.

“No. You need to cum, too,” you insist. Eddie shrugs, clearly content.

“Having my dick deep inside you is enough of a win, Princess,” he says with a chuckle.

But you’re having none of it. You struggle to your feet and then slide down to the floor in front of him to settle down on your knees. Eddie’s eye go wide and you grip his wet cock, fisting up and down on his lap.

“In high school I wouldn’t even listen to songs with dirty lyrics. Now my boyfriend’s dick is out while he sits on my reading chair in my childhood bedroom,” you observe irreverently with a laugh. Eddie joins in, though his laugh is more strained the longer you jerk him off.

“That’s what I was saying. Everyone thinks you’re so innocent. And yet here you are - just got your brains fucked out and now you’re on your knees for me.”

As if to punctuate and prove his statement, you lean forward and swallow him whole, your cheeks hollowing to create a tantalizing amount of suction,

“Oh mother of - fuck!” Eddie whispers harshly. You bob up and down on his cock without preamble. You could tell how close he was from the near steady stream of pre-cum that leaked from his tip.

Your hands knead into his thighs as you take him deeper and deeper, being careful not to gag too loudly when his spongey head hits the back of your throat.

“Fuck, Princess. That’s…oh god that’s…”

He’s rendered even more speechless when you grab his hand and place it on the back of your head, pressing down to indicate that you’d like him to control your movements. Something you’d never done with previous lovers. Only Eddie.

Eddie curses under his breath and blinks rapidly before doing as you’ve asked him to do - guiding you up and down on his cock by his grip on the back of your head. His cock pushes deep into your throat and Eddie’s eyes roll back into his skull.

“Jesus H. Christ you’re such a bad girl, letting me do this right now. Such a bad fucking girl.” He’s rambling at this point and you love it. You snake a hand between your thighs and begin playing with your clit as he fucks your throat. Overwhelmed by the feeling of him using you and the nature of his words.

When he lets you pull back to finally breath, you choke and sputter before speaking up, voice wrecked.

“Like being a bad girl for you, Eds,” you moan against his balls, jerking his spit and slick soaked cock with your hand. Eddie’s sure he won’t survive this and closes his eyes against the intense pleasure conjured up by the image of you before him.

“God, you get so messy for me, Princess. You know I love that.” You nod frantically and that’s when he notices your other hand has disappeared between your legs, touching yourself. He bites his lip to smother his groan. “Were you really touching yourself while choking on my dick, baby?”

You nod again with wide, doe eyes.

“I wanna cum again,” you say simply, brow knitting together from the way you toy with your clit feverishly. “But I want you to cum, too.”

“Baby girl, you keep looking at me and touching me like that, I’m gonna cum any second.”

Your breath speeds up and so does your finger on your clit. Your fist moves faster up and down his cock and you know he’s close, so you scootch up even closer between his spread thighs.

“Where d’you wanna cum, Eddie?” you ask. “My face? My tongue? My tits?” You model each option for him, turning your head to offer your cheek, sticking out your tongue, and shimmying your naked chest to make your breasts bounce.

“Oh shit oh shit…” Is all Eddie can say as his eyes zero in on your tits. His abdomen seizes and you deliver a handful more expert tugs, angling his cock towards your chest just in time. His white cum paints your tits just as your own second orgasm takes over, making your spasm a bit and concave into yourself.

It’s another minute or two before either of you move, your hand finally stilling and letting go of his softening cock. Eddie slumps back against the chair and rubs his eyes harshly with the heels of his hands before gazing back down at your messy figure.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Princess…” he mutters low. You simply grin at him, gathering the cum on your tits and placing it in your mouth with a happy hum.

“Thanks for my present, Eddie,” you say in a lilting voice and Eddie rolls his eyes at you, reaching down to haul you up off the floor and into his lap.

“If anyone in your family heard that and decides they don’t like me because someone couldn’t keep it in her pants…” he grumbles the threat half heartedly, contradicting his own tone by kissing your throat. Right on the fresh bruise that you will definitely need to cover with a turtleneck tomorrow. You giggle and cling to him.

“Nobody heard it. And besides, isn’t keeping me happy the most important thing?” you ask cheekily. Eddie laughs, a little closer to full volume this time, and crushes you to his chest.

“You happy, Princess?” he asks a beat later. Despite the volume of his laugh, the question comes out quieter. As if he’s not 100% certain what your answer will be. You pull back and take his face in your hands so you can imbue your response with all the strength you can muster after being fucked so good.

“I’m absurdly happy, Eddie Munson. And you better be, too, because I don’t plan on giving this up any time soon.”

He kisses you stupid in response, finally deciding the squeaky bed will have to do and hauling you over to start getting ready for sleep.

~*~

The next morning over coffee, eggs, and toast you get to witness yet again just how much your boyfriend has charmed your family and friends. They hang on his every word, laugh at his jokes, and ask him questions. And you know they aren’t just being nice, because they’ve never been this nice to any guy you’ve brought home before.

Watching Eddie regale some of your cousins with a particularly silly story from his latest small town tour, the sun hits him just right as it filters through the kitchen window. He’s back lit, haloing his hair and making him look particularly handsome. Your heart swells and you can’t take the yearning adoration that fills you to the brim.

To offset the achingly sweet emotions swirling within you, you have to do something silly. When Eddie looks at you over someone’s shoulder, you mouth “you’re fucking hot” at him and his face lights up in a massive grin, shaking his head. He mouths back -

“You’re bad.”

~*~

Tiny taglist: @millenialcatlady @theoncrayjoy @sacklerscumrag @cowboy-kylo @boomhauer @sparks363 @copycatkillerfics @boostilinski @wroteclassicaly @eddiesprincess86 @bambigoth-sims   @chaoschaoswriting @lassie-bird @softpshycopath @katsukis1wife @spookyreidd

#Eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #Eddie munson x you #Eddie munson fanfic #stranger things smut

[joelalorian]

Fall Into Me - Chapter Four: Until I had met you there was no sun in my sky

dbf!Joel x f!reader

Summary: Joel is hanging on by a thread as a single father to a tenacious 10-year-old Sarah. Feeling like he's drowning, like the world is about to spit him out, he needs some help before he breaks in half. At your dad's insistence, you show up in his life and change everything.

Story is inspired by the song Fall Into Me by Forest Blakk. Chapter titles will be lyrics from the song.

Word Count: 3.5k

Chapter Warnings: Mature, under 18 take a hike. No outbreak AU. Lots of feelings, confusion, and self doubt. Two idiots falling and pining for each other, but there's a little bit of progress. Tommy is the hero in this chapter. Age gap of about 9 years (Reader 24/25, Joel 33/34). No use of y/n. Reader has a nickname used only by her dad. Emily is modeled after my sister and JB is based on my dad, who used to try setting me up with his younger work buddies when I was in my 20s :)

Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics

Thank you for reading this little tale! I did not expect all the love - my heart is fit to burst over all the wonderful comments and reblogs!

Chapter Three | Main Masterlist

Sleep evaded Joel Saturday night, his mind unable to shut down and rest. He spent half the night searching for words to fit what he was experiencing. The right one didn’t occur to him until nearly five o’clock in the morning.

Turmoil.

That was the perfect word to describe the utter confusion and uncertainty boiling inside him.

His date went about as well as could be expected when one wasn’t particularly interested in the other person. There was conversation, but it mostly revolved around Annica and her interests. She asked a few polite questions about Joel but didn’t seem too interested in his responses. To be fair, they were short and rather ineloquent, but he barely had the chance to talk about Sarah before the woman changed the subject. She was also very much not his type.

She wasn’t you.

That’s the part which caused the most turmoil.

Joel didn’t realize how quickly he was falling for you until he was on a date with someone else. It somehow felt like a betrayal toward you, even though you and Joel weren’t together. Even though you didn’t even know that he liked you, more than liked you.

This entire thing was eating him up inside, all your interactions since Friday, but especially the way you bolted from him last night. He didn’t understand what happened until he checked out his face in the mirror, your parting comment finally making sense.

Annica had kissed him goodnight when he dropped her off. He knew she wanted more, at least a real kiss, but he offered nothing other than a loose hug and brief thanks for joining him. So, she pressed her painted lips to his cheek for several moments too long, subtly trying to turn his face toward hers, before he finally stepped back and walked away. He didn’t even wait for her to get into her house safely.

To his dismay, she left a clear and distinct reminder of her on his cheek that he was not aware of until you mentioned it. His face burned with the feeling of being marked like territory, and the worst part was you saw it. Who the fuck knew what you thought of him now.

Joel needed advice, someone to talk this all through with. If the situation didn’t involve you, he would have gone to you for advice. You were so easy to talk to and he opened up more easily with you than he had with anyone else in his entire life. But that was out of the question for… obvious reasons.

Your dad was equally as easy to talk to, a quality you must have inherited from him. But he couldn’t turn to JB about this for the same obvious reasons.

That left his brother. Tommy would give Joel a good ribbing about all this. Joel wasn’t ashamed to admit that his brother had more practical experience with dating and complicated relationships, especially recently, than he did. It was time to capitalize on all of Tommy’s shenanigans.

Dangerously under-caffeinated and bleary-eyed, Joel made bacon, eggs, and pancakes for the usual Sunday morning family breakfast. Tommy joined them a little after nine o’clock and helped himself to the spread. He knew better than to ask Joel about his date in front of Sarah, so the younger brother made quiet conversation with Sarah as Joel sipped at his coffee. She told him all about her adventure to the movies with you and how much she loved hanging out with you, how smart you were, and how pretty.

A stupid grin spread over Joel’s face as his daughter spoke about you. He could feel Tommy’s narrowed gaze burning into the side of his head, which he ignored until Sarah finished her food and ran off to play a video game in the living room.

“You gonna make me ask?” Tommy grinned at Joel as he cleared the table. Joel merely quirked a brow and focused on washing the dishes. “Fine, ya ol’ grumpy ass. How was the date?”

“Was alright. She talked, a lot,” Joel emphasized, “and mostly about herself. We don’t have much in common other than we like to eat. The movie she picked to see was God awful. I’d rather have seen the other movie with Sarah.”

“Really?” Tommy placed the last of the dirty flatware next to the sink, watching as Joel scrubbed each item before rinsing it off. “Annica texted me that she had a wonderful time and hoped there’d be a second date. Asked if I could put in a good word for her. Guess that’s not happenin’.”

“There’d be no point. She’s not who I’m interested in.” The words were out of his mouth before he realized what he was saying, and he cringed when Tommy latched right on them.

“Ohhhh, and who might you be interested in, dear brother?” The shit-eating grin on the younger brother’s face let Joel know that Tommy already had an idea on who piqued his interest. “Couldn’t be JB’s hot little daughter, could it? You going cradle robbin’ now?”

Punching his brother in the arm, hard, Joel growled. “I ain’t robbin’ any cradles, asshole. She’s only about nine years younger than me.”

“Oh, is that all?” Tommy teased, rubbing his arm to soothe the sting.

“Don’t get me started on how you almost got busted for statutory rape last year, dickhead.”

“Hey now, I’m just teasing. Don’t get your panties all in a bunch.” Tommy surrendered, adding a grumbled, “And you know damn well that wasn’t on purpose. That girl looked 25! She sure had me fooled.”

Joel nodded, heading out to the back patio with another cup of coffee. Tommy followed, stopping briefly to grab a can of soda from the fridge. The pair sat quietly listening to the sound of songbirds singing the songs of their people before Joel finally spoke.

“I feel like an idiot asking this, but how do you tell if a woman is into you?”

Tommy nearly spilled soda all down the front of himself, the question caught him so off-guard. “Whadda ya mean?” he spluttered, trying not to choke on the carbonated liquid.

Rolling his big brown eyes with a huff, Joel glared at his brother. “I mean just what I said. I’m so outta practice with this. I keep second guessin’ everything. I just don’t know…”

Taking pity on his older brother, Tommy refrained from razzing him further. He was intrigued by this version of his brother who lacked self-confidence, so different from the over-confident man Joel used to be, at least when it came to women.

“Just so I understand, do you want to know how to tell if any woman is into you or a specific woman?”

Brows pulling together, Joel stared at Tommy blankly for a moment. “Does it make a difference?”

Tommy’s lips spread into a wide grin, deep brown eyes sparkling mischievously. “It sure as hell does, brother. There are few key ways to tell with most women, but if it’s a specific woman you’re curious about, I may have some intel.”

