#define rude boy

[backbitches]

madison montgomery & damon salvatore aesthetic. ( ft. @hestroll )

been sleeping over for the past couple of weeks making a habit out of it, yeah when I woke up, I saw your toothbrush on the sink it kinda scared me, I'll admit if there's a line, then I think that we crossed it second time you stayed the night if there's a cool, then I think that I lost it and I should take my own advice

#hestroll #come on rude boy | damon salvatore ( hestroll. ) #our defining trait is numbness ( aesthetics. ) #you're a nameless day player in my eternal suffering ( answered. )

[shotorozu]

(gender neutral reader, reader went to middle school with bakugou and midoriya, reader can make chocolate, and reader bent their back for the making of said chocolate, not that much beta read /derogatory, i got carried away 😭)

bakugou katsuki is a feared, but admired guy— especially during valentines day.

it’s interesting.. when he was a younger boy— he’d take gifts from admirers (usually girl classmates or other kids that frequent the park he goes to) with widened eyes and a scoff, snatching the gift away from them with quick hands, and mumbling how valentines day is stupid— that it’s lame and he doesn’t understand it.

but refusing gifts are rude, he’d remember his mom say, after he refused to accept something his dad made for him— and back then, he’d listen to his mom like his life depended on it. so, for a year or two— he’d take gifts.

but as the blond boy manifested a quirk and became just a bit older— he started ignoring her words altogether, having had grown out of the “listening to mom all the time is cool” phase.

his features started defining themselves, and he was starting to become taller. before he knew it— he had a sudden wave of admirers crashing down at him almost everyday of the year.

and it almost excluding valentines day.

because he’d sneer at anyone willing to offer their affection in the form of sweetened confectionary, and resorted to blowing up love letters into smithereens.

if his personality wasn’t obvious enough, this was precisely the reason why his admire-from-afar to get-personal ratio was obviously imbalanced.

of course, no one really learns— even as he grows older, enters UA for highschool, and retains his personality even after some realizations, because bakugou katsuki is quite beautiful.

so there’s at least a handful of admirers that are willing to risk it all— even if it meant some form of humilation or intimidation.

but not you.

you’ve prepared a little something for everyone in your class— yes, even the forbidden grape haired classmate and him. your hands practically hurt from stirring, and you feel like if you’d even bend up slightly, you’d hear multiple cracks amass from your back.

but you think it’s all worth it. your work tastes good, looks good and cute, and you’re certain everyone would enjoy how their chocolates varied in flavor, even if the change was just slightly noticeable.

you hand out chocolates to each respective person as soon as they pop into the common room.

the girls of your class perk up in interest and clamor around you— smiles adorning their faces as they line up to receive their chocolates.

mina, kyouka and hagakure compare their flavors together, momo asks you how you did it, because she’s “bad at cooking”

ochako’s already munching on the sweets, when he starts thanking you. finally, tsuyu just looks at you silently, and gives you a warm side hug.

midoriya goes beet red when he realizes that you personally gave everyone a slightly different flavor (you don’t know how he blushed over that, but you find it endearing.) todoroki, tokoyami, shoji, sato, koda, and ojiro look a little confused and dazed at first when you give them your chocolates, but they end up accepting it with gratitude.

kirishima, iida, kaminari, sero, aoyama and mineta accept your chocolates rather quickly, wasting no time in giving their thanks (excluding mineta— who just teased you about liking him, which was and will never be the case)

but through it all, you managed to avoid eye contact with your snarky blond childhood friend and classmate— who was silently trailing you with crimson eyes the entire time.

for a moment you think he’s mad at you for not giving anything, which you’d understand— if it weren’t for the fact that he is valentines day’s #1 public enemy. but you exchange this thought for something else.

he must think that you’re strange for making the class chocolate, and you wouldn’t blame him. usually, it’d be sato making stuff like this. not to mention, you heard him remark rather loudly about the kitchen smelling strongly of chocolate, in his usual bakugou tone.

you made the right choice not to give him the chocolates you made, you think to yourself. not to mention, how amidst it all, you might’ve showed a slight bias to his chocolate’s design— and revealing your crush on him on today of all days is less than ideal.

and you think nothing of his behavior—

“s’ i’ve got nothing, huh?”

he jumpscares you when you close your locker, and he lets out a snort when your shoulders rise in reflection of your surprise.

your gaze trails to his locker, which cannot close due to a lump of chocolate and letters preventing it from properly doing so. “you’ve got plenty, though. i don’t want to give you diabetes or anything.”

(which was half true because wow the amount of chcolate—)

“you gave all of them chocolate. why’da do that?”

“because.. it’s valentines day..?” you start walking away from your locker— and to which he follows all the way. you try not to think much of the action

“but what makes you think that i shouldn’t get any.”

normally, one would state that as a question, but the way he said it, the tone of his voice— it wasn’t said like one.

“i know you, kachaan,” you reason while making use of his childhood nickname, which gains an eye twitch from the blond. “if i was told to count how many letters you’ve burned and chocolates you either gave away or thrown out, i wouldn’t have enough fingers on my hands.”

“‘cause all of them were fuckin’ store bought?”

“and what if they weren’t?”

“then they were horrendous.” he states, matter of a fact. then, his eyes narrow, “and it’s not like you’re giving me a damned letter.”

you feel your cheeks heat up. that’s not the case— but the idea of writing him a love letter has your mind going into haywire.

“it’s not. but you’ve never showed interest in this sorta thing in a long time.”

“what— eating chocolates?”

“pretty much.”

he blinks, unamused. “you can be such a dumbass sometimes. can’t take the fucking hint.”

you’re pretty sure he meant to say that quietly, but he didn’t. you’re unphased at this point.

but you don’t get what he means, so you try to defend yourself. “but—” your words come to a sudden halt, as you realize the uselessness.

“wait, why am i trying to reason with you?— look, i actually did make something for you too. if i didn’t then that’d be such an asshole move of me to exclude you.”

“really. you’re not bullshittin’ me?”

“no.” you reply, firmly. “but you have to promise not to laugh. you can insult me, but laugh? no way.”

he raises an eyebrow.

then, you shift onto one leg and start looking for something in one of the front pockets of your bag. the search doesn’t take long, because you pull something out— medium sized chocolate in clear wrapping, with an orange bow tying it together.

it’s clearly slightly bigger than the rest of your classmates, and you hope he doesn’t notice.

he silently unwraps the chocolate, and gets eye to eye with your creation. it’s three pieces of chocolate shaped as explosions— the middle explosion being bigger than the other two. anyone who sniffed it could smell orange first, as the middle (biggest) piece has a swirl of orange and milk chocolate, the left piece is simply milk chocolate, and the right piece is white chocolate.

he takes the middle one and bites half of it, and chews. you observe, like he’s a top chef reviewing your latest work, and when he finishes, he says—

“not bad,” he remarks, flashing that heart racing smile. “wanna taste?”

you gulp, stupefied by his offer. words don’t have real meanings for a second. “huh?”

then, he’s reaching up and popping the other half into your mouth, thumb pressing against your lips.

you almost choke— and it wasn’t from the chocolate. you bite, taste the flavor, the mouth watering taste of orange and chocolate swarming your mouth.

to twist the knife into the wound— he cups your face and presses a deep, but quick kiss against your lips. his soft lips linger onto yours, and this intensifies what you can already taste.

and then, as quick as he kissed you, he pulls back— gaze still lingering on your lips.

a toothy grin starts to grow on his lips, and he pats your shoulder— beginning to create distance between you two by walking ahead.

“next time, give me the chocolates first, will ya? tastes fuckin’ good.”

you have a feeling he isn’t talking about the chocolate.