The struggle to hide his overwhelming curiosity on the ‘intel’ his brother had was a losing game, and Joel relented, his cheeks growing hot as he uttered the words. “Fine. It’s JB’s daughter.”

The room stilled as the brothers stared at each other, the grin on Tommy’s face growing impossibly wider until nearly all his pearly whites were on display. “I knew it! You dirty dog.”

“Tommy,” Joel growled, drawing out the two syllables until his brother sat back in his chair with a satisfied smirk.

“Fine, no razzin’.” Tommy grumbled. He waited a few beats until Joel grew even more uncomfortable. “She’s into you, too.”

Joel perked up at that. “That’s your intel? How do you know?”

Looking around the backyard, Tommy thought of all the times he’d been around and caught you ogling his brother when you thought no one was watching, but none rivaled that time in the kitchen when you stared as Joel pulled his tee shirt off to put in on right side out. Tallying it all up in his mind, Tommy was certain that you had a thing for his brother. And now, it seemed he had a thing for you, too.

The question Tommy had now was, would either of you do anything about it?

With recent history as proof, he had his doubts.

Perhaps it was time to give you each a little nudge.

“It’s in the way she looks at you, all wide-eyed with wonder, like she’s imagining what it’d be like to be with you. I flirted with her for nearly an hour one day and she never looked at me like that once.” Tommy smirked at the glassy look that overcame his brother’s eyes. “Well, that and the drool dripping down her chin every time she sees you.”

“Yeah… wait, what?” It took a moment for Joel to catch on. “Fuckin’ asshole, I swear. She doesn’t drool when she looks at me.”

Laughter rumbled from deep within Tommy’s chest. “She might as well do with as into you as she is. I’m telling you, pay attention to how she is around you and you’ll see.”

The brothers fell silent again with Joel’s thoughts drowning in you. If what Tommy said was true, then you must be hurting over the fact that he went on a date with someone else, more so since you also saw him on that date. Already feeling like such a dick, worry over you weighed more heavily on him this morning. He had to fix this, but how?

Part of Joel wanted to rush over to JB’s and check on you, but the other part was terrified of how that would work out, especially if your dad was home and wanted to know why his best friend was frantic to see his daughter.

Shit. JB. Joel still needed to figure out how to navigate that part of this entire situation. The two of you could like each other all day long, but how would JB react?

Joel envisioned several scenarios that ended with him getting his nose bashed in by your old man. He wasn’t looking forward to that.

“What about JB?” Joel finally broke the silence, looking once again to his younger brother for guidance. “If I’m gonna do this, I want to do it right.”

Placing his empty bottle on the patio table between them, Tommy nodded. “Ok. Let’s think about this. Do you always check with a chick’s dad before askin’ her out?”

“’Course not, but this is different.”

“I get that but hear me out. What if you try before you buy?” Tommy asked.

Joel immediately stiffened. “I’m not gonna just fuck her before asking her on a date. Jesus, Tommy.” Not that he didn’t want to fuck you… he most certainly did, but Joel wanted to do this right. He wanted more than just sex. He wanted something meaningful, and he suspected you would as well.

“That’s not what I meant, asshole. Ya can quit clutchin’ your pearls like you ain’t banged a chick before the first date before.”

“Tommy,” Joel growled again. Little brothers were the worst no matter what age they were.

“Jeez, alright, fine. You’re really into her, I get it. I’m not sayin’ sleep with her first. I’m suggestin’ you ask her out and see where this is goin’ before you go to JB with your tail between your legs, is all.” Tommy explained, already getting fed up with how easily Joel got his feathers ruffled.

Considering the advice, and ignoring his brother’s snippy tone, Joel bobbed his head in a nod. “That’s not a bad idea, actually.”

“I’m full of good ideas, sometimes. I got another one, actually. Get your grumpy ass to the store and buy some new shirts. Everything you own is at least ten years old and worn down. You need to dress better if you’re gonna date a younger woman.”

Another point to Tommy. He sure was racking them up.

“Fine. I fuckin’ hate to admit it, but you’re right,” Joel grumbled, looking down at the tee shirt he was wearing. It used to be black and faded to a cloudy gray from years of wearing and washing. “You mind watchin’ Sarah for a while so I can run to the mall?”

“Not at all, brother. I was hoping to watch the game on your flat screen anyway.” Tommy led the way back inside the house.

Emily: Sounds like you need some retail therapy, asap.

The pair of you spent the past hour texting about Joel’s date the night before. Emily’s emoji reactions were priceless as you recounted seeing them together at the movie theater and she was pissed on your behalf when you told her about the lipstick mark on his cheek. The conversation came full circle before Emily suggested the retail therapy.

You: Omg do I ever. Mall?

Emily: I can’t ☹ Ed wants my help with the garden. Again. I swear, I hate this fucking garden.

You: Booo. How dare you pick your husband over me

Emily: I gotta go with the one who has the bigger dick. Ur girl has needs u know that 😉

You: Yeah yeah. Chat later?

Emily: You bet. Have fun. Buy lots!

An hour later, you walked through Barton Creek Square, window shopping with a chocolate smoothie clutched in your hand. Not sure exactly what you were in the mood for, you started with clothing. This mall was a bit upscale for your budget, but you always enjoyed perusing the department store discount racks. Tossing your empty cup into the garbage can, you entered the large store.

Somehow, you found yourself searching through flannel shirts in the men’s department. Stopping for a moment once you realized what you were doing, you sighed. There was no escaping thoughts of Joel Miller, even subconsciously, it seemed. Huffing in frustration, you turned to walk back to the women’s section where you’d find things you actually needed when you heard your name.

Joel stood on the other side of the rack, eyes wide with surprise at the sight of you. His cheek was clean, no lipstick mark in sight, you noted. Just the normal, totally endearing patchy scruff. “Hey darlin’, what are you doing here?”

“Shopping,” you stated the obvious with a shrug, delighted at the pink tinge creeping up his cheeks.

“Me, too. Obviously.” Joel nodded, rolling his eyes – at you or himself, you weren’t sure. “I could use your help, actually.”

You weren’t expecting that. He looked at you with such open hope in his eyes, you couldn’t deny him. “Ok, shoot.” Your heart nearly exploded at the smile that spread across his face, putting his dimple on full display.

“I can’t decide which of these to go with,” Joel replied, holding up several flannels. After a moment, he put those across the top of the discount rack and held up a pile of tee shirts. “Or these.”

Eyes taking in the details of each selection – he had good taste; you could picture each option on him – you hummed. “Have you tried any of them on?” Joel shook his head, the mop of curls swaying deliciously with the movement. “Ok. Go try them on. That’s usually how I decide.”

Turning toward the fitting room with a nod, Joel paused and turned back around. “Come with me? I need your honest opinion on each one.”

Brow furrowed, you followed behind him wordlessly, eyes straying to his backside of their own accord. He wore the same dark, fitted jeans as last night and you swore beneath your breath at yet another reminder of his date. No amount of staring at his nice ass could pull that jealous feeling from your gut. He went on a date with someone and for all you knew, it could have been the best damn date of his entire damn life.

Leaning back against the wall opposite the fitting room Joel chose, you crossed your arms in front of your chest and wondered what the hell you were doing. You came to the mall for a distraction, to treat yourself and get your mind off the man on the other side of the fitting room door. Now you were… what? His wardrobe consultant?

Helping Joel pick out new clothes seemed like the job of a girlfriend, not his daughter’s babysitter. Let’s face it, you thought, that’s all you were to him. Mood growing sourer by the second, you startled as the door ripped open in front of you.

“What do you think?”

The universe was a fickle bitch. It wasn’t fair that Joel stood there looking like the man of your dreams and you didn’t get to call him yours.

The first shirt Joel tried on fit like a glove, like the factory made it with his frame as the model in mind. The material had just the right amount of stretch across the breadth of his chest and shoulders, while hanging on for dear life around his biceps.

After ogling him for far too long, your eyes finally met Joel’s. “Looks good,” you said, the cadence of your voice not giving away the riotous flutter of desire flaring to life deep in your lower belly. “Let’s see the next one.”

Chocolate eyes sparkled with delight at your response as Joel slipped back into the fitting room. What you wouldn’t give to follow him in there. Already picturing it in your mind, you would slip to your knees in front of him, fingers undoing his belt and the button of his jeans before slowly sliding the zipper down. You’d wind one hand inside his pants to trace the curve of his cock through his boxer briefs before slipping the length of him out of the little secret pocket. Joel would be trying on his shirts as your lips—

“How about this one?”

“Jesus fucking nutcracker!” you exclaimed, Joel’s voice jolting you right out of that wonderful little daydream. So deep into the fantasy, you hadn’t heard the fitting room door open.

Concerned, Joel reached out a hand, his calloused fingertips and palm running over the bare skin of your forearm as you steadied yourself. “Do, uh… do you have Tourette’s or something?”

Bemused, you blinked up at him, head thumping back against the wall. “What? No, no. I was just lost in thought, and you startled me.”

“Not that there’s anything wrong with having Tourette’s, you know.” Joel tripped over himself to make sure you didn’t think he was making fun of the disorder.

You waved him off. “Of course not.” Clearing your throat, eyes closing to recenter yourself, you counted to ten. The heat of Joel’s gaze like a burn on your skin, you opened your eyes and assessed his shirt. It was nice, a deep burgundy color, but the fit differed from the last one. You hated it. “I like the way the other one fit you better.”

The pattern continued until Joel tried on every shirt in his pile. You managed to keep your mind from straying again by making conversation.

“How did your date go last night?” You dreaded the answer but needed to know.

“It was… I’ve had better dates. She talked a lot,” he said through the fitting room door. “I couldn’t wait for it to be over, honestly. I just wanted to be home.”

“So, no second date then?” you confirmed, butterflies beginning to take flight in your belly.

“Hell no.”

A wave of relief washed over you at the conviction in Joel’s voice, but you tried not to let it show on your face or in your voice as he stepped through the door. “That’s too bad. You deserve to find someone great, Joel.”

He looked at you for a long time, his eyes penetrating like he was trying to tell you something without using words. You just had no idea what. You were about to bid him farewell as he paid for the shirts you chose – the bluish gray tee shirt that fit him so well and a flannel with similar hues, and two more just like them – when he stopped you.

“Uh, would you have lunch with me?” he asked shyly, eyes brimming with such eager hopefulness you nearly melted.

Part of you wanted to turn him down over hurt feelings he wasn’t even aware of, but you couldn’t. Not after what he just told you about his date. The other part of you screamed not to read too much into it, that he wasn’t asking you on a date. It would just be lunch with your boss. But the final part of you, the hopeless romantic who wore her heart on her sleeve and just helped the man pick out clothes like a girlfriend would, screamed that this could be your chance to get closer, that it could be a date if you made it one.

Fearing you stayed silent too long arguing with yourself, you rushed out a quick, “Sure.” Joel’s face lit up like you’d never seen before. He didn’t look anywhere near this happy when he left for his dinner date the night before.

tbc

Taglist: @mellymbee @untamedheart81 @anoverwhelmingdin @runningmom94 @leilanixx @pedropascalfan221 @lovelyjess69 @sarahhxx03 @sofiparallel @tammythr @lulawantmula @islacharlotte @allyourfavesinoneblog @lover-of-books-and-tea @pedropascalsbbg @ashleyfilm @brittmb115 @lilmizmoz @loveisacowboyyy @shotgun-shelby @deninoe

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel x female reader #the last of us #tlou #dbf!joel #Fall Into Me #pedro pascal #eventual smut #mutual pining #idiots falling for each other

[cuubism]

physical therapy, part 6.

--

Hob's been wavering on things like timeline with Dream because, well, he doesn't want to push, but he does obviously want more. There's a lot that he wants, and he thinks Dream wants it too. But Hob can be patient. Definitely. For sure. He's the epitome of patience.

In any case, after a few more dates which are oh so very patient, and in which Dream seems to be gradually coming more and more out of his shell, Hob finally takes the plunge and texts him:

If you want, come over to my place this weekend and I'll cook for you, and adds his address.

He paces nervously while waiting for a response. Dream coming over... he doesn't know how that would end. Well, it would hopefully at least end in Dream eating a proper meal, but other than that...

It's really not so long before he gets a response, though it feels like an eternity.

Okay, writes Dream, with a smile. 🙂 Should I bring anything?

Just yourself, writes Hob.

A shame, for I was planning to arrive incorporeally.

Hob smiles to himself at the comment. Dream is so much brighter once he decides he’s allowed to be.

On the agreed-upon date, Hob spends a truly excessive amount of time getting ready. He’s not even cooking anything elaborate, as he felt convinced he’d wind up fucking it up out of nerves if he did. But really, the quality of his food isn’t the wild card. What he’s nervous about is Dream’s response to being in his home. To being alone. Whether he’ll be okay with it. He doesn’t want to make Dream nervous.

But Dream arrives on time, and he’s smiling when Hob opens the door. He’s also carrying a huge canvas.

Oh!” Hob says, distracted from even kissing him hello. “What have you got there?”

“It is for you,” Dream says, and turns the canvas around so Hob can see it.

It’s a large painting of a rather clever-looking cat, bright colors and bold swathes of paint. It reminds Hob of Dream’s finger paintings, actually, but far more precise in technique. It’s lovely. It’s so cute. And much more playful than Dream’s older art, the pieces he had shown Hob from before his injury.

“Oh, it’s gorgeous,”  he says, and Dream smiles shyly. “I take it your grip’s been feeling steadier, then?”

“Somewhat,” Dream says, following Hob deeper into the flat, as Hob takes the painting and sets it on top of a low bookshelf, propped against the wall. Later he’ll have to hang it up properly. “I am. Enjoying painting again. I think.”

It’s so good to hear. Each time Hob sees Dream he seems incrementally better. Less frozen. More outgoing. And it always makes Hob realize that he’s only gotten to see a fraction of the life that truly exists inside of him.

“I’m so glad to hear that, darling,” he says.

It hurts to think of the version of Dream that might have been there before being hurt. But Hob likes the Dream that he gets to know now.

He leads Dream into the kitchen and bids him to sit down at the table while Hob serves their food, which is staying warm on the stove. Normally, when he invites someone over, he’d offer them wine, but he doesn’t want Dream to get the wrong idea. God, he’s probably massively overthinking things. He’s being totally paranoid, he knows it. But it feels so important that it be right. He’d never forgive himself if he made Dream feel unsafe around him, even if it was by accident.

“I am curious what you’ve prepared to attempt to persuade me to change my habits,” Dream says, after taking a sip of the water Hob’s handed him.

“Something with a lot of butter,” Hob says, and Dream laughs softly. Dream needs it, though. He needs something that’ll stick to his bones.

What he has is tarragon chicken—fried in, truly, an excessive amount of butter—served over rice with string beans. If this can’t encourage Dream to eat real meals, nothing can.

And, gratifyingly, he’s right. Dream devours it, and has seconds. As he eats his own serving more sedately Hob wonders when the last time was that somebody actually cooked for him.

They barely even talk, but Hob doesn’t mind. He just wants Dream to eat.

“You can cook,” Dream says, and Hob laughs.

“Was that in question?”

A light blush graces Dream’s cheeks. “When you first mentioned cooking for me, I had the thought that you were a catch. For that reason among others.”

Hob can’t help himself from smiling—and perhaps blushing a bit, too. “I’ll have to keep it up, and maybe you’ll keep me.”

Dream looks down at his food, but murmurs, “I would like to.”

So Hob takes his hand on the table and squeezes it.

Later in the evening, when they’ve been ensconced on the couch for a while watching mindless telly, Dream’s head on his shoulder, Hob says, “You can stay over if you want. No expectations. Just don’t want you walking home in the dark.”

He’ll walk Dream home if that’s what he really wants, but it’s already midnight and it really might be easier to just stay put.

“Am I allowed to stay over in your bed?” Dream asks, and Hob’s pulse jumps.

“That’s what you want?”

Dream nods.

So, heart still beating hard, Hob says, “Alright. Come on, then.”

And Dream takes his hand as Hob draws him up.

He gets Dream situated with some of his pajamas, which are far too large on him, and with a spare toothbrush and so on, and when they’re finally ready he tries not to be too awkward or nervous as he climbs into bed and gestures Dream to follow, saying, “Come on, love.”

He expects Dream might hesitate, but he doesn’t, just crawls into bed after him and presses himself all up against Hob’s body, laying his head on Hob’s chest. And— God. He’s really decided that he trusts Hob. It puts a lump in Hob’s throat.

He feels like a fucking teenager again, stomach all fluttery just at the feeling of Dream lying against him. In past relationships, Hob had mostly jumped in sex-first, questions-later. But maybe there are more benefits to taking things slow than he thought. It makes every tiny thing feel monumental.

“Comfortable?” he asks, and Dream nods, hair brushing Hob’s chin.

“Yes, thank you.”

Hob pulls the blankets up over them, pets his hair. Dream lets out a long, happy sigh, and snuggles closer.

I’m going to keep you, Hob thinks. “Goodnight, Dream,” he says.

#a nice moment before ANGST #you didn't think we were done with angst did you XD #physical therapy fic #dreamling #my writing #tarragon chicken is a family recipe--thin chicken cutlets breaded and fried in butter with white wine wash and tons of chopped tarragon #i recommend

[svmjaeyvn]

love maze, s.jy.

chapter one pairing: jake x afab!reader word count: tbd (series)

masterlist

add yourself to the taglist here!

genre: college!au, mutual friends, fake dating, smut.

synopsis: an unfortunate encounter, drunken mistakes, and a sort of (definitely) stalker leads jake sim ‘dating’ his best friend’s childhood crush.

or, your life gets intertwined with a rich boy’s in attempt to not get sued by his crazy personal fangirl and like with all good cliches, sex overcomplicates things.

contents: smut, sort of strangers to fuck buddies to lovers pipeline, childhood best friend!jay, mentions of best friend! yunjin, curly haired & mixed reader, uni!au, rich nepo baby!jake, enha frat boys, lots of kissing, fake dating turning into fwb real quick, totally way too into it for it to be fake early on, big booty reader that’s jake’s obsessed with, partying and alcohol use, slight violence, he fell first and harder trope, stem bf & writer gf, (kinda overly) possessive jake, some angst to spice things up, daddy issues, hyper independent reader who struggles with her feelings, fluff and happy ending!!

a/n: hello~ i’ve never been a tumblr girly but i have went through my w*ttpad era back in 2018 so bare with me y’all. this will be a series but not that long (i hope) so pls look forward to it. warning tags will be placed before each “chapter” to specify what to expect. pls pls reblog and interact, i’d love to have feedback and see what your thoughts are. okay! yay, for now enjoy and thank you sm :D

MDNI, 18+

tap below to continue

CHAPTER ONE: PINEAPPLE

masterlist next

word count: 2.5k

warnings: alcohol, partying, creeper in a store, bestie jay, already stepping up to be a fake bf jake duhhh

a/n: short and sweet intro

"HEY SORRY, JAY's busy—”

"Hey baby!" You smile brightly, attempting to seem causal but emphasizing the conversation rather loudly. Wandering through the isles aimlessly, stopping to pretend to browse the selection of cereals while peeking through the corner of your eye, you keep watch on the unfamiliar man that seemed to be following you.

You've been at the store for 15 minutes, around 10 of those ago you noticed the same man over and over, passing by each other with first polite smiles which morphed into a sort of anxiety feeling on your end noting how he began to linger around more obviously, far enough away to not seem suspicious to those around but definitely setting off an alarm in your head to stay alert.

It was a Friday night, after finishing up with your last minute shift due to a coworker calling out, you decided it was time to finally grocery shop, something that you've been putting off all week due to laziness but now you wished you opted to eat eggs for the third day in a row rather than be here. Typically, you and Yunjin went to the store together, but with her out on a date, that left you alone for the night.

"We're still cooking for dinner right? I'm at the store right now picking stuff up," You continue after meeting confused silence on the other end. Due to the increasing gut feeling and you desperate for someone to come to your aid in at least knowing where you were if you did end up missing and on the news, you called the only person you knew in the area that would come. Jay Park, an extended family friend that you practically grew up attached to each others hips, had followed you along to the same Uni two years ago. With a three hour car ride being the distance to your home town, you and Jay depended on each other as a sort of familiarity and unspoken acknowledgment that there was support for one another.

University created a sort of distance in your relationship, both studying different majors and finding your own friend groups outside of one another but you still talked every other day through text and hung out occasionally. Jay, being a well know frat boy around campus, became a sort of gossip topic of him and his other frat members. His admittedly attractive looks that he grew into helping with his popularity along with his love for the party scene.

You on the other hand, were a home body more than anything. After your first year, you had moved into an apartment about 5 minutes away off-campus with your previous dorm-mate and newly founded best friend. You and Yunjin became close relatively fast and being able to get through freshmen year living together in the tiny space meant you'd work perfectly well moving in a place where you both got your own rooms and a private bathroom.

Thus, your routine consisted of lectures, homework, your part-time job, and sleep. It was quiet and comfortable. Not that you were opposed to a night out and getting drunk off your ass every once in a while but being a party girl didn't seem like your cup of tea to do every weekend.

"Sorry, ___ it's Jake. I don't know where Jay is, he just left his phone with me earlier," Jake speaks into the phone, making his way out of the booming house to better hear her. The muffled music and loud voices heard from his end causing a slight panic to rise in your stomach but also nearly face palm. It's a Friday night, of course he was partying.

You rake your brain to put a face to the name. You've met Jay's frat friends on occasion, though they mostly consisted of when you were all drunk so it was sort of a blur.

"Yeah I'm at Target," You nod, specifying your location and hoping that whoever Jake was, he was sober enough to comprehend that something was wrong and that he'd remember your words. "Do you want anything else specifically?" From the corner of your eye, you can see the man beginning to pace, seemingly growing antsy with waiting on you to move. Deciding it was best to make your way toward the front where more workers would be, you completely disregard your near empty cart and pushed it along while holding your phone to your ear.

"... Are you okay?" Jake inquires, his brows burrowed together in confusion but feeling the underlying feeling of the call. The only reason he answered was because he knew you and Jay were close, having met less than a handful of times but the contact picture Jay saved you under allowed him to remember who you were. The three spammed messages you sent prior to your call being unable to be read due to his phone being locked. He intended to only inform you of the reason the said boy wouldn't respond for a while but it ended up to this rather weird conversation.

"Uh... no I don't think so," You answer, acting as if you were responding to a question. Jake straightens up slightly, unaware if that was an actual answer or if you were still on the one sided random talk through the phone. He sort of hoped it was the second option for your sake. "Okay I'll look. I'm sure they have pineapple,"

Jay was an overprotective guy, especially when it came to those he cared about. Early on, whenever they'd go out, he told everyone that their emergency code word was pineapple. Jake, along with the other boys, found it utterly ridiculous and never once had to actually use it but he did remember the word loud and clear even months later. The conversation was far too random and specific for you to just casually be saying that, and thus Jake assumed the safe word was something Jay used universally.

"You're at the store in town right?" He asks, now heading back into the house, weaving his way through the bodies in search of his friends.

"Yeah," You nod disregarding that he couldn't see it. There was two Targets in the area you lived it, though one was undeniably farther away from the University. In town referred to the one you stood in, absentmindedly staring at the electronics assuming there had to be more cameras in this area. "Okay, well, I'll be home soon then,"

"Give me ten minutes," Jake said into the phone before handing up the call, not giving you time to respond. Scrunching up your nose, you felt significantly smaller without the comfort of another voice on the other line. From the opposite isle, you could see the man lingering around the corner, now staring directly at you but quickly looking away upon making eye contact.

With a slight pit in your stomach, you take a second to breathe. Attempting to seem inconspicuous, you glance over your items and visibly pale. The only things consisted of body wash, a bag of lemons, and ice cream bars that were now melting. You had circled the food department a near three times and hadn't picked up much even though you made it rather clear on the call you were meant to be getting dinner. Silently praying that the man wasn't keen enough to pay that much attention, you shake off the shiver that ran down your spine.

Meanwhile, Jake ran through the house collecting his friends one by one. Luckily, with it being only 7:30 and rather early in the night, no one was near hammered yet, barely started on a buzz when he interrupted. Not much was shared in the process, the urgent way Jake pulled them along was enough for them to follow but Heeseung finally questioned it once they were packed in the car driving away from their own party.