#bnha imagines #bnha x reader #mha x reader #mha imagines #bnha fluff #bnha x y/n #bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x you #bakugou katsuki x y/n #bakugou katsuki x you #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou headcanons #bakugou imagines #bakugou katsuki fanfic #bakugou katsuki headcanons #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki fluff #mha fluff #mha scenarios #bnha scenarios #bakugou scenarios #happy valentines day 😁 (posts on feb 15 at 12:38am) #mha headcanons #mha x you #bnha x you

[hazbinwhoree]

reader that keeps adam in line and behaving well by simply flooding him with affection. adam being rude? grab his face, call him baby, tell him how handsome and great he is. then have him be have nicer to prove how kind a man he apparently is.

You Catch More Flies With Honey

“Holy fucking shitballs, am I seeing who I think I’m seeing?” Adam stopped walking abruptly as Charlie and Vaggie passed them. “What is she doing here? How did she even get up here?” Lute snarled.

“Who cares? I’m handling this shit, right now!” Adam moved to follow them, but (Name) stopped him with her hands on his chest. He looked down at her, his anger softening.

“You want to start a fight on the promenade in front of everyone?” Lute pointed out.

“Better than waiting for the fucking extermination–” (Name) cuts him off, yanking him down by his collar. “Adam,” she said sweetly. “Baby. Remember the Seraphim’s rule?” Adam grumbled, but didn’t argue. (Name) patted his cheek. “And you’re better than starting a fight like that. That’s not the kind of man I’m dating.”

Adam whined, but leaned into her hand on his cheek.

Lute rolled her eyes at Adam’s behavior. At least (Name) had him on a tight leash.

During court, (Name) was working overtime.

“Webster’s Dictionary defines redemption as–” Charlie began. “Objection!” Adam interrupted. “Lame and unoriginal.” (Name) nudged his arm. Sera, however, agreed with him. “If you have actual evidence then show it already,” Adam snapped. (Name) rubbed his back.

Court carried on, and eventually Lute got pissed and interjected. “What are we even talking about? Some crack whore who fucked up already? He blew his shot like the cocks in his mouth, this discussion is senseless and petty.”

Adam joined her and they flew down to Charlie and Vaggie’s level and (Name) didn’t even bother trying to follow. Adam and Lute fed off one another, and (Name) wasn’t at all surprised when Adam let it slip about the exterminations.

The room errupted into chaos, and before long, Adam was outing Vaggie as a fallen angel. As he threatened Charlie and Vaggie into the portal back to Hell before closing it on them, (Name) flew down from her seat.

“That was unnecessary, Adam,” Sera said stoically. She looked at (Name) with a “take care of it” look. (Name) marched over to Adam and Lute and dismissed Lute. Once Lute was gone, (Name) pulled Adam down by the collar to cup his face in her hands.

“That was mean, handsome.”

Adam looked sheepish. “Yeah I know…”

(Name) sighed, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Mean enough to warrant no sex tonight.” Adam’s jaw dropped. “No!” (Name) let go of his collar, taking his hands in hers. “You’re lucky I’m feeling nice, pretty boy.” Adam sighed in relief.

“But you are going to leave their hotel alone.”

“What?”

“I’m serious, Adam. You’re going to go about the extermination the way you usually would. You’re not going to target their hotel.”

“But–” “Or we could just not have sex tonight.”

Adam whined before finally agreeing. “Ugh, fine.”

“Thank you, baby,” (Name) cooed, cuddling up to his chest. Adam wrapped his arms around her. “Yeah, whatever.”

“You’re too handsome to be doing all that asshole shit.”

Adam softened under the praise, picking (Name) up so she could kiss him on the lips. “I’m sorry,” he said when (Name) pulled back.

“Just do better, my love.”

“I will.”

#hazbin adam #adam x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #hazbin charlie #hazbin husk #hazbin vaggie #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel #hazbin lute #x reader #oneshot #oneshots #fluff #hazbin lucifer #hazbin sir pentious #hazbin niffty

[billfarrah]

One thing that’s really rubbing me the wrong way about some people’s reaction to the ending is the way people are talking about Wille. I see comments that essentially imply he is nothing without his privilege backing him, that he has no personality outside of his relationship with Simon and he’s gonna be in for a rude awakening after the ending when he realizes the attention on him isn’t gone just because he’s giving up the title of Crown Prince and life as a normal person isn’t going to be an easy or smooth road.

To me it seems like the message has completely gone over some people’s heads.

No part of me felt while watching the ending that everything is now resolved and Wille will live happily ever after without any adversity ever again… No?

The point is he finally has a choice where he ends up.

Wille literally explains this to the Queen in the final scene - that he’s never felt like he’s had a choice. He didn’t choose to be born into the royal family, and as he points out to his mother, neither did she. The public didn’t choose who inherits the crown. None of them chose it. Wille wants a choice. By staying in this role and doing what is expected of him simply because it’s his birthright is exactly what Wille is actively fighting against.

Another common thread I’ve seen thrown around is that Wille has no personality outside of Simon and I think people need to realize that one’s hobbies and interests do not define their personality. Wille very much has a personality and he had one before he met Simon - he’s always been the type to question the status quo and why things are the way they are. In season 1 episode 1, before Wille meets Simon, we see Wille scoffing at being made to mingle and pose for photos with people he doesn’t know and we see him telling Henry and Walter they’re allowed to have their own opinions when they mindlessly agree with everything he says. If anything, he starts losing this side of his personality because of the restrictions the crown puts on him. Wille falling in line with his expectations throughout the series takes him further away from this side of himself that’s always been there. We see how detrimental this is not just to his relationship with Simon, but with Wille’s relationship with himself. How exactly is Wille supposed to find what he’s passionate about when he’s consistently being told that these are the things he should care about, this is how he needs to look to the public? This is all a very intentional narrative choice to demonstrate why Wille staying in his role is detrimental to his mental health and his ability to grow personally.

The ending is not saying “everything is fixed now and Wille will have a totally adversity-free life with Simon.” Nothing is fixed and nothing is certain, but at least he made a choice. He’s going to stumble and he’s going to continue to make mistakes and a life path is not going to construct itself for him, but at least he now has a choice. He doesn’t have to pick a hobby or interest that’s considered suitable for him. He can get tattoos if he wants to. He can get married or not get married. He can have kids or not have kids. He can go to university and study whatever he wants, and yes, he will still have his family’s money. He’s not gonna be destitute and that is indeed a privilege that Wille is aware of. Should he stay in a role he doesn’t want simply and that makes him miserable because he’s privileged? For all we know, maybe his family will cut him off and he’ll literally be on his own, and that’s a risk he’s willing to take to be, in his mind, free.

The public is not suddenly going to lose interest in him, but at least he won’t have to concern himself with the royal court dictating how he and Simon act or appear. He will no longer feel like he needs to control how Simon conducts his social media presence. It’s very clear in s3 that Wille is not personally upset with Simon for posting the song or the picture with the little boy at the worker’s March - he smiles when he sees it - but that he’s worried what the royal court is going to think about it.

As far as the idea that Wille giving up the crown at the end was indeed for Simon because Wille has no identity without Simon, I really don’t think this is fair to say at all, because Wille was unhappy with his position even before he met Simon. He hated that he couldn’t even do something silly and reckless without issuing an apology. He hated that he had to uproot his entire life because he made a mistake and his family was trying to save his image in the eyes of the public. The thing is, before he met Simon, and before the events of the series, Wille didn’t feel like he had a way out, and funnily enough, that’s for the exact same reason people are dunking on him for now - because it’s the only way of life he knew. He didn’t see a way out and it’s through being with Simon that his extremely narrow view of the world gets challenged and he’s finally able to see a way out. Did Simon inspire him to do what he did? Of course he did. This entire concept is materialized through the scene where Simon tells Wille that he never had a choice who he was born as and that he sees how the monarchy makes him feel. To say that Wille gave it up for Simon implies, to me, that Wille would’ve been happy in the role if not for Simon, which I don’t believe is true. He’d still be miserable but perhaps feel less like he has the agency to do things about it. Getting to be with Simon at the end is certainly a big part of why he did it, but that also just kinda goes hand in hand with his own personal freedom, doesn’t it?

I find it kinda funny how much the internet preaches that it’s never too late to figure out who you are or what you wanna do and I see people acting like Wille is somehow doomed because he’s a 17-year-old without any interests or hobbies. Wille’s entire struggle is with having his life completely mapped out for him and it’s like with him giving up his role people are now questioning the fact that he doesn’t have an entire life mapped out for himself. I spent my time when I was 17 blogging on tumblr and doing nothing else and didn’t go to college until I was 24. I’m 29 now and I’m still learning what I’m passionate about. To treat Wille’s lack of hobbies or interests as some kind of moral failure or indicative of a lack of personality really, really bothers me and to me his lack of interests and hobbies has always been a very intentional writing choice, and the ending, if anything, gives him all the time in the world to figure that out. He might even develop an interest and then realize it’s not for him! The amount of people I know that went to college for what they thought they wanted to do then dropped out because they changed their mind, or graduated from school, couldn’t find a job, and then went back to school for something else is endless. This is all part of the human experience and it’s going to be an entirely new journey for him, but that part of his journey did not a part of this particular story, and in that way, the ending is open. It also helps that regardless of Wille’s wealth and privilege, education in Sweden is FREE.

In the end, the message of the ending is exactly what Boris said to Wille in season 2: we can’t choose who we are born as, but we can choose how we want to live, and that’s exactly what the ending is saying, and that’s what Edvin meant when he said the ending is open. Wille’s road is not suddenly going to be perfect and easy, but at least all of his choices, including his mistakes and struggles, can be entirely his own.

#young royals #yr #prince wilhelm #wilmon #had to get this out coz it was bothering me

[writing-makes-me-human]

🌊Love And Guests🌊

┍━━━━━»•» 🌺 «•«━┑

Pairing: Aonung x reader

PART TWO: HERE

Summary: Aonung has put out your usual sass with his recent flirting and it’s driving you insane. When he finally gets to speak with you alone as he shows off his spear throwing expertise it gets heated quickly

Warnings: Sexual tension and heated word choices, no smut but it gets close, mention of genitals 

Word Count: 3.1K

A/N: No updates, I’m getting back into writing after months of breaks so I’m sorry if i’m rusty.  Also I feel like it goes without saying that Aonung is of age in all of my writing. I am not just writing about a minor, you are close in age. 19 years old.

┕━»•» 🌺 «•«━━━━━┙

"I still don't know why you think it's better that I teach you instead of my brother", Tsireya warmly suggested as she handed you a beginner's spear to practice with.

"Because I want to learn from the best", was all you managed to say as you took the spear in your hands and inspected it with wandering hands.

The real reason you were so eager to meet up with Tsireya instead of Aonung was laughable. Aonung had been playing a dangerous game with your feelings, making you feel a way you shouldn't to fuel your thoughts about the chief's son. Avoiding the brat to the best of your abilities for weeks now was the only way you could fight the fact you were slowly starting to become infatuated with the boy that was growing into a young man.

He had become cocky now that he was of age, and while he still had a few years of learning left before becoming chief, it had become clear his training was making him more and more defined. The way his body moved with every hearty laugh or every faux wrestling match with his friends drove you up the wall, so you decided it was best to try and stop seeing him altogether.

However, this was becoming a challenge as he had recently decided to spend more of his free time harassing you than anyone else. It was very confusing, as you thought you had put this bullying behind you when you were children. That could easily be forgotten, though, as he was indeed still the next leader, and that could explain his rudeness, but what couldn't be helped was the blush that overgrew you every time he towered over you with that smirk that he didn't know affected you in such unforgiving ways.

"Well, thank you, I'm flattered", she giggled, then continued, "but Aonung is the top in the clan at spear throwing, and he's not gonna be happy if he finds out you asked me instead of him", she never felt bad for her brother. Still, when it came to the matter of his undying yet, painfully expressed crush on you, she felt merciful.

You scoffed, squaring yourself next to her as you looked towards the targets drawn on the ground.

The target range for spear-throwing was closer to the village than any of the other training areas because you needed the clear ground to allow a large windup for hurling the stick through the air. It was still private, which you enjoyed because you had a feeling this was going to be an embarrassingly miserable display of physical prowess.

The targets were set up in the distance and made up of 3 circles of fine white sand sprinkled in precise shapes on the ground. Tsireya had already collected the sand earlier in the day and laid out the rings in exchange for you to be the one that churned the sand into the dirt when you were done so the next person who came to train could easily set up the rings and get started.

"I don't think I could handle his smugness at having me asking him a favor", you smiled at her, holding up the spear like you had seen Aonung and his friends do when they came here to learn when you were younger.

It was the truth. Honestly, you wouldn't have been able to handle his smug looks or laugh or the fact that to teach you meant one on one time by yourselves. You would prefer being lectured by Ronal, and that was saying something.

She nodded, trying to copy you as she held up the pointed end of the spear into the air, getting herself ready to fling the wooden spike. The artillery was too large for her, and you watched in curiosity as she heaved it up a little higher with a grunt.

"Alright, so what you want to do is pull back and using your back leg, you want to push--" she was cut off by the sound of laughter in the near vicinity. Before she could resume her instructions, you heard the sound of foliage and leafs being broken as a group of four boys emerged into the clearing, each of them but one with their spears by their side.

Aonung was still laughing at something Rotxo had said, but when he looked up and saw you, with your arms still raised as his sister mirrored you, he felt his heart skip a beat and his face light up with delight.

You cursed under your breath and dropped the stick like it was a venomous snake, instantly turning around to hide your slightly tinged face.

This was so unfair! He hadn't even said anything so far. All he had done was smile and laugh! He never had this much of a hold on you when he was younger. As he got older and his hair grew past his shoulders, and his muscles became larger, you became less aware of what to do with yourself.

"I have to go", you mumbled, feeling the tinge fade as you turned to pick up the burlap sack you had brought with you and leave for the village.

"Well, what is going on here?" Aonung called out in the conceited tone he saved for when he was talking to you. His deep voice boomed around the clearing, forcing its way into your ears and silencing the chatter between his other friends.

You didn't respond and instead made your way in the opposite direction they had come from, but before you could escape, a few words were yelled out, making your face nearly melt off your skull and onto the floor below you.

"Somewhere to be, pretty girl?" Aonung called out while his friends spread out, tossing down their training gear and lunches they had packed in preparation for a few hours of training.

You turned sharply, trying to calm your breathing so the blood would move from the gathering in your cheeks down to your heart which desperately needed the extra help because the poor thing was beating overtime.

"Just remembered I have somewhere to be", you said rather awkwardly, not allowing yourself to come across as timid but not quite having the energy to yell back at him with the same enthusiasm.

"Oh, come on! You said you wanted to learn from the best, and he's right here!" Tsireya spoke. She lay down her spear next to yours and jogged up to you. She grinned as she gently tugged on your hand, coaxing you to come and stand to talk to the boys who were checking over their weapons.

You sighed, then gave in, dropping the sack and letting her drag you over to Aonung, who was still standing in the same spot. As you walked over, he had a proud smile etched on his face, and you wanted nothing more than to slap it off.

Your face dropped so you could look anywhere but into his eyes that would have caught you in his dangerous trap of good looks and gentle teasing and never let you go.

"Come on, teach her!" Tsireya was far too excited, nearly jumping up and down while her older brother rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Who said I wanted to help?" He snarkly asked, then continued, "and next time you're thinking of using my spear, ask!" He spat, gesturing to the spike that was laid on the ground rather carelessly. That cleared up the question of why the spear had nearly tipped her over when she held it up.

She elbowed him roughly in the chest with her free arm causing him to bend down a little in pain and scowl at her, but no sound of agony came out.

He quickly straightened himself and snarled at Tsireya, but she gave him a pointed look before her eyes darted to you several times. After a few seconds, he finally got her unspoken threat and sighed, pushing past the both of you to walk over to collect his projectile.

You ignored the feeling of his hand burning on your shoulder as he pushed between you two, breaking the hold Tsireya had on you.