"Where we going man?" The eldest asked, running a hand through his hair lazily.

Jake, being the only one with less than half a bottle of beer in, was in the driver seat. He drove fast, weaving through the lanes occasionally but still safe enough to not seem suspicious.

He glanced back at Jay through the rearview mirror, said boy tilting his head back in confusion. "___ called you, she's having an issue. Said something about pineapple and wasn't having an actual conversation with me so I'm assuming someone was following her,"

Jay straightened up, leaning closer from his seat while the other two spared glances. "When?"

"Right before I went to find you, told her to give me 10 minutes," Jake answers, partially relieved that Jay seemed concerned by the matter meaning he interpreted the call correctly but that only meant you were actually in trouble. "It's been 6,"

"Drive faster," Was all the other boy said, the few shots of liquor seemingly gone as he sobered up almost instantly. Though, the panic and overwhelming anger that brewed in the back of his head indicated that he was being influenced by the intoxication. Not that it would be a problem, especially if you were in danger of some sort.

Heeseung and Sunghoon sat quietly as Jake drove, connecting the dots for themselves due to the conversation. A minute later, the four were barreling out of the car and into the building. The bright lights contrasted against the dark outside, the boys looking around for sight of the girl.

"Give me my phone," Jay tells Jake, holding out his hand expectantly while he pulls it out of his back pocket. Tapping through the screen for a moment, Jay hold up the device to his ear waiting for you to answer but it goes to voicemail.

"She was talking about food so maybe she was over there?" Jake offers, leading the way toward the back of the store which held all the groceries.

Jay tries once more, holding the phone up as it dials. This time, there's the faint chime of an incoming call that was further away. Sunghoon nodded in the direction it came from, heading toward the area which consisted of books, music, and other miscellaneous things.

"No, thank you, I'm alright," Your voice was recognized first by Jay. Speeding up his steps, he rounds the corner to see you backed away toward the far end of the isle, the cart in between you and an unfamiliar man who had his back toward the four. Your eyes widened seeing the familiar face, slightly relieved but still in a sense of panic considering the man that was following you grew the courage a minute ago to actually say something now, keeping you tucked away in the corner as he did.

Attempting to step away, you shift to the right but the man matched your movement, staying directly in your path and blocking it. Moving to your left, he matched that as well causing you to purse your lips. He smiled, seeming as if it were amusing to see you becoming undone with his actions which sent a chill up your spine. Aside from his creepy stalking, he seemed and looked like a regular guy, which made it even worse because of how normal he seemed upon first glance.

"Teenie," Jay spoke up, making his and the rest of their presence known, using a nickname rather than your actual one. The guy turned at the sound, his face morphing from the smile into one of annoyance, a  clear grimace on his features at the interruption. "Come here," The space between where you stood and Jay was a couple of feet, having to go around the man in the process as he had backed you into the wall moments ago.

Expecting for him to allow you to move without resistance this time, you go to step around him but he still continues to block your way. Going as far as grabbing hold of your arm causing your eyes to widen and pull back instantly. The anxiety that grew in your stomach elevated significantly, it was wishful thinking that having four grown and tall men would have the single one back down but it seemed he was crazy enough to not care about that.

"Stop being a fucking creep dude," Heeseung spoke up, growing rather frustrated and particularly peeved that he had the audacity to grab you. If they hadn't shown up he couldn't imagine what he'd attempt.

"We're not done talking," The man sneers, the tone of his voice causing the hairs on your neck to stand up, goosebumps forming along your skin though your body felt like it was burning up inside. "You the boyfriend?" He adds, nodding toward Jay who faltered, confused by the sudden question.

Jake lets out a small sigh, growing tired of the back and forth. Stepping forward, he holds out his hand to you without a word. Now a mere foot apart, he stares down the guy, almost taunting him in attempt to do something. Quickly, your hand latches onto his, albeit clammy from your nervousness but as he pulled you into his side, you felt significantly safer than before.

Tucking you behind him, Jake walks you both back a few steps, returning to the rest who had moved up closer. Still holding tight onto Jake's hand, you grasp onto his arm as well, holding it as if it were a security blanket and would make everything better.

"I am," Jake answers, taking the rest of you by surprise. His fib was believable, you clinging to his side playing the part and the boys merely went along with it. "We done here?"

The man didn't say a word, the silent stare down that occurred between Jake and him more than enough. Finally, he looked away, accepting there wasn't anything he could do to win in this. Whatever that was. Turning around, Jake began to lead you away, not bothering to look back as the other three followed behind, ensuring he stayed in place as they went.

You let out a shakey sigh, deeming it far enough away as you could see the exit. Feeling the ever-growing tears weld in your eyes, a few began to slip from the corners painting soft streaks down the apples of your cheeks. Silently, Jake allowed for Jay to pull you into his embrace, presuming having the one you were closest with to comfort you would be best.

A quiet sob slipped past your lips upon being wrapped into his arms. Jay let out a small shush, one of his hands rubbing small circles with his thumb against your back, visibly upset by how affected you were as he tucked his head down toward your ear, whispering words of reassurance that everything was okay and nothing would happen.

Heeseung tapped Jake's shoulder, nodding him along to give the two of you a minimal amount of space but also linger close enough in case the crazed man decided to have second thoughts and come back. Meanwhile, Sunghoon had made his way over to one of the cashiers, explaining the situation and how the female staff should be cautious until security had eyes on the man.

Jake glanced over as Jay had pulled back from the hug, his hands on either side of your face as he wiped away the tears that kept falling from your eyes. His heart tugged at the sight of you, looking utterly disheartened with a slightly red nose and your mascara beginning to smudge.

He's glad he answered.

#jake #jake sim #sim jaeyun #enhypen #jaeyun x reader #enhypen jake #smut #jaeyun smut #IM SO EXCITED THIS IS FUN

[harrieatthemet]

Vulnerable

in which Harry’s sensitive and you’re completely undressed. 

He’d prefer if you stayed. 

It’s his ideal perception of comfort; the warmth oozing from the usually unoccupied side of his bed, a faded essence of vanilla perfume tied in with a bit of rose oil shampoo, the amenity of another body lethargically intertwined with his. 

Bouncing back and forth between one place to another, one city to the next; it’s inconsistent. And for a while, inconsistency worked. He had nestled himself comfortably into the odd routine of inconsistency. That’s what the bulk of his foundation in larger areas of life was built off of, and you were no exception. 

“Casual,” and he used the word exactly months ago, “let’s keep it casual.”

He knows what happens when he puts his hand to the flame; he gets burned. He’s learned that lesson the hard way once. And again after that, and once or twice more after that. Casual meant there wasn’t any real need for consistency. Keeping a relationship with you as casual as possible seemed like the best fit; one that made sense. 

At least, back then it did. All that coming and going, late night text messages, sporadic sleepovers after over indulging on wine and really shitty romantic comedies, it became consistent. 2 minute phone calls every now and then turned into one, sometimes two hours at least once a day. He’s caught himself checking his phone so that he doesn’t miss a text. He’s not used to consistent. This, however, is the type of consistency he’s becoming quite fond of. 

“5 more minutes,” he’s barely gotten his eyes open but his hands are awake, pulling you a little closer to him, “s’all we need, yeah? Just 5.. maybe 10.” 

There’s a content flutter purring in his chest when you hum in response, your body readjusting as he slinks an arm over your waist. He’s not ready to draw the blinds yet. There’s a straggling strip of outside light that's fighting it’s way through the gap in the drapes. It’s got to be well into the afternoon by now, but he doesn’t wanna check his phone to confirm. Instead he just pulls you closer; he’d rather stay here, like this, instead. 

“Mm,” the scruff from his chin brushes up against the back of your neck when you hum, “I wish I could.” 

“Don’t wish,” he giggles, “just do.”

He frowns when he feels you peel your body away, a small gust of cool air hitting his bare stomach when you tussle the sheets off and sit up. And he watches forlornly from his spot; admiring the way he his shirt hangs on you. 

“I can’t,” you’re whine is playful as you snatch your pants up from the floor, “I’ve got a thing.”

“A thing?”

“Mhm,” you assure, “a date thing.” 

It’s like a punch to the gut. The words coming out of your mouth put a bad taste in his. He doesn’t even wanna talk about it beyond this point. Ignorance really is bliss, but the curiosity will eat away at him if he doesn’t try to dig a little deeper. 

“Been seein’ him long?” He’s glad your back is to him because you can’t see the worry in his face. 

“Oh yeah,” that’s one more punch to the gut; he was hoping you’d say no, “we’re getting married on our date tonight.” 

“What??”

“Harry,” your laugh is muffled as you tug your shirt over your head, “m’fucking with you.” 

His shoulders drop a bit before he sits up in the bed. Watching you get dressed has always been one of those things he enjoyed; teasing you about outfit choices, making remarks about how he should take it all off again. 90% of the time he actually does end up taking everything off again. But this time just fucking sucks. You’re not getting dressed to go back to your place; you’re getting dressed to go back to someone else’s place. At least, that’s where his mind is taking him. 

You’ve still got him all over you; a little bit surely still lingering inside of you. This no-named competitor might get to touch you like he did just minutes ago. He wonders if he knows all your best spots, whisper in your ear, hold you while you sleep. Is he gonna kiss you the way you like, run fingers down your spine until you hum in content. Can this guy please you like he can? Does he know that the the little indent above your right knee is from when you fell off your bike as a kid? Does he know you sleep with two pillows and not one? You can’t sleep with one pillow; Harry always keeps an extra one freshly fluffed for you when you spend the night. Which, evidently enough, has become more frequent than not. 

“So deep in thought, eh?” You tease, “What’s going on up there?” 

He smirks briefly when you extend your pointer finger towards his head, swirling it around as though you’re mimicking his jumbled thoughts. He’s got no right to pry. After all, the groundwork of the terms regarding the dynamic between the two of you were his idea. God is he regretting that now. The idea of another man knowing you at all makes his stomach hurt, let alone knowing you the way he does. 

“Oh m’not,” he shrugs, idle hands twirling the loose sheet on his bed, “s’nothing.” 

“Going once.. going twice.. give me something, Har.” 

With your hands on your hips; expression playful, eyebrow cocked and breath baited in anticipation, he’s realizing that now might be better than ever to speak up. The answer to every unasked question is no, after all. 

His mind is racing with the worst of thoughts. He doesn’t want you to leave at all. Especially if you leave now to meet with the embrace of any other man except him. It’s not a possessive thing. Part of what makes him so feral and drawn to you is how open and genuine you are with the everyone you know. 

“This guy,” he trails, “I mean- like is this a date?”

“You writing a book or something?” You chuckle. 

“No.” 

He knows that was a joke. It wasn’t his intention to answer so seriously and he wishes so badly he could take that knee jerk reaction back. The look on your face falls and so does his heart; right into his fucking stomach. The energy of the once playful banter is ripped right out from beneath the both of you and now it’s just uncomfortable. 

“Yeah..” Your tone wanders as you look for your socks, “3rd one, I’m pretty sure. Why?”

There’s about an infinite amount of ways he could match that question. One of them being just high pitched screaming from frustration. Not even with any words, just endless agonizing groaning on a loop. Christ, the thought of it all just makes him want to melt into the mattress and become nothing. In theory he should’ve just kept his mouth shut and suffered in silence while he waited for the next time you texted or called. But he’s dug himself so deep playing 50 questions with you that there’s no point in retreating. He’s doubling down now; all or nothing. 

“Know him well?” He spits out. 

“Well enough.. still getting to know him a bit.” 

“S’good,” he feels it coming, the word vomit and he just can’t stop it from pooling on his tongue, “knows you like I know you?” 

If he was religious he’d start praying to God, any one of them, that you answer with a firm no. How could anyone know you like Harry knows you? He’s convinced that it isn’t possible. This morning, when he was wrapped up with you in a fresh set of linens sheets, he’d be so sure that nobody else had intimate access to you like he does; sexually and emotionally. Right now though, he’s starting to do something he seldom does; second guess himself. Maybe he was naive to be so sure before. 

“Not gonna put all my cards on the table just yet,” oh how badly he feels like dying when you talk all confused like that at him, “but yeah. I mean, I guess.” 

You think of how silly that question is. Why would he ask that? Everyone you know gets the same version of you; honest, open, and real easy going. You’re an open book and your relationships are all reflective of that. You are who you are, proudly and comfortably. So yes, of course he does. 