"Come on, pretty girl, let's see what you can do", he called out, not bothering to turn around because he knew you'd be following.

You looked over to Tsireya before you elbowed her yourself, questioning her with a look. She knew you didn't want to speak with him, yet here he was and instead of ushering him away, she had insisted he teaches you.

She simply shrugged at you and pushed you forward before running off to sit next to her brother's friends.

You passed by Rotxo and nodded to him in greetings which he returned before tucking into the fruits he had brought with him. He was chatting with his friends, who all found a spot under a nearby tree that was far enough away from the targets that they wouldn't hear you and Aonung's words to each other but still close enough that they could still see any funny failings.Your eyes settled on Aonung's back, and you took a deep breath, you didn't even have the shame to look away when he crouched down and picked up his spear, checking it over for dirt or marks.

"You watch me first, then you try", he said, glancing over to see you were watching him with eyes slightly wide at the idea of trying to copy his expert throw with an audience.

He smiled at you, which caused you to blush and break the stare you had been holding on his body, which only made him grin, thus continuing the terrible cycle.

"Eyes on me, nobody else is watching, so you can look at me as much as you want", he called you out with a smirk when you finally scowled, giving him a reaction that he couldn't help but chuckle at.

"I worry for anybody that enjoys looking at you", you hissed while taking a step back, knowing he would have to have some space to move when he threw the spike.

He didn't say anything this time but didn't have to. His eyes spoke for him as they shone like the sea on a sunny day.

"So she speaks! I was beginning to worry!" He watched you roll your eyes in amusement with a slight smile on your face, and he silently swore at himself in his head for turning so you wouldn't see his sly grin that he only got when he made you happy.

"Let's start", he wasted no more time and held the wooden stick over his head. You watched with slightly awestruck eyes as his body moved so purposefully.

He raised the spear, and using his other arm, he aimed to secure the direction he was throwing in. He could feel your eyes on him, and it made him cocky. He wanted to show off, to show you he was strong and worthy of praise.

He pulled back his left leg, then after taking a breath, he threw it with as much strength as it took to land directly in the centre of the target. They were far closer than he usually had them, but it was to be expected since you were a beginner.

The weapon shot through the air before the sharp spearhead dug into the ground with a thud, landing directly in the centre of the most petite ring. A perfect bullseye.

He leaned back with a satisfied grin. He turned to look at you with the hopes you would be at least slightly impressed. You were still staring, mouth open in an 'o' shape, struck somewhat by just how gifted at the sport he was, and it made a part of his internal body tingle when you turned with the look changing from amazement to an affectionate smile.

"I'll admit you aren't bad, I've seen worse", you couldn't help the smile anymore. He always had a way of killing off your anxiety, and right now was no different. His cocky grin made your heart speed up, but your mind just wanted to insult him until he dropped.

"If that's all it takes to impress you, I am afraid to know how easy it is to please you", he took no shame in his words, and your smile quickly dropped to embarrassed growls as you hid your face, turning to look over at his friends that were all talking to Tsireya about something at the same time. The discussion looked heated, and none of them paid attention to you two.

You watched, eyes as focused as ever. 

"Arrogant brat", was all you could get out as you looked down at your feet and kicked at the dirt.

"Oh, did I touch a nerve? I didn't know you were such a goody-goody", he didn't wait for your smart-ass answer and walked off to tug his spear out of the ground sharply. Your mind was reeling as you heard a soft grunt escape his lips as he yanked his prize out of the ground.

You shook your head and bent down to pick up the training spear you had been given, not taking notice of your position that had your back to the sky until you felt a hand smack into your backside harshly.

The slap was loud, making your face turn scarlet red as you jumped up, abandoning the spike to glare at Aonung with a death stare.

You were shocked, he had never been so bold with his teasing, and while it wouldn't have crossed a line had you been alone, you could feel the four pairs of eyes gawking at the back of your head.

"Don't", you gently warned. You didn't want to admit it, and you knew it was wrong, and the pompous imp should have been ashamed of himself, Aonung should have been on his hands and knees begging to be forgiven, but a part of your brain was fighting not to jump his bones right now and embarrass him in front of his friends.

And he dared to look proud of himself as he laughed at your face, raising his hand in a half-assed attempt to hide the smile while you geared up to smack him across the face.

He noted how livid you looked and sighed. He hadn't meant to offend you. But when he was walking back and saw how your ass was staring at him like that, he couldn't resist the temptation.

"All right, I'm sorry" he held his hands up in surrender as a beam of playfulness poured from his eyes as a flirtatious grin overtook him.

"If you want to touch my body, ask, coward", you bit back, letting yourself grin as he took his turn of letting his mouth go slack at your actions.

"What's wrong pretty boy? Need some help?" you chuckled, nodding your head south. His eyes followed yours with a confused quirk on his brow as he looked down, and his eyes widened as he nervously took in that he had a half chub under his loin cloth.

You took a step back from him, feeling the heat between your legs signal it was time to go before you made some terrible mistakes that led you both behind a tree somewhere doing things you wanted to make him wait for.

He couldn't take his eyes off you, and as you felt the roles reversing, you suddenly understood why Aonung found the teasing so fun.

He looked back up at your smug face and peeked toward the group behind you with a silent plea in his eyes. Don't drag their attention down to his excitement.

"You need to learn some manners, Aonung, it's not becoming of the next chief to be so blatant in public, you've really hurt my feelings", you gave a dramatic exaggeration of a pout to him while your hands came to lay on your heart.

He was blocked from the sight line of his peers by where you were standing, but one step to the left or right and even from this distance, it was undeniable that he was hard.

He hadn't moved to cover his crotch yet but he dropped the spear, staring at you with begging eyes. It seemed that your sudden 360 from being a blushed-out lovesick moron to a vengeful demon had done nothing to ease him down, if anything, you made it worse.

You leaned forward, taking great pleasure in standing on your feet a little to get even with his ear, your hot breath panted onto his neck and he couldn't do anything to stop you. One move, and you'd be exposing him to his closest friends.

"Compared to me, I think it's you that's easy to please", you smiled, and he hated how he could feel the heat from your mouth as your teeth came so close to his neck that it drove him mad.

You quickly pulled away and smiled when you saw his eyes were closed, he was focusing on his breathing like he had you doing from his actions so many times before, and it felt so good to see him like this. A grown man that was bigger than you in every way imaginable was trying to calm his breath over you and your words.

"Well, this has been fun, but I'll see you later, Aonung", you felt confident for the first time in weeks and slowly, you felt the old you coming back, the sarcastic you that had just as much bark in you as Aonung.

You turned to leave, but he grabbed your arm, pulling you closer to him, not quite flush against his body, lest one of the others looked up again and saw you two so close.

"Wait a few minutes, then follow me", he didn't give you the time to reply once again as he picked up the spear and finally had the dignity to cover himself with his free hand before walking off to go deeper into the forest without so much as a glance back.

Oh, you knew you shouldn't. You should turn around and leave, let the warrior get himself off in the forest like the animal he was acting like. Still, the heat that had signaled you to go nearly 5 minutes ago had grown, and you knew that even if it wasn't visible, your body was nearly 10x as horny as Aonung was.

You wanted him.

But you knew you couldn't mate here, and certainly not like this.

'Leave, leave leave', your mind screamed as your feet took step after step of their own volition after him.

You worried for a second that somebody would call out to you and ask where you were going, but a part of you knew that everyone had already worked out the nature of what was going on with you two. They had all been staring at you after he slapped your ass, so they must have.

"I'll just talk to him", you finally muttered to yourself as you set off in a faster pace, going off to find him.

#aonung #aonung x reader #aonung x you #ao'nung #ao'nung x y/n #ao'nung x reader #ao'nung x you #aonung x y/n #way of water #avatar 2 #avatar 2023 #avatar way of water #x reader #romance #aonung imagine #aoung x reader #atwow x reader #atwow headcanons #female reader

[kvtie444]

*₊ ° . CAR WASH .1

(pt.2)

a/n: frat chris au!!!

summary: frat boy car wash, Chris and reader get with it lmao

warnings: swearing??

・₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆

"Nope. No fucking way," I declared with a vehement refusal, but Madi persisted, her eyes pleading with a persuasive intensity. "Come on, Y/N, it's for charity," she urged, the promise of a frat car wash just down the road tempting her enthusiasm. Reluctantly parked by the side of the road, the prospect of all proceeds going to charity seemed to be the driving force behind Madi's relentless desire. Surrendering to her imploring gaze, I sighed, finally conceding, "Fine."

As Madi smiled to herself, she steered the car towards the car wash, and we approached with a sense of reluctant anticipation. A blonde frat boy promptly knocked on the driver's side window, and Madi rolled it down. "Car wash is 10 bucks, darling," he declared with a smirk. Handing him the bill, Madi rolled her window back up. Suddenly, a forceful hose caught me off guard as some frat boys energetically sprayed down the car, water droplets cascading down before they switched it off.

Amidst the spectacle, the earlier blonde attendant jumped on the car's bonnet, dumping soap on the windscreen. Madi couldn't contain her excitement, hysterically screaming and clapping her hands. Chuckling at the scene, I glanced out my window, only to find another captivating figure approaching. He had brown hair, blue eyes, and a backward hat that added a touch of charm. Our eyes met, and a magnetic smile played on his lips, prompting a blush on my part. Looking away, I stole another glance after a second - he was undeniably attractive.

My attention intensified as he began to peel off his tank top, revealing a canvas of exposed skin that begged exploration. From his V-line to a teasing happy trail, veiny hands, and well-defined arms, every detail captured my attention. As he started scrubbing my window with his shirt, a shared smile played on our lips, holding eye contact in a silent exchange.

Eventually, the hose resumed its full force, and as he circled around the car, I marveled at the sight of his wet hair making his eyes appear impossibly bluer. The car wash concluded, and I glanced down at my lap to check the time on my phone when a knock on the window interrupted me – it was him again. Lowering my window, he rested his arm against it and leaned in. "Enjoying the car wash?" he smirked, to which I playfully rolled my eyes, retorting, "It's for charity." Undeterred, "enjoy the show?" he inquired, licking his lips. "Maybe," I confessed with a blush, prompting a laugh from him.

"I'd like to see you do one of these, a car wash," Chris declared, holding eye contact with a captivating intensity. I licked my lips, a playful smile adorning my face as I replied, "Maybe one day." His next inquiry caught my attention, "Think I can get your number?" His eyes flickered over my lips for a fleeting second, and I couldn't help but giggle. "Yeah," I replied, retrieving my phone. Chris took it, his focus unwavering as he typed, "What's your name, ma?" Without hesitation, I answered, "Y/N." He handed back my phone, and as I read the newly created contact - Chris, a warm smile spread across my face, accompanied by the telltale heat in my cheeks.

Our moment was rudely interrupted by a honk from behind us, signaling the presence of another eager participant in the car wash queue. Chris turned back to me, a playful look in his eyes as he urged, "Text me, yeah?" I nodded, and he flashed a charming smile before brushing some stray hair away from my face. As he pulled away from the window, he threw his wet shirt casually over his shoulder, adding a touch of nonchalance to his departure.

Madi restarted the car, and we drove away, leaving the car wash scene behind. Glancing back, I caught Chris watching, and a private smile played on my lips. Turning my attention to my phone, now sitting in the chat, I think of my next move.

Curiosity still lingering, I turned to Madi. "Do you think our frat house could pull off a car wash like that?" I inquired. "I'm down" she replied with an enthusiastic nod. I start typing, sending Chris a text,

"wanna come to out carwash?"

・₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆

tag list !!

@iloveneilperry @bernardenjoyer @daddyslilchickenfingers @mbbsgf @sturnvilmed @s1urnioloslvr @mattsbratt @mangoposts @christinarowie332 @recklesssturniolo @bluesturniolo333 @flowerxbunnie @kenzieiskoolaid @pepsiskiess @poopydroopt @byechristopher @solarsturniolo @m6ttsturniolo @lustfulslxt @stardustmf444 @thankyounextt @glossyfx @bellasturniolo @justurniolos @cl0esblogg @strumbolisworld @strniolosworld @chrisloyalgf @aliyahsbody @spideylovin @justangelheree @sturnioloenthusiast @nickmillersn1gf @soursturniolo@bernardenjoyer

#Spotify #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #imagine #angst #chris sturniolo x reader #fluff #smut

[ozzgin]

I can't get your yakuza headcanons out of my mind, Daitou's got me in a chokehold and I'm not complaining, like--

in regards to that doodle you made to show height difference between reader and the boys [I love your art btw (●♡∀♡)] - I can't picture myself in reader's style, I'm currently going through my goth phase in my 20s lmao; picture a big bitch with tattoos and messy hair who's listening to nothing but 2000s hits and screamo bands - so I'd like to request a headcanon of how Daitou would react to a gender-neutral reader like this :D I also like to incorporate the idea of them once being in a famous band that he's a fan of! (sorry if this seems like a lot, I have a huge imagination hehe)

but if he's more into the cute and helpless type, I'll just walk my ass out the door and yeehaw my way into another yandere's arms ✌😔

That's on me for not drawing the reader inserts as cartoonish cinder blocks :') In truth I'm a little bit embarrassed seeing how many likes that doodle has gotten, it was something I put together in a hurry and the clothing was meant to be baggy, shapeless, with not too many folds for the sake of simplicity. I myself am more of a pilgrim goth, just to emphasize the randomness of the choice.

Drawing reader inserts always leaves me a little anxious. If I use a light shade of gray, will people think I'm excluding poc? Will plus sized readers feel like they've been disregarded? What about masculine readers? As someone who's demiromantic I always struggle taking appearance or gender into consideration, because to me it has no influence whatsoever. Which is hard to express when you want to offer blank slate visuals as an extra to the story.

What I'm trying to say is that all of my characters would like you for who you are. Sure, they find your looks cute, but it's not the defining reason. Maybe you have similar traits to them, maybe you're the complete opposite and they find it intriguing. You could be a buff man and Daitou would be just as grateful to have someone who isn't afraid of him. I usually stick to a female reader for bigger stories to avoid messing it up long term, but in the grand scheme of things it makes no difference. I always imagine reader to be a shapeless blob that provides the dialogue I need for the story mood. There's no concrete preference or type for any of my OCs. I mean, ideally you'd like them back and not hang them upside down above a BBQ pit but I feel these are sensible requirements (?).

And now for the actual headcanons since my ramble is over.

First encounter is comically awkward but for reasons you’re unaware of yet. You’re obviously used to people staring at you (more so in a country like Japan), so you were expecting the curious glance every now and then. On the other hand, being under scrutiny, from a man even more unusual looking than you at that, is odd. Mildly uncomfortable. You’re shifting yourself from one leg to another, hoping to be done with the introductions soon.

On his end, Daitou is anxiously fidgeting and trying his best to focus. He’s seen this face before and he can’t shake off the familiar feeling. Where the hell…He obviously can’t downright gawk at you, and he isn’t sure how to politely formulate a question. After several sheepish peeks, it finally dawns on him: weren’t you part of that band he really likes? No, what would the chances be? Then again, how many people out there would look exactly like you? Is it rude to ask? He has no idea. He resumes his mumbled description of the apartment and hands you the papers to be signed.

Back at his place, he finally digs through his merch and sprawls out the available clues. “I didn’t know you were into this kind of music”, Kazuya comments as he looks over the man’s shoulder. He’d come over to ask about the new tenant. “I’m pretty sure it’s them.” He concludes, confidently placing his index over a CD cover. “Huh? Who? The tenant?” Kazuya holds back his chuckle. “Why would a celebrity show up for a shady apartment offer? You’re tripping, man.”