And all he’s thinking is how desperately he wants to rewind to 15 minutes ago when he wasn't the only naked person in the room. He just wants you to get back in bed; stay with him a little bit until he feels like the only one again. Turmoil and anger coincide with one another as it bubbles in his stomach, metastasizing before it becomes so unavoidable that he can feel it in the pit of his throat.

“Hm,” the sarcasm and bitterness in his tone is so goddamn thick, “lucky him than, yeah? Have fun, m’s real happy fo’ you.”

“Ok...” and he can tell by your voice that you’re offended, “I’d say thank you but that felt more like an insult.” 

Your jeans still aren’t buttoned and now that you’ve slid your shirt back on, he notices that your arms are folded over your chest as well. He doesn’t like the look on your face. It’s like you’re accusing him of something. And he really doesn’t like that the shirt you slept in, his shirt, is in a ball at the foot of his bed. 

“Can take it however y’want,” he answers flatly, “not sure how that’s my problem.” 

“Well what is your fucking problem?” 

You’ve never taken that tone with him before. In fact, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen you this cross before in general. He knows for sure you’ve never been this cross with him. It’s frustrating that you’re lagging in an attempt to catch up to the very obvious point he’s trying to make. The only easier route to take would be to flat out tell you how he’s completely hooked on you. He doesn’t want to do that though, not right now. 

What’s his problem? Are you genuinely that dense? Oblivious? His problem is you and how, against all odds, have become a crucial influence on whether or not he’s having a good day. His problem is if he doesn’t hear from you after a while, he gets grumpy. He hates waking up and rolling over to the left side of his bed made up and untouched. That’s where he wants you to be sleeping. All the time. 

His problem is you’re leaving to be with someone that isn't him.

“He knows you like I do?” he reiterates, “Fat fuckin chance.” 

“Harry you of all people know that I’m-”

“Shy?” he’s talking over you now because he’s completely lost all motor control between his mouth and his brain, “I know y’shy. Know that y’do tha’ little thing with y’lip, when you’re reading or real focused on something. Y’hum in the shower and, I never said this but it’s bloody fucking annoying sometimes ‘cos it’s off key. S’off key ‘n I almost like it.” 

You blinked; face flat and arms fallen to the side. All you could do was blink. And he wants to stop. God, he wants to stop talking so bad but this is your fault. You got him started so he has to keep going. 

“I know y’favorite pair of socks- those hideous fuzzy green ones with th’hole in ‘em.” 

He’s standing upright, now. How he got here, two feet planted on the ground with less distance between the two of you than two minutes ago; he’s not sure. There’s no specific expression on your face for him to pinpoint, so he considers edging himself a little closer towards where you’re standing. Until he’s right in front you, about to wave his white flag when he manages to break your blank stare and lock eyes

“Knows how y’like to be touched?” he’s brought his voice down a few octaves now, his index finger grazing over the undone button of your jeans, “knows.. how to get y’off? Like I do?” 

His eyelids are low, pupils blown as he peers down at you. A finger of his tucks away a stray piece of your hair before it embarks on a mindless journey; grazing your jaw before before he places it strategically under your chin. Then he lifts it. He’s giving you no choice but to look at him when he asks you. 

“Do y’wanna know him,” he sighs, “th’same way y’know me?”

#harry x y/n #harry one shot #harry imagine #harry drabble #harry fic #harry fanfiction #harry fanfic #harry writing #harry x reader #harry x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles drabble #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #harry styles x reader #dad!harry #harry smut #harry angst #harry fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff

[lilys0evil0twin]

I've been thinking fr an idea (take ur time no need to be real quick♥️) , mmh did u already do Nikola Tesla , Sfw or nsfw hcs ? Have an incredible day/night and take care of urself

Okay, okaaayyyyy, I see where ya coming from~~~

Let's go ya transformers looking workaholic

SFW

He nor you know how ya ended up in this relationship, not that you're complaining, it's just... He never thought of love life much less his own

Nikola is a kind man, tho he may act a little narcissistic, but he'd sacrifice his whole research for you.....

Ok maybe not whole but some projects for sure

He'd love to give you his outmost attention but it clashes with his work/hobby (or let's call it life), tho he's more than happy to include you in his activities

He really likes it when you help, just your presence is enough, plus hugging you really helps him figure out the parts he's stuck on

Just staring at the giant board covered in multiple physical theories and math problems while holding your oh so delicate body in his arms

Nikola knows multiple languages and will use them against you, he can express his love for you in all of them, all monologues ofc

He isn't one for using nicknames, however you are allowed to use some on him, he's opened to everything really from "babygirl" to "thunderbolt", but if you want him on his knees for you call him "Sir" or your "handsome husband"

He will melt, trust me he will, the first time he heard you call him Sir Tesla, he fell on his knees and hands mumbling something under his breath in Siberian, but judging by his tomato red neck and ears you assumed it was something positive

Nikola showers you in gifts, just because, he wants to give you gifts

And not just any gifts, he'll work on those gifts with everything he got, once he gave you a robotic dove after he saw you feeding a flock of pigeons

He also gives you metallic flowers, because 1. they'll stay pretty for a lot longer than real ones, and 2. no real flower is beautiful enough to be considered a gift for you

Tho if you tell him you want a real one, he'll apologize and will take to fields covered in forest flowers for picnic

Despite being a lil shy, Tesla isn't afraid to voice his desires at all, doesn't care if anyone can or can not hear him, he'll loudly and pridefully announce he wants to love you at the given moment

Or will offer his body to you at the dinner table with your parents.....

NSFW

Well sometimes he doesn't mean it literally, he's just straightfoward when it comes to stating facts

Tesla surprisingly knows how to Dan's pretty well and if you want to he'll put on your favorite song and dance the night away with you

Nikola has a great memory, he remembers everything, every date every friend of yours, every information you or someone else shared

And once again, he will use it against you

Tesla has some problems with workaholism so when you see he's pulling more hours/days than he should just drag him to bed and massage his back, he will groan

Nikola isn't really sexual, he's more lovey-dovey, hence the hugging and stealing kisses

Despite being so energetic and confident, Tesla tends to be more composed in bed

He'll follow your every wish and command, let's call him a gentle dom

Anything you may do in bed could inspire him, once he came up with a whole ass equation... And yes he needed to write it down before it slipped his mind

Tesla has a mathematical map of your body and remembers every spot that make you whimper

The exact place, how should he press/stimulate them, possibly the precise angle and force

Despite not being really erotic, Nikola has some interesting kinks

Yes

Fucking in the bed is taboo, however in his research lab? On the table? In his chair? Excusing yourselves from the event for a quicky in the hallway?

Being totally bare during sex is overated, but fully clothed? Exposing just the crucial parts?

Yes

Dry humping? Fingering? Eating out?? Bros a whole package

X-Ray👀

Nikola doesn't have a favorite position nor speed, but he mostly settles on slower sensual pace and he likes to stand but don't worry you don't have to he'll hold you up

Usually goes for multiple rounds when there's enough free time or if he's not tired from work

Long, long and thick

Perfectly waxed, there's not a single hair down there, only hair closest to his "lil" man is that line of light brown hair down his belly

The skin is as smooth as it can get

The tip is #F1B6AC

I like to think Tesla has circumcision🤔

Has a beauty mark near the base

Somewhere near his balls there's this small ring of muscle that creates a bulge there, like there a literal ring

The veins are big and bulging

Balls are average sized, smooth and solf on touch

#shuumatsu no valkyrie #snv x reader #record of ragnarok #record of ragnarok smut #record of ragnarok x reader #x reader smut #ror nikola tesla #snv nikola tesla

[cyb3rscoups]

Baby daddy Chronicles (1)

A/N: Here is the link to the full collection

Baby Daddy Attuma Chronicles on Ao3

“So,” Attuma popped a fry in his mouth and leaned into the table. His twins giggled, mimicking his motions and leaning in with him.

In a hushed tone, he asked. “What’s new in mommy’s life? Hm?”

The girls giggled again, looking between each other before going back to their dad. “We think she has a boyfriend.”

Attuma choked, hacking up a fit of coughs at the information. His girls laughed heartily as their father was on the verge of death. “Boyfriend?!” He said once his throat was clear. “Who is he?”

“Mmm. She told us to call him Mr. W’Kabi.”

“Who the f-“ The man caught his words as he realized where he was and who he was talking to. “What does he do while he’s there hm? Do mommy and him talk a lot?”

“No daddy. They kiss a lot and I don’t like him.”

“Yeah me neither. When are you coming back daddy?”

“Soon, baby. Real soon.”

————

It took him about half an hour to finish eating with his kids and shove them off to his mom’s house while he took a trip to the house he once called his own.

A navy blue hellcat was parked pretty in the driveway.

“Mother fucker.” Attuma grumbled as he marched across the yard and pounded on the door. “Okoye!”

He didn’t let up on the wood, only growing rougher when she took longer to answer.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?! Where are my kids?!” Our kids, he thought. But her nagging was ignored as he looked into the house.

“Where is he?”

“You have no right to know who’s here.”

“You got that man around our children and in our house. It’s my right as much as yours.”

As he took a breath, he took in what she was wearing, or rather not wearing. Just a silk robe, wrapped around her frame and leaving nothing to imagination. It made his blood boil.

“Oh so you hand the kids over so you can fuck him huh.”

“Fuck you Attuma!”

“I wish you would.” He stepped forward, welcoming himself through the threshold.

“Back the hell up.”

“I don’t see you making a move.” Attuma shrugged as they stood with no space between their bodies. His was hot, she could feel the heat radiating off of him as she resisted the urge to touch him.

The tension was thick as Attuma towered over her and Okoye failed to keep herself composed. Damn him for having such an affect on her. “Put your clothes on, kick him out, let me in.”

“This is over Attuma.”

“Is it? Haven’t noticed.” His arm snaked around her waist as she shivered. “Come back to me. I’m sorry.”

“Attuma-“

The creaking of the steps caused the hair on her neck to stand and suddenly she was pushing him as far as her strength would allow.

Before Attuma could invade her space again, W’Kabi came down the stairs. He was similarly bare, just a pair of jeans over his hips.

“Who’s this?” He questioned, looking between Attuma and Okoye.

“This is my ex. Father of the twins. He was just letting me know how they’ve been.” She lied through her teeth and nudged Attuma to go along with it.

“You couldn’t have called?” W’Kabi crossed his arms, giving Attuma the dirtiest look he could muster.

Attuma laughed, doubling over as he did it. He laughed for what seemed like an eternity before he spoke.

“This jackass? Really baby. Come on. If you’re gonna try to replace me at least do it with someone who could actually compete.”

“Get out, Attuma.” Okoye pushed him through the door slamming it shut behind him.

The man chuckled all the way back to his truck and waited there. It only took a minute before W’Kabi was following, getting into his car and driving away.

#alex livinalli #attuma #attoye #attoye fanfic #attuma x okoye #black panther #wakanda forever #danai gurira #mcu okoye #okoye x attuma #black panther wakanda forever #attuma smut #talokanil #attoye fluff

[bullet-prooflove]

Two Halves - Neron 'Creeper' Vargas x Reader

Tagging: @est1887 @anime-weeb-4-life @creativitybeware @mortal--soul @spaghettificationandpretzels @creativitybeware @corruptedcoffin @redpoodlern @oureternalbond  @rubes2323 @lexondeck @librarian1002 @thanossexual @justreblogginfics @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @perverteddreamss @adaydreamaway08

There is not a thing that Neron doesn’t love about you. He loves seeing you in his bed, laid out like a fucking dream, a patchwork of scars and tattoos that tell the story of your life. He takes his time to explore them, memorise them with his fingertips and tongue. He learns what makes your breath hitch, what makes you laugh, when to go harder, faster and when to slow it down.

He loves early mornings, hearing you bang around his kitchen trying to find shit. He loves the way you always greet him with a smile, that you are always happy to see him even when you’re distracted.

He loves the way you draw roses, and daisies and sunflowers when you're thinking, doodling different variations of the flowers over and over again until find a solution to the problem you’ve been tackling in your head. He collects each of the napkins you draw on and puts them away in a shoebox at the top of the wardrobe where he keeps his precious things. When you’re not around and he’s feels the darkness starting to creep in, he gets them out and he looks at them, tracing his fingers over each of the designs because they're beautiful and sometimes he needs a reminder that there’s light in the world.