“I’m sorry, this is getting ridiculous.” You finally exclaim, annoyed by the persistent stares of the now two men facing you. You’re standing in front of the apartment building, arms crossed, huffing at the tall scarred man and his blonde friend. “No, I’m sure of it. Even the tattoo is the same.” Daitou turns to whisper to Kazuya, oblivious to your complaints. In turn, Kazuya lightly elbows him, mouthing something about being rude. “Just ask them, man.” He adds, this time louder. “Ask me what??” You groan. “W-were you…um…in this band by any chance?” Daitou manages to blurt out, searching his pocket for the CD case and ceremoniously laying it under your eyes.

Ah. It finally clicks and you exhale, relieved. You confirm their suspicions and show them some backstage photos to solidify your claim. You ask Daitou if he wants an autograph or something, then swiftly scribble your signature on a piece of paper and hand it out to him. He holds it with a wide, childish grin. “You’re a weird one, you know? You could’ve just asked. I guess I didn’t expect to find a fan in the wild, especially here.” Daitou carefully folds the souvenir, eyes lidded with nostalgia. “Oh yes, it’s great. Drowns out the screams.”

#yandere yakuza #yakuza x reader #daitou

[ohmtoff]

Creep

Nick Sturniolo x OC smut

Summary: Nick tried to take a picture of a hot stranger in the grocery store, but when his flash went off, Ethan, the hot man in question, used Nick’s clumsiness for his own advantage

Contains: Anal sex, bottom!nick, top!oc, oral sex, spanking (very minor, not explicit), unsafe sex, barebacking, unconsensual photo taking, fingering, rimming, hair pulling, light dom/sub, dirty talk, slight crying during sex, overstimulation

Word count: 5,078 words

Disclaimers: minors dni. will contain grammar mistakes, english isn't my first language. this is FICTION, always use protection during sex, never take a pic of a stranger without their consent.

a/n: this was partly made bc i cant get over the idea of larray tara and nick as a trio like IM GNA LOSE IT. the tiktok talked about was (https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSF8YxXn6/) its so funny i need to include it.

——————————————————————————

Nick laughs, reading Larray’s last message about a tiktok he found of a guy pretending to be called gay in middle school and his friend defending him, both of them relating to that video strongly.

He tries to reign in his grin, as he’s on a supermarket trying to buy groceries, and laughing to yourself is just plain weird, so he forces himself to press his lips together as Larray and Tara sent jokes that make his belly hurt. He briefly takes his eyes off the string of messages, hearing a loud cough, and clocks grey sweatpants on strong thighs. He’s interested, immediately, checking out the rest of the tall boy who is standing next to him by the snack aisle, holding onto his cart. A black short sleeved compression shirt defining his strong chest and bicep, complimenting bouncy and slightly curly brown hair, a face adorning deep brown eyes that could pass for both handsome or pretty, and veiny hands that make Nick’s mind wander. He texts the group.

jacob elordi brainrot

Nick: hottest. guy. ever. in the grocery store

Larray: ???? not possible, I’m at home 

Tara: ew

Larray: rude

Tara: anyways

Tara: PHOTO

Larray: how hot?

Nick: grey sweats and compression shirt hot

Larray: PHOTO

Tara: PHOTO

Nick: I can’t take a pic guys that’s creepy

Larray: PHOTO

Tara: PHOTO

Nick: No

Tara: come oooonnnn PHOTO

Nick: ugh fine

It didn’t take much for them to convince Nick because he knows he actually really wants to take a picture of the hottie to his right, for scientific purposes of course. Nick makes sure his phone is on silent before he angles it, tipping it back a little as he hopes he captures most of the guy. He tries to look at others on the store, rather than focus on what he’s doing, thumb moving around where he thinks the snapshot button is until – flash – the bright white light of his camera lights up the entire back case of his phone. 

Nick feels his heart catch in the back of his throat, and he’s slow in moving his hand, the immediate humiliation making him freeze. He can’t help but look at the stranger, and he sees how he takes in Nick’s obvious creeper shot, Nick feeling the anxiety coarse through him at lightning speed.

He’s fearful as the stranger frowns, stepping over to him, and Nick slightly backs up immediately.

“I’m - ”

“Did you just take a photo of me?” the stranger asks, and Nick thinks his face may melt, the shame of his actions making him lie, shaking his head silently.

“You didn’t?” the stranger asks, even more handsome, prettier, up close, but he’s clearly unimpressed by Nick’s rudeness, and Nick is panicking, brain drawing blanks.

“I…” Nick gapes, looking for the words, “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” the stranger demands forcefully, grabbing Nick’s phone, Nick gasping at that, but too embarrassed to fight it. The boy doesn’t look through Nick’s phone, just holds it and stares at Nick accusingly, Nick having to shrug, truly embarrassed and he feels pairs of eyes on his back judging him. 

“Come with me,” the stranger demands, still holding Nick’s phone, making his way to ut of the store, both of their carts abandoned. Nick doesn’t have much of a choice if he values his phone, and he follows, ashamed.

“I am sorry,” he pants, keeping up with the other boy’s pace, “can I have it back?”

The stranger slows down slightly, starting to look through the phone. Nick realises with horror that his phone isn’t locked, as he kept the camera open, and he reaches to grab his phone back, but the stranger is tall, holding it higher as he clicks on the incoming messages.

Larray: PHOTO!!! What’s with the silence girl? You better be sucking his dick!

Tara: PHOTO

The stranger scrolls up, Nick groaning in embarrassment, watching him read Nick’s earlier messages about how hot he is.

“Seriously creepy,” he shakes his head, deep voice just making it even worse as Nick cringes, “you’re perving on me in the store and taking my photo without my consent?”

“I’m genuinely sorry,” Nick said, his voice tinged with guilt, “I’ll delete it immediately and leave.”

The boy is doing something on his phone and Nick attempts to grab it back, but still, he’s too slow, still not tall enough.

“Ah ah,” the stranger tuts, “don’t worry. I was just sending your friends the creepy photo.” Nick starts to feel a little sick with anxiety, just wanting this to be over. He is never, ever listening to both his friends again. He’s frustrated and desperate, and in a fit of anger, he flounces off, “keep the fucking phone,” he rages, regretting it instantly, but he has no choice but to continue walking, leaving his very badly needed phone in the hands of another man. You idiot, you’re a public figure, what if he does something to your socials, he screams internally

“Hey!” Nick hears, “come back here.” He stops, and looks at the stranger with anxiety, his face hot from the embarrassment as he awkwardly walks back. Nick is confident that now his phone will be given back to him and he is secretly relieved, knowing he can’t afford to walk away and leave his public image in the hands of a stranger. He isn’t sure how he’d explain that to his brothers.

“You could make it up to me,” the boy suggests, and Nick looks at him properly, the smirk on his mouth and the way his eyes move, seemingly resting on Nick’s crotch.

“W – what?” Nick stammers, blushing, and the guy shrugs.

“You think I’m hot,” he states, “I think you’re hot, too.”

Nick chuckles nervously, unsure, a little scared this is some bizarre prank, but the boy is so sincere, nothing about him suggesting this is a joke. Nick has seen the look he has in his eyes in many boys and men, who Nick has flirted with and fucked before, but this is the first time Nick’s ever felt so drawn to another.

“I live near here,” the boy gestures, “I can think of a few things you can do for me to make up for your lack of manners.”

Nick wants to tell him to fuck off, wipe the slightly arrogant smirk off his face, but the confident way the guy stands, waiting on Nick’s response, his certainty, is making Nick’s dick twitch in interest, in want.

“Whatever,” the man smiles, casually slipping the phone back into Nick’s pocket before shrugging again, sauntering off, leaving Nick stood in the middle of the parking lot, torn between walking away – and he knows, he knows, kicking himself for it – or running after this guy desperately, letting him know how badly he wants him to make good on his promises.

He’s about to disappear when Nick makes a snap decision and runs after him, panting as he catches up, the boy turning to look at him from his car as he hears footsteps, bursting out in a laughter, his grin taking up his entire face. Nick readjusts his sweater.