He loves the fact you sing in the shower despite the fact you’re terrible. You’re bold and loud and have no fucking shame and he adores it. You laugh when he joins in, his arms wrapping around your naked form as the heated water rains down on the two of you. After a few minutes the singing usually stops because you’re both too pre-occupied with other things.

He loves the way you hold him at night, his head tucked under you chin so he can hear your heartbeat in your chest. It’s a comforting sound in the depths of the darkness, the press of your bare skin against his as you kiss the top of his head. Sometimes you tell him that you’re terrified this is all a dream, that one morning you’ll wake up to find yourself alone. He kisses away those doubts, his thumb ghosting over the line of your jaw as he reassures you that he’s real, that what the two of you have is everything to him and he’s never going to vanish from your side.

He loves the fact you don’t judge him for his mistakes, the past or the present. He doesn’t want to scare you off, to burst this perfect bubble that the two of you have created. It’s impossible you tell him, to get everything right the first time. You’re both human, you’re both learning to love again, so long as you're open with each other and honest you’ll work through it. He finds being with you surprisingly easy. He was on his own for a long time, his only intimacies transactional, to find someone that actually cares for him and not what they can get from him is a blessing.

You fit into his life as if you were always meant to be there. He enjoys cooking for you while you draw up designs for your customers on the kitchen table. He loves the expression on your face as you focus on the flow of the design, the flourish of it. Your brows furrow when you concentrate, you pout just a little when things get tricky and it is the cutest fucking thing.

He calls you Nena.

It means babe, the only term of endearment he knows with his mix of Spanglish.

He loves the way you eat ice cream on the couch, spoon pressed against your lips as the two of you curl up under a blanket and watch ‘Escape to the Chateau’. He does not understand how it became his favourite show, only that he loves how fucking judgemental you get when someone starts to try preserving antique glass by bashing the frame around it with a hammer.

He loves the way you give without an expectation of return. To him, your business, to the kids at the community centre. Sometimes he worries you’ll have nothing left for yourself. He tries to speak to you about it, about overstretching yourself but there’s no stopping you. You’re a force of nature, a relentless storm trying to do everything you can to ease the burden of those around you.

When it all gets too much he’s there, a port in the middle of a restless ocean because you are only one woman, and you can only do so much. The thing about Neron is he grounds you; he keeps you on your feet when the realities of the world are too harsh to deal with, he never says ‘I told you so’. He’s always there, holding you up, supporting you and despite how fiercely independent you are, you need it. You need him. You’re cut from the same cloth you and him, two halves of the same soul.

Love Creeper? Get added to his tag list!

Want more Neron? Check out his Masterlist here!

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#creeper vargas #neron creeper vargas #creeper #neron vargas #neron vargas x reader #neron vargas x you #neron creeper vargas x reader #neron creeper vargas x you #mayans fx #mayans mc #mayans #creeper x you #creeper x reader #creeper mayans

[hyunnieshannie]

Too Drunk For This | Y.J

Pairing: Yang Jeongin x Reader Word Count: 10,655 Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, mutual pining, there's not much going on but consent is implied for the things that DO happen. PDA. THERE IS PDA. (kissing, public area my bad... but i'll fokn do it again) A/N: I wrote this during a break from my EX series, because man am I on a writers block to end one of the chapters, but I think this helped and It will be coming soon I swear so pls accept this little Jeongin fic as a peace offering dfgvbskjbg

And just like that, everything you had built up came crumbling down. Every wall you had built up was being torn away by the wrecking ball that was Yang Jeongin. 

The night had started off fine, your friend Momo had begged you to join her at a party she barely wanted to go to, and after asking a million and one times why not just stay in instead; you had been thoroughly convinced that a party would be just what the two of you needed. 

A break from the studying, and pain in the ass that was college life. 

“I still don’t get why we’re here.” you complained as the two of you walked up the steps of the home the party was being hosted in, the music blaring through the closed door; only to be made louder as you made your way inside. “You didn’t even want to come.” 

“I know but,-” she paused as someone caught her eye, and it hit you. The real reason she pulled herself out of the dorm room to venture out into an unforgiving territory. 

College parties are fun, but they are (in your mind) truly unforgiving. One mistake, one little thing to embarrass yourself and the entire campus will know before you even have a chance to wake up and process the excruciating pain of a hangover migraine. 

“Got it,” you huff as the two of you push past the crowd of people all mingling, dancing, and clearly drunk out of their minds; all letting themselves forget that it's a Thursday night and you all have classes in the morning, because whoever had the bright idea to host a rager on a weekday clearly had the right idea in most people's eyes because FUCK exams right? 

You had made the conscious decision not to drink tonight, because you truly didn’t want to attend tomorrow morning's lecture with a killer headache, unable to eat, and feeling like death incarnated. So instead you followed Momo around as she said hello to all her classmates, ones you barely knew. 

You and Momo may be friends, but you don’t share the same major. While she focused on the dramatic arts, you focused on architectural design. Most of the people attending this party happened to be in the arts and so you felt mostly left out. 

“Y/N?” a voice sounds from behind you, you turn to see your classmate walking towards you with a wide grin plastered on his face, “Y/N what are you doing here,” he laughed,

“Oh I came with- '' you turned to point out Momo who had disappeared in the three seconds it took to acknowledge Jeongin. “Momo, but it seems I may have lost her.” Jeongin let out a laugh as you looked around the room, trying your hardest to find your friend. 

“Makes sense, you don’t really seem like the party type of person,” he smirks as he takes a drink from his cup. In all honesty, you aren’t a party person. Big crowds of people isn’t really your thing, and you’d much rather have a few drinks at home with a few of your close friends around. One it’s just more fun to have people you trust around you while you’re drunk, and two it lessens the risk of anything going wrong, but Jeongin didn’t need to know that. 

“Bold of you to assume I don’t like parties.” you scoff. It was a mistake saying that, and you knew that clearly as the smirk returned to Jeongin’s face only this time, with a hint of mischief in it. Within a split second the boy had your wrist in his hand, as he dragged you through the home and to the kitchen, smiling as he pushed a bottle of soju your way. 

“Prove it. Y/L/N,” 

“I don’t have to prove anything to you Yang Jeongin.” you rolled your eyes, ready to walk away. You weren’t drinking tonight. 

Until you were.

 Six shots in and laughing loudly as Jeongin entertained you, pouring the both of you another one.  

“Seriously Y/N, I didn’t think you’d actually give in,” he laughs, “You looked like you were going to punch me earlier,” you quickly take back your shot, the taste of the soju had begun to ease from the harsh perfumy alcohol to an easily taken sweet drink. Your mind was hazing, and the room spinning, but yet everything was warm and Jeongin was funnier now that you’d had more to drink. Of course you’d always thought of him as funny, and maybe kind of cute. But you never really spoke to him until now. Maybe in passing a few times during one of your shared classes but you never spent time with him outside of class. So when he took your hand and dragged you outside to the backyard to sit and talk, it took you a bit by surprise. Sure there was an initial shock of him dragging you to drink with him, but you’d assumed it was because it was only the two of you from your major at this party, so you just thought he wanted some sort of familiarity. 

Until every person that came through the kitchen stopped to say hi to him, and he’d have to introduce you to them. 

Everyone knows Jeongin. 

Jeongin sat beside you as the two of you spoke about yourselves, getting to know one another outside your class. It was weird talking to him for something other than a project or homework, but it was nice. The alcohol giving both of you the boost of confidence to speak to one another, because despite barely knowing him you couldn’t deny he was good looking, easy to speak to and of course funny. You couldn’t help but have a small crush on him, even though he’d probably never think of you in that way. 

Except he did. 

The moment Jeongin had seen you at the party, his mind already hazed from the drinks he’d already had, he knew it was his chance to try and get to know you. He wanted to know the person he’d catch himself staring at in the middle of a lecture, the person who sat in the row in front of him. The person who’s designs would surely make the next big thing in the architectural world. He was fascinated by you.

You didn’t often speak to a lot of people, and mostly kept to the few friends you already had. You did your work quietly, and diligently. You were passionate about the subject and he truly admired it. Though he had only found a few excuses to talk to you, by using the class assignments; he knew in the first few interactions he needed to know more. And so when you walked in, and decided to drink with him, he took that chance to try and get to know you better. 

He listened as you spoke about yourself, about your interests and dislikes; and he couldn’t help but think to himself I’m fucked. Because he was truly and deeply starting to fall for you. It wasn’t his fault you were so god damn smart, and it wasn’t his fault you always looked so fucking good. How was anyone expected to not have some sort of crush on you when you walked around so confidently, so sure of yourself, so perfectly? 

He couldn’t help but let his thoughts wander as you spoke, your lips just looked so soft, and his eyes kept wandering to them, quickly snapping back up every time he realized he was staring. But you didn’t notice, he was still safe. But the alcohol kept pushing him, and pushing him. 

“Jeongin?” You asked as he shook his head, trying to clear his mind as if it worked like an etch-sketch. “You okay?” 

“Uh, yeah sorry. Just thinking about something, sorry.” His face burnt into a light pink blush, 

“What about?” he didn’t offer an answer, only stared at you, and down at your lips. 

“Fuck.” He breathed out, before cupping your face and softly kissing you. Is this okay? Fuck. I shouldn’t have done that. He thought as you pulled away, eyes softly fluttering back open as he looked at you, i’m about to get fucking slapped. He thought, as he mentally prepared for the inevitable. But you didn’t. You just looked at him, with softness in your eyes, as if you’d just been waiting for him to make some sort of move. “Sorry,” he whispered as he looked to his hands, fiddling with the cup he held. 

A minute of silence passed before he looked back up at you, still you looked at him with soft eyes. Maybe it was a bad idea, maybe it wasn’t but fuck did he want to do it again, but this time you beat him to it, closing the gap between the two of you kissing him softly, and almost needily. He set his cup down as gracefully as he could before turning a bit to be able to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you into him as much as he could without you literally being on top of him on the patio set outside the party. People opened the door only to close it when they saw the two of you but neither of you cared, both of you too distracted in the warmth of the other to even consider what you were doing and where. 

What started as a soft kiss quickly became a very heated makeout session, and you were ready to just get on him, let him have you in any way he wanted. But with the slightest move he pulled back, “Not here.” he mumbled as he grabbed your hand pulling you back into the house, bringing you into the closest washroom. Once the door was shut he was back on you kissing you like he’d never get the chance to again. You reached your hand up his shirt, as he shuddered at the sensation of your touch, as he pulled you tightly against his body. 

And just like that, everything you had built up came crumbling down.

Every wall you had built up was being torn away by the wrecking ball that was Yang Jeongin. You had spent most of your time in college so focused on just getting through it. After your first failed relationship, and then your second you’d decided that maybe just focusing on your work would do you better. Who needs a boyfriend when school life fucks you everyday right?

Wrong because what you felt, that need to be touched. And specifically by him, was taking over every cell within your body. Part of it may have been the fact that you were quite touch starved, the other part may have been the alcohol but everything felt right with him. He knew how to kiss you, where to touch to get the reaction he wanted out of you. As if he’d known your body for years and knew just exactly what it needed. 

“Fuck you don’t know how bad I’ve wanted to do this,” he sighs, kissing you harshly again. 

A knock on the bathroom door sends the both of you out of your heated daze, your makeup smudged, and lipstick staining his lips from the kiss. 

“Y/N?” Momo called from outside the door, “Hurry up I wanna go home,” she sighed, 

“Yeah coming!” you said shakily as Jeongin heald in a laugh, 

“Not yet, but I mean-” He joked, 

“Fuck, we are too drunk for this.” You sigh, Jeongin smiles running his hand through your hair before kissing you again, 

“We are,” he whispers, “So maybe next time.” he reaches for the door handle slowly opening it as you look to him, 

“You sure that’s not the alcohol talking?” you ask, 

“Not at all love.” he smiles before exiting, leaving you there to wonder what ‘Next time’ meant. 

Your walk back to your dorm with Momo was a blur, both of you too drunk to really be walking home alone, but somehow you managed to make it home safely. Momo crashing on her bed as you took your severely messed up makeup off in the washroom. 