“I’m horny, don’t – don’t get cocky,” he mutters, but the other boy doesn’t say a word, just makes Nick feel dizzy with a long look as he opens the passenger seat of his car and motion for Nick to get inside. 

“Nick, right?” he asks, as he hops in and shut the door of the drivers seat, and Nick nods, assuming he saw his name on the messages, “I’m Ethan.”

Nick was going to respond but his eyes catches the way Ethan’s seatbelt tightens on his pecs and Nick almost drooled. His eyes traveled upward to see this adonis-like man smirking and Nick swiftly turned his head towards the road. The drive to the apartment was short and thankfully not awkward due to the music playing, but Nick was still sweating even with the air conditioner on because oh my god he’s so fucking hot, is that his huge dick print on his sweatpants? Fuck, his veins are so visible why are his fingers so LONG? that shit can reach my tonsi-

His thoughts were interrupted by the car finally parked at the other man’s house. Both of them walked towards the door with haste and no words exchanged, eyes focused on going inside.

Ethan unlocked the door and let Nick in, the latter unable to get a word out before Ethan’s mouth flew towards his, and he’s harsh and fast and demanding, so Nick matches it, kissing Ethan like he needs it, and maybe he does. Ethan is shoving him into what Nick assumes is his bedroom, pulling off Nick’s sweater, as Nick yanks that heavenly tight shirt, until they meet Ethan’s bed and Ethan throws him down on it. He watches, heart racing, as Ethan pulls down his jeans, pulling at them forcefully, yanking them off as Nick helps him, pulling him back down for a kiss. Nick’s never known someone kiss this way; unyielding and demanding as he grabs Nick’s head and devours him, Nick pulling back at Ethan’s tangled hair, until Ethan grabs him wrists and pins them down.

Nick can’t help but moan, his dick hard in his briefs, because Ethan is pressing all his buttons right now. He hates the self-satisfied grin on Ethan’s smug, pretty face, but there’s no denying Nick loves it rough, which Ethan clearly does too.

“Like that, sweetheart?” Ethan asks, tongue running over his bottom lip, Nick watching it’s every moment, groaning in response, Ethan’s large hands still wrapped around delicate wrists, still pinning Nick down. Nick is fully hard and needy now, Ethan letting go of his wrists to grip each side of his face and bruise him with a kiss, Nick making the most of his new found freedom by gripping Ethan’s shoulders, nails digging in.

He’s a mess already, the curly haired man moving harsh kisses to his neck and chest as he moves down, the kisses becoming wetter, sloppier, Nick whimpering as Ethan ghosts over his clothed dick, mouthing at him teasingly.

“Please,” Nick whispers, but Ethan either doesn’t hear or ignores it, pressing feather light kisses across him, Nick beginning to peel his briefs off only to have his hands batted away.

“Do that again and I’ll tie you up,” Ethan warns, and Nick’s cock jumps at the tone in his voice, obeying, hands grabbing fistfuls of Ethan’s duvet instead to stop them from straying. Ethan stops, pushing Nick encouraging so his head is propped up, and he has little choice except to look at Ethan as he mercifully begins to strip him off his briefs. Nick’s toes curl as they’re discarded and Ethan is back between his legs, Nick waiting for the inevitable lick, looking down at Ethan as he’s forced to wait.

“What?” he asks, knowing his face is pink and he’s far gone, Ethan looking at him with playful eyes as he spreads Nick’s legs even further apart, leaning down, finally, Nick thinks, to touch his dick, but Ethan presses wet kisses and soft bites to the inside of Nick’s right thigh, moving up as he gets closer to Nick’s dick, nudging his balls with his nose and Nick is going to pass out from the feel of Ethan’s skin right there, from feeling his tongue and his little huffs of breath, whimpering embarrassingly loud as Ethan finally licks a long stripe up his dick to the tip, suckling the pre-cum collected there before he stops.

“Ethan,” Nick begs, and Ethan does the same to his left, Nick sure he’s intent on leaving bite marks on his fleshy thighs where there’s plenty for Ethan to sink his teeth into, Nick wondering if it’s possible to come from this. He’s obeying Ethan’s no touching rule, for now, and it is torture, before Ethan repeats this special form of hell – licking from Nick’s balls up to the tip of his cock, in one long, slow lick – flicking his tongue over the head, and pulling away. “This – I can’t do this,” Nick moans, “please just, give me…”

Ethan shakes his head, and Nick falls quiet, until he feels the blessed tight heat of Ethan’s mouth around his cock, Ethan sucking his dick perfectly, swirling his tongue around the head as he comes up, Nick crying out, trying his best to hold off, to wait.

“Ethan, I’m – I - ” he whines, Ethan stopping, quick and elegant as he leans up and kisses Nick’s mouth, “what’s wrong, baby?”

“Let me,” Nick gasps, trying to push Ethan down, “I want to do it to you.”

He does, too, because Ethan’s sweatpants are still on and he needs them off, wants to see Ethan’s dick and taste it in his mouth. Nick loves sucking cock, loves the feel of it in his mouth and the taste of come, and he’s good at it, wants to make Ethan whimper in the way Ethan’s made him shake.

“Yeah? You like sucking dick?” Ethan asks, unyielding, sadly, still looming over Nick and Nick gives up on trying to change their positions, not exactly hating this one, Ethan grabbing his bitten thighs as he attacks Nick’s mouth and neck with his soft lips.

“Yeah,” Nick grins, “of course.”

“Why should I let you suck me off?” Ethan asks, letting Nick’s thighs drop as he keeps Nick pinned down, kissing parts of Nick’s face that Nick doesn’t think anyone has ever kissed, always coming back to his mouth, his neck, moving to his collarbone, shoulder, biting. Nick is going to look like he’s been in a fight. Matt and Chris will have a field day when he finally turns up at home.

“Um, because – I’m great?” Nick asks, frowning, wondering what kind of weirdo turns down a blowjob, and Ethan stops so he can look at Nick, Nick continuing to be bowled over by the way Ethan’s eyes seem to burn into his skin.

“What makes you so great, pretty boy?” Ethan rasps, and Nick brings his nails down Ethan’s back.

“I look good with a cock in my mouth,” Nick teases, “and, after all, you did say I need to make it up to you.”

“You need to, don’t you?” Ethan grins, then moving so that he straddles Nick’s waist, Nick helping him pull down his sweats, Ethan standing briefly to get the fabric off his feet and boxers off before he’s shuffling up, Nick still propped up nicely by the large pillows. Nick attempts to not given Ethan the satisfaction of his astonishment at how large Ethan’s dick is, but he fails.              

“Still feeling confident, baby?” Ethan asks, hand wrapping around his cock as he plays with himself, jerking off, and Nick can’t help but lick his lips in anticipation, nodding, while he’s nervous he’s excited, knowing Ethan’s dick is going to fill him up properly, that he’ll feel the thick head knock at the back of his throat and makes his eyes water. He’s hungry for it. Ethan moves closer, knees over Nick’s shoulder as his big hand plants against the wall and his other hand hangs onto his headboard. Nick opens his mouth, ready for it, desperate for it, but he’s patient, waiting for Ethan’s say so, and Ethan makes slow, deliberate movements, wiping the leaking tip of his cock on Nick’s mouth and his cupid’s bow.

“Good boy for waiting,” Ethan praises, and Nick’s dick jumps, “you can suck it now, baby.”

Nick takes as much as he can, which is over half, but not all of it, and sucks in a hollow motion, moving back up before he forces himself to take every inch, down to Ethan’s balls, and pulls back, spluttering.

“Hey,” Ethan says, taking Nick by the chin, “take it easy, baby, don’t choke.”

“M’sorry,” Nick whispers, embarrassed, wanting to be good, to hear Ethan’s praises once more, and he’s easier with it this time, taking Ethan into his mouth and sucking him properly, rather than racing to get the entire dick inside him, and he can enjoy this, sucking Ethan at a nice, fast pace, but not too fast, getting off to the weight of Ethan’s dick and the smell of him, Ethan silent but present, running his thumbs over Nick’s cheekbones as Nick sucks his dick, happy and contented.