Your phone buzzes, and you quickly glance at it,

Jeongin; dinner? Sunday? With me… you know so I Can properly confess, and not in some washroom drunk at a random party?

#yang jeongin x reader #yang jeongin x y/n #yang jeongin x you #jeongin #skz x you #skz x stay #skz x reader #skz x y/n #yang jeongin fic #stray kids fic #stray kids jeongin #i.n x reader #i.n x you #stray kids x reader #stray kids #skz fluff #skz smut #stray kids IN #stray kids i.n #skz i.n #Yang Jeongin #skz jeongin #jeongin fluff

[legendzjagz]

Okay so I saw art on here the other day of Deku leaning over a casket with bakugou in it, in his hero uniform. And it inspired this fic. I wrote this in like an hour - it’s not edited, sorry.

FOUND THE ART - beautiful bkdk art by Bleedingivorydraws

You can also blame @z-mizcellaneous-z because we had a quick little idea abt a super angsty fic so they put me in the mood. *no worries bestie! I’m just joking around. I love you! /plat and I’m kinda thankful for getting this out!

Also, please get tissues ready when reading this cuz I fucking was sobbing writing it.

Still The Wonder Duo

“Remember when we were little and we had planned to become heroes together? We would play heroes all day long. You’d always wanna be All Might and you would let me be All Might too. It was nice when we would switch who was All Might. But even on days when I was All Might I still looked at you; still followed your lead. You were my hero even then. You were so overwhelming to watch, but I could never look away.

“I remember when we got our All Might trading cards too. I was so happy we’d gotten the same one. I knew we’d be together forever because that’s how little kids' brains work. We got the same card at the same time and it proved that destiny was real.”

Izuku sniffles and eyes shift to the card currently laying visible under black and orange gloved hands. Izuku’s own hands cover a majority of them and he can barely see the blood on the corner.

“Destiny is a bitch.” He whispers to himself and shakes his head trying to quell the still steady flowing tears down his cheeks. “You think you’ll get All Might to sign it wherever you both go? You know he will.”

Deku swallows tightly, lump in his throat, but he refuses to start sobbing. He needs to have clear enough eyes right now. Needs to keep soaking in blonde hair, the angles of pale skin, the new scar covering the right side of a face he’s known since they were children. Take in the sharp point of a nose and the curve of lips he’s only recently discovered the taste of; he reaches to cradle the cool sharp jaw of his childhood best friend in his palm. His other hand grips tightly to black and orange gloves, placed over a nonmoving stomach.

“We didn’t even get to go on a date yet.” He wishes red eyes would snap open at this confession and Kacchan would glare at him tightly and grumble: “all the good places got destroyed, shitty nerd. But let’s ditch these fuckers and i’lll make something back at the dorms before the extras show up and ruin it”.

Izuku would have laughed and used OFA to get them back to the dorms. They’d get to the kitchen and Kacchan would have him start cutting vegetables for whatever meal he’d make for him. And then yell at Deku when he didn’t like the cuts he’d make. He imagines Kacchan would wrap his arms around him, hands placed over his own to guide him in a demonstration of proper cutting and chopping techniques. And once Izuku would have completed his task he’d have sat on the counter next to the stove while Kacchan cooked for them - stealing as many kisses as he could. Then they’d move to eat at the island, ankles wrapped around the other. He’d try to steal Kacchan’s food, and they’d argue that it was the same food in each bowl. But Izuku would want Kacchan’s because Kacchan’s food was always better. He’d have those wonderful, bright, red eyes on him again. He’d have been happy just to see the intensity of Kacchan’s eyes bare into his soul for one last time. He would have -

“Kacchan - ” Izuku chokes on his next breath, because its a vision of a life they won’t have anymore. One he’ll never have again. Because the person he’s supposed to share his life with is lying before him in a casket. For someone so lively in life it's terrifying and wrong to see him so still. “Kacchan - “ He chokes again, chest tight and constricting. The tears are coming in stronger.

He rests his chin on his bicep. It’s an awkward angle, but he needs to be able to breathe in the caramel, smoke and sweat of Kacchan’s orange jacket without moving his eyes away from his face.

Izuku had been sitting outside the dorms with Kacchan, enjoying one of the last nights before they were sent out to fight. The late may nighttime air had turned chilly and Izuku had just about to suggest they head inside when Kacchan shucked off his favorite orange jacket and draped it over Izuku’s visibly shivering shoulders.

“But what about you?” He’d asked.

Kacchan had shrugged, “I run hot,”

Izuku hid a smile into the collar and breathed in deep. “Kacchan gave me his jacket.”

“Yeah, well,” He’d rolled his eyes, like it didn’t matter but Izuku could just make out a blush across Kacchan’s cheeks, “Don’t expect it everytime, Deku.”

“Okay.” He giggled into the coat.

Kacchan had rolled his eyes again, then lifted his nearest arm. Deku had taken the invitation and scooted the half a foot over to curl up into Kacchan’s chest.

“After all this is over, I’m going to date you so damn hard.”

“You can’t make dating into a competition, Kacchan?”

“Fucking watch me.”

“I already do.”

Kacchan had huffed in embarrassment, but Izuku knew he liked it. He shifted up in his hold and kissed what he could reach - the edge of Kacchan’s jaw. Kacchan of course didn’t think that was enough and had turned his head to press his lips firmly to Izuku’s. Izuku had felt like he was in heaven; the happiest he’d felt in a long time.

Now he’s struggling to find those kernels of happiness as the body under his hands remains cold.

“I wish giving you your jacket back would make you warm again. But I know your pride won’t let you take it back.”

Izuku stares at Katsuki Bakugou and studies his features till his breathing has returned to a relatively normal pace and the tears are no longer destroying his image of victory.

He doesn’t know how long he sits there.

But he knows it’s not long enough.

“Izuku,” A hand appears on his shoulder and Deku jumps and turns to look into a grey and blue eye. Shoto. Next to him stands Kirishima, his own red eyes - not the red that Izuku is desperate to see though - are filled with unshed tears. “It’s time to go, Izuku.”

Fear rises up quickly in his chest and he chokes once more on his breath, “What?” He turns to look at Kacchan, waiting to see an eyes roll and for him to tell them both to ‘fuck off’ till he was ready. But all that remains is a peacefully blank expression. “But… but…” He can feel the panic rise, “It hasn’t been long enough. We only just got here… we can’t…”

“Izuku,” Shoto squeezes his shoulder, “It’s been 5 hours.”

“NO.” Izuku shakes his head. He can’t look away from Kacchan. He has to be with him. Screw Kacchan’s pride, Izuku will walk with him till they get to his resting place. “No, it’s not time. I can’t leave him.”

“We have to go, Midobro.” Kirishima sniffles. “They have to take him back.”

“They can’t have him,” He growls and shoots his friends a glare so sharp he sees them take a tentative step back. Good. His eyes go back to Kacchan.

He hears shifting next to him, Shoto’s hands leave his shoulders; but he doesn’t look away. Trying to memorize blonde hair and how it sits just so, the way it felt to hold Kacchan’s cheek, the arch of eyebrows when doing something stupid, the way pink would tinge across his nose when Izuku would stare too long. He wants to see it now.

“Midoriya, It’s time to go.” A new voice says.

“No.”

“Midoriya, I will lift you out of here. Let’s not make a scene.”

“I don’t care. I can’t just leave him. He promised.”

“Promised what?”

Izuku can feel the tears welling up again, throat tightening and his words are voiced just above a whisper, “That we’d do this together. Side by side. He promised.”

“Okay, okay.” The new voice soothes, “He will always be with you. No matter what. He’ still with you, tied to your soul. So it’s okay to leave; because he has never left you.”

Izuku is surprised at the words and turns to look to his left to see Aizawa-sensei squatting near his knee. His eyes are red and not from quirk use. They shine like he just put eye drops in. “Sensei,” Izuku whispers.

“Come on, Midoriya. One more goodbye.”

Izuku gasps and turns back to Kacchan. Goodbye? No. no no no no no. he can’t say goodbye. It’s not time yet. They stil have so much they need to do.

He didn’t realize he was shaking his head and muttering until Aizawa places a hand on his knee, “You have to. It’s time.”

“NO!” He shouts. He can’t he can’t he can’t he can’t -

“We can do this the hard way or you can walk out of here on your own.”

He doesn’t remember what he answers, just tries to touch Kacchan one more time. Maybe he tried to wake him? Maybe he tried to kiss ice cold lips one last time. Tries to run his fingers through golden hair onc last time. But one second he’s sitting and the other he’s benign held tight to Aizawa’s chest and carried away from Kacchan.

“Kacchan!!” He screeches, tyring to see past Aizawa’s shoulder. “NO! No you can’t make me leave him! He can’t leave yet!!”

He tries to push away, but he’d been pretty week from the fighting and hadn’t been eating much since the final battle. He was weak. Kacchan would be so mad at him. Well he’s mad at him too.

“YOU PROMISED!” He yells, tears are flowing freely now, blurring his vision, “You fucking promised we do this together! You’re not allowed to leave me! You hear me! Please!!”

They’re getting further away, kacchan drifting farther away from him. He can make out other people on the edge of his peripheral; but they don’t matter. No else matter right now..

“Take me back! You can’t leave me! Kacchan please! Please please please! You’re mine they can’t have you!”

He cries and tries to escape Aizawa’s hold but his hold is too tight. Izuku gets one last glance at Kacchan’s bright blonde hair and fitted in his hero suit - looking as gorgeous as ever. As beautiful as he should be as Izuku’s symbol of victory. And then they turn a corner and he’s gone.

“NO!” He screeches once more, “Kacchan! Kacchan Kacchan Kacchan - “ He cries. He sobs. He can’t do this without him. It hurts without him. They were supposed to do this together.

“It’s going to be okay, Midoriya. It’s going to be okay.” Aizawa tries to soothe him.

“Kacchan - “ Izuku sobs into his Sensei’s shoulder. He can only say the name of his future. He thinks of what could have been. Sobs for the person who should be holding him currently. Sobs for his closest person. Sobs for a boy who was gone too soon; for a boy who was only just coming into himself.

Izuku passes out against Aizawa’s shoulder, Kacchan’s name on his lips.

#bkdk #bakudeku #bkdk fanfiction #mha chapter 362 spoilers #mha chapter 362 #mha fanfiction #bkdk fanfic #dkbk #dekubaku #katsuki bakugou #izuku midoryia #kacchan #deku #katsuki’s orange jacket #deku wearing katsuki’s orange jacket #unedited #please be nice #dead bakugou katsuki #Deku is suffering from grief #be nice to the boy #I sobbed writing this

[carnivorousyandeere]

What is the reader didn’t necessarily have a high sex drive but things went how you explained in the ask you answered earlier regarding Amory, but the reader couldn’t see herself staying with them because she wanted someone who felt attracted to her in that way and wanted to have sex with her as well? My OC definitely is more on the insecure side and has a past where she has felt unwanted and that includes sexually, so if someone she dated didn’t have an interest in sex with her she would have to leave

Darling Breaks Up With Amory Over His Asexuality

( MDNI )

CW: angst, manipulation, sabotage, mentions of sex, mentions of his past relationship, mentions of kisses of potentially dubious consent?

Info: gender neutral reader, no actual smut

You have every right to end a relationship that you don’t think will be satisfying to everyone involved! But, of course, Amory doesn’t agree… 😥

Amory is deeply hurt and angry when you break things off with him, citing a “need to be professional again.” But he knows the real reason. It hurts… he’d been open and honest with you, and instead of trying to work things out, you just… gave up.

He’ll act very understanding, and patient. He can afford to— there’s no danger of anybody stealing you from him, after all. If sexual attraction is what’s missing in your relationship, then Sarina will certainly not be a viable romantic option in your eyes. Anybody else, anybody human— is easily dealt with. Amory’s power of luck goes both ways; your own luck in even finding new dates sours quickly. Your dates’ luck, on the other hand, ends up even worse. A broken leg here, a car crash there, a horrible rare disease in the meantime…

Amory barely has to lift a finger, satisfied in the knowledge that there’s nobody else in the picture to steal you from him, and begins to plan for the future.

He’ll simply have to lie.

He wanted to be open, be honest, like Sarina always told him to back when they were together. Their past relationship pales in comparison to what he feels for you, but he’d wanted to do things the right way, in some way that a human would, for you… look where it got him. Serves me right for listening to that witch’s advice… he often finds himself thinking.

Now that he’s insured you remained isolated, he just has to wait— and throw in a few indications that he’s interested in sex with you now, right? Just… let his natural jealousy over the time you spend with others spiral into pinning you against the wall in a steamy kiss, then pulling away with an apology because you’re not together anymore… Smoldering looks up and down your body that you just happen to catch from the corner of your eye, that fade as soon as you turn your head.

With nobody else around, and with him leaving breadcrumbs of desire, Amory’s sure you’ll come back to him. He’ll give you the best angry, regretful, make-up post break-up sex of your fucking life, and he’ll initiate sex every fucking night if it makes you love him too and feel wanted.

He’s frighteningly good at acting— you’ll never know the difference. It really eats away at him on the inside, though, knowing you could never accept that facet of his true self.

#mail 📬 #hurt my own feelings a lil writing this dhdhsjja #oc amory #my thoughts #yandere #yandere oc #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere cw #mdni #nsft

[enid-rhees]

Dating Modern!Enid Rhee HDCNS (Fem!Reader)

warnings: nsfw mentions, weed mentions (18+ MINORS DNI)

(shhh ik the pics don’t really match)

Enid Rhee Masterlist

okay so

i’ve been so excited to do this

i kindaaaa project myself onto her but that’s just the way i am i’m sorry

okay enough of me let’s go

you and Enid are like . THE it couple btw

y’all are two hot gfs and u can’t change my mind

cafe dates are a MUST

u guys love cafe dates and go on one at least once (or twice) a week

i can honestly see you guys owning a cat . and that cat is your child

u guys don’t really want children so your cat is your child and you guys spoil them beyond belief

and i mean it like u guys basically take family photos with the cat ALL THE TIME

besides you guys spoiling the cat

you guys constantly spoil each other

especially YOU 🫵

you are always buying her new clothes, new jewelry, shoes

anything Enid wants is what Enid gets ‼️

she’s seriously the love of your life and you would do anything for her (and i mean anything)

fancy restaurant dates happen like twice a month

but mostly bc u guys prefer less fancy places but you still take her to them to spoil her w expensive wine and all

okay now please bare with me and my projecting

you guys love playing video games and Enid loves Fortnite you cannot change my mind

even thought you guys play in duos, yall get VERY competitive when it comes to shooting someone 😭

“NOOO I WAS GONNA GET THEM :(“

*cue one of you laughing as the other pouts*

you guys cook dinner together on the days that you don’t go out

honestly to me, cooking together is a great form of intimacy w ur partner so like i find it very cute and meaningful

going grocery shopping together is like leaving two unsupervised children in the store

because even though you do get real food for breakfast, lunch and dinners

you guys also get almost as much snacks as the real food

endless movie nights !!!

i can SO see you guys getting comfy in ur bed (with your hundred dollars worth of snacks) and watching movies together until 5am

every time a movie you wanna see is in theaters you guys go INSTANTLY

movie theater dates are one of your favorites, especially when you go on a random day in the middle of the day so no one is there and you guys get the whole room to yourself

ok i’m gonna project one more time

you guys are avid weed smokers

i mean you guys don’t do it ALL the time but occasionally you’ll get a few joints for the two of you to share

u guys love it honestly like it’s so chill and you guys just do ur everyday thing but a little bit stoned

but u guys crave snacks so bad when ur high

and that circles us back to buying so many snacks from the store

moving on from that though

both of you can get a little jealous when someone else is being too friendly, but you guys are also incredibly reassuring of one another

but both of you also know that you guys will be together forever, and literally nothing can get in the way of your love for each other

you guys ALWAYS show each other off on social media so everyone knows you guys are together

half of your IG posts are just each other

- NSFW -

oh boy

you guys own many, many toys let’s be real

and both of you are switches, sometimes Enid will dom the hell out of you and sometimes you do that to her

but oh my god

sex w Enid is amazing

because you guys always take the time to worship each others bodies during sex

she can be so gentle with you, kissing your neck softly and softly kneading the skin of your hips as she thrusts into you with her strap

scissoring is both of your favorite position BUT using a strap >>> the two of you cannot get enough of it

Enid also fucking loves eating you out

she could do it every night if you let her

you have

you on the other hand

you could go on for hours, all night and all morning just staying in between her thighs

you guys don’t explore many kinks but ooo does Enid love hair pulling

i actually don’t know if that’s a kink but like it’s hot so

Enid loves to leave marks on you, wether they’re hidden or visible for anyone to see

both of you are a littleeee possessive over the other

but not like crazily, but if anyone is being too friendly, you guys know how to get them to back off

jealous sex doesn’t happen often, but when it does

it’s just amazing

- nsfw ends -

so in conclusion

you and Enid are the best couple ever

a literal it couple

if yall were famous OOOO would everyone love you guys

but that’s for another time (maybe)

🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

#divider creds : cafekitsune #enid rhee #twd enid #enid twd #enid rhee x reader #enid rhee x fem!reader #the walking dead #twd #the walking dead x reader #twd x reader #the walking dead x fem!reader #twd x fem!reader #the walking dead headcanons #twd headcanons #enid rhee headcanons

[fastlikealambo]

link to chapter one.

link to chapter two.

Bloodsinger: Vampire! Eddie Munson x Black Reader Drabble Part 3/?

Summary:

Out of every news source in the country, the one and only lead singer of Corroded Coffin and self proclaimed vampire Eddie Munson has decided to do a sit down interview with The Hawkins Post. Instead of your boss, you’re sent to a mansion on Halloween Night and you’re in no way prepared for what’s in store.

Trigger Warnings: violence, gore, blood k!nk ,  a tinsy bit of cardiophilia if you squint, 80s workplace sexism

Inspired by: The Vampire Chronicles, Lost Boys, Vampire Diaries, Twilight, honestly every single vampire trope and cliche is in present and accounted for in this fic.

minors dni, I check.

i am in spain without the s, get ready for nonsensical lore and angst.

There’s a sharp caress on your neck that wakes you, cold hands holding you tight to their chest.

“Could you at least wait until I’ve had water before you go for seconds? I’m still not sure about all of this Eddie.”

There’s only silence in response and the hold on you grows tighter, painful even.

“Eddie? Eddie, that’s enough, you’re hurting me!”

“ Tell Edward I’m coming for him. Tell him I will rip this town and everyone in it apart until I get what I want, bloodsinger.”  A new voice murmurs in your ear, wiping away one of your tears before new unwelcome fangs sink into your neck.

“ He was right, you do taste good.”

This time you actually do wake up in midnight black satin sheets, feet elevated on a pillow. Bleary eyed and gasping for breath is how Eddie finds you, tray of food in hand but at your side immediately, pulling you close.

“What’s wrong?” 

“Eddie, there was somebody in my head, talking to me, touching me, biting me, it all felt so real. He said he was coming to Hawkins and going to kill everyone.” You explained, clutching at your neck but feeling nothing there.

Wide eyed, he lets you go, hands in his hair, that sadness fading right back.

“Eddie, what’s wrong? Who was that?” 

“ There’s something I need to show you.  But first, you need to eat.” He slides the tray full of food in front of you and takes your notepad and pen out of reach.

“Eddie!”

“ Eat and you can ask all the questions you want, baby. “

“ Still not your baby. You’re not going to give me my panties back are you?”

“What did I just say about questions?”

You grumble but eat as the rocker looks over the wound in your thigh, licking the small remnant of blood that came through the bandage. Your life could be in mortal peril and all you could think about was lying the fuck back down for round two.

“Ok, finished. What do you need to show me? “

“First, try not to scream.”

There’s not a chance to ask why before he takes you in his arms again, sneaking a kiss on your bare thigh before racing at a breakneck speed out of his bedroom (not fair, you didn’t even get a chance to look around) and down the stairs in front of the fireplace. 

“You wanted to know why you look like her, I think it’s time I tell you the truth.” He mutters and pulls on a book on the mantelpiece. There’s an audible click and the front of the fireplace swings open to reveal a dark room.

“It’s not as creepy as it looks, I promise.” Eddie said, setting you down with an uneasy smile before flipping a light switch. Light floods the room and to your somewhat relief, it’s not a room full of corpses.

It’s a room of you.

Portraits of you, each older than the next, stunningly crafted works of art that can only be made by the hands of someone in love.

“You painted all of these, didn’t you?”’

“Almost all of them, Leo wouldn’t shut up until he painted one.”

In the center of the room in a glass case is the exact thing that makes you scream.

A beating heart.

Yeah, that’ll do it, time to go.

He’s at the door before you can go running screaming out into the night.

“Wait! Before you go full torch and pitchfork it’s not any of their hearts. Please let me explain, I wouldn’t have shown you this if it wasn’t important, please just give me five minutes.”

“Two.”

“ A long time ago, one of my friend’s brothers went missing in our village. No one was really doing anything about it or listening to his mother so we decided to try and find him ourselves. What we found was a vampire who called himself Vecna who had been keeping the kid hostage.  Vecna wouldn’t let him go, he said he would rip our entire village apart to have him. And he did.”

“He killed your whole village?”

“Almost. We were just a bunch of kids trying to save our friend, we didn’t know what would happen, one thing led to another and my blood spilling on the ground made him stop in his tracks. So I made a trade: me in exchange for the child.”

“You gave yourself up? Just like that?”

 “The only reason Vecna let him go was because my blood sang to him. He nearly killed me but I managed to get away from him and that’s when I met her.” He points to the first portrait of you on the wall.

“She was just a girl from a neighboring village, funny and kind, a lot like you.  I thought all the bad things were behind me but Vecna found me. I managed to trick him into turning me so my blood would be useless to him but not before he ripped her to pieces. All she did was show me a little bit of kindness and I got her killed.”  He turned away from you, the rockstar facade finally melting away so there’s a tired man in front of you.

“I’m so sorry.”

“ There’s that little bit of kindness again.  Shall I keep going or are you ready to head for the hills?”

“ I’ll give you an extension on your time.”

“You might not like the ending.”

“I think that’s up to me to decide, thank you very much.”

“ Fine. I managed to overpower him and tore his body apart, scattering them all over the world but keeping his heart for myself. I didn’t know that he could do then, what older vampires could do until I saw your face, nearly a hundred years later.” He points to the next portrait.

“I made the mistake of thinking everything was over, that this was a sign from God or the universe that I could be fucking happy again. I told her everything like I’m telling you now and she loved me anyway.  Just like yours , her blood sang to me and I didn’t want to hurt her so we had a plan; on our wedding night I would make her like me.”

“Wait, there’s a vampire with my face running around?!”

He shook his head.

“ The day before our wedding, she heard a voice in her head that said horrible things about her, about her family. This voice showed her things that weren’t there and she was so distracted by it that she walked into the road. I tried to turn her but it didn’t take. She died, scared and in pain, but not before she whispered one word to me.”

“Vecna.”

“ Turns out even you dismember ancient vampire creatures, they can still fuck you over.  Even without a physical body, he placed a curse on me.  If he couldn’t have his bloodsinger,  I would never have mine. Every single time I got close to them, they died. Each time I thought I could break it but it never worked, nothing has ever worked. So, I stopped trying to find them, let whatever version of you that was out there in the world live a nice, non tragic life.  I found others like me, found my music, and just lived. “

“So what changed?” 

“ You.” He finally looks back at you.

“ Me? What do you mean, me?”

“My publicist wanted me to do some press, sent me a shit ton of newspapers with journalists to choose from. I saw your face on the staff page of The Hawkins Post and I thought I could just-”

It all makes sense now and you find yourself slowly backing away from him, shaking, a strange mixture of fear and anger coursing through your body.

“Oh Eddie, no.”

“ I just wanted to see if it was really true. I thought I could piss you off and you’d get the fuck away from me.  Then you were here, you were really right here in front of me, and I couldn’t help myself.” He reaches out for you but you shake your head.

“So you knew what was going to happen from the very beginning and you still did it?  I heard him in my head Eddie, I heard Vecna! Jesus Christ, how long do I have?”

“It could be different this time. I can protect you, just please don’t leave.” He’s crying now, eyes wild and desperate looking from the portraits and back at you.

You do the thing you should have done the first time, you run.

You were right the first time, that room was a tomb.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x black!reader #eddie munson x yn #vampire eddie munson