He mewls in protest when Ethan grabs his hair and pulls him off, trying to follow Ethan’s dick, not ready to stop, but Ethan isn’t interested, easily flipping Nick over so he’s face down on the bed. Nick waits as the pillows are wrenched from him, Ethan lifting him like a ragdoll as he puts them under Nick’s hips, Nick’s ass higher than before. Nick’s feels like he’s on fire, his skin aflame, pale but also pink with the heat, and he braces himself for Ethan’s fingers, surprised when Ethan covers him with his own body, kissing his neck.

“You’re so hot,” Ethan growls, mouth on Nick’s jaw, and Nick is sure Ethan is trying to actually eat him, “as soon as I saw you get on that aisle, the first thing I thought was, I want to fuck that boy,” Ethan smiles, Nick moaning as Ethan continues licking him, “saw your ass and thought, I bet he loves riding dick.”

Nick all but whimpers, pushing back, needy, and Ethan shows compassion, bringing his hand past Nick’s waist to curve over Nick’s ass, gripping at his hip.

“Do you? Love riding cock?” Ethan pants.

“Yeah,” Nick says, pushing his ass back to feel Ethan’s dick against it, “want me to ride you?”

“Patience, baby,” Ethan demands, pulling Nick over to kiss him, Nick moving with Ethan, not expecting the disappointed moan when Ethan leaves him, moving down and spreading Nick’s legs further apart. Nick keeps his hands up, mouth open and wet on his left hand, gripping the duvet with his other hand, and he trembles as Ethan spreads his ass open, crying out as he feels Ethan’s thumb tease over his rim, pressing down and ever so slightly inwards, teasing, always.

“I’m not a virgin,” Nick says throatily, hoping Ethan will speed up at that, the way he’s playing with Nick’s ass slow and gentle but mind melting at the same time, and Ethan just laughs at that, slapping Nick’s ass playfully with his other hand.

“I didn’t think you were,” Ethan says, voice loud in the silence of the apartment, “I still wanna take my sweet time.”

Nick whines as Ethan continues to give him something but not everything, loud as Ethan slips and pushes a finger inside of him, Nick stretching his legs, his toes, in a heavenly trance as the man explores him. He feels Ethan move, and then hears the squirt of lube, feels another finger join the first, and he gasps as Ethan scissors them, pulling them to the rim, almost fully out, as his thumb makes the gentlest of scrapes on his perineum, to his balls. Nick moans out on his hand, practically drooling.

He panics as he feels Ethan’s fingers disappear, not wanting this to be over, throwing his head back as he searches for an answer.

“Turn back around, baby,” Ethan insists, not looking at Nick, transfixed on his ass. He immediately obliges, feeling his brain mush and fill with Ethan Ethan Ethan. He feels like it’s been hours but he knows that’s untrue, and he’s ready to beg for it, for Ethan to open him again and slide his big cock inside him, but he doesn’t have to say anything as Ethan spreads him before dipping down. Nick all but screams as Ethan’s tongue licks across the rim of his hole, wet and rough. Nick instinctively tries to move forward, but he can’t; he’s facedown and Ethan’s hands are alternate from his hips to his asscheeks, spreading them again, as he eats Nick out. The rough texture of Ethan���s tongue, the way he presses his big, puffy lips on Nick’s rim is almost enough to make Nick sob. He’s holding it together, just thrusting as much as he can with the pillows underneath him and when he moves his forehead, he notices how sweaty he is, the back of his hands shining.

He yelps as Ethan pushes his tongue inside his hole and brings his hand up to the base of Nick’s spine, pressing his thumb inside of Nick to keep him slightly open. Nick is lost, utterly ruined, shook by how this stranger knows his body better than he does, whining as Ethan keeps his face buried in his ass; not for one-minute hesitating or slowing down as he eats Nick out as passionately as he kisses his mouth.

“I’m – Ethan - ,” he begs, knowing he’s a few well timed thrusts from Ethan’s tongue and fingers away from coming on the pillows beneath him, Ethan pulling his fingers out with a clear, wet pop, removing his tongue too, not before he sinks his teeth into one of Nick’s asscheeks. Nick is wrecked, his body tingling, his thighs burning from Ethan’s sharp teeth, a wetness between his legs like he’s never felt and an ache in his balls that is begging for release.

“You’re perfect,” Ethan assures him, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Nick looking at him longingly over his shoulder, “what do you want, baby?”

“You,” Nick moans, pushing himself back, wanting Ethan’s cock in him, “please, Ethan.”

“Mmm,” Ethan muses, and Nick is pleased to see he’s also hot, pink, sweat linging on his forehead from exertion, Nick yelping as Ethan brings his hand down on Nick’s ass, playful but enough to tan it, “turn around.”

Nick does, fairly weak now and desperate, beyond desperate, for his orgasm to tear through him and leave him blind and gasping. Ethan throws away the pillows carelessly, grabbing Nick’s hips and bringing him down, as he lubes up his dick and presses the head against Nick’s hole. Nick nods, and Ethan begins to push, Nick inhaling, mouth open, as he feels the familiar burn of a nice, thick cock pressing inside of him. Ethan is slow but intense, forcing Nick’s thighs up as he makes his way in, Nick groaning, a little high pitched towards the end when he feels Ethan is fully in. He lets one of Nick’s legs drop, apparently unable to leave Nick’s face or hair alone, before he begins to fuck Nick, gently at first.

“You naughty boy,” Ethan whispers, “is this what you wanted, huh?”

“Yeah,” Nick begs, voice broken, “god, please, give it to me.”

Ethan doesn’t waste time. Nick lets go of any dignity he was hoping to keep, moaning and whimpering with every single thrust Ethan makes. Ethan takes Nick like Nick belongs to him, like this is his right, to spread Nick wide and to fuck him, hips snapping into hips as Ethan clings to him tightly, Nick feeling Ethan’s dick so deep inside him, touching places he’s never felt anyone touch, his vision clouding over.

“Ethan,” Nick sobs, overwhelmed, Ethan slowing down, holding Nick open by his thighs as he pulls his cock out, Nick horrified.

“Ethan! Please! No! I’m sorry, I’m fine, I’m ok, please give it to me,” Nick begs, now losing his self-respect along with his long-gone dignity, feeling on the edge of tears. Ethan can’t leave him like this, can’t bring him to the brink of such pleasure to stop, it’s too cruel, Ethan once again flipping him over so now Nick is on his stomach. He cries out as Ethan slides straight back in, pulling Nick so Nick is on his knees, his upper body stretched out, Ethan’s big hands on both hips, slamming into him, the wet sound of slapping skin obscene alongside Nick’s enthusiastic cries and Ethan’s panting.

Nick is dripping with sweat, sliding off his own arms every time he tries to rest his head, yelping as Ethan yanks him up by his hair.

“Yeah? This what you need, Nick?” he asks, grunting, and Nick moans his agreement, unable to do much else. The forced stretch of his neck is delicious, Ethan not letting his pace drop for a moment, setting a punishing and perfect speed, Nick’s leaking cock a mess as he feels his balls tighten, knowing he’s finally, finally going to lose control and feel that blissful high.

“Want you to come like this,” Ethan says, slapping his ass again, “want you to come from getting fucked.” Nick can’t say anything, can’t even nod, because Ethan’s still pulling his hair as he slams in, quickening his almost reckless pace, Nick only concentrating on that one thing, that one feeling. Ethan is hitting his spot, perfect and fast and desperate and with one last yank of Nick’s hair, he is coming, begging and groaning, babbling a mixture of Ethan and God, blacking out as he does. 

He’s beyond over-stimulated, debauched and destroyed as Ethan follows him, letting go of Nick’s hair to cling onto his hips and fuck him with a few last, sprinting thrusts, Nick gasping as he feels Ethan fill him with come, warm and thick, Ethan crying out loudly as well, collapsing on top of Nick.

“Fuck,” Ethan groans into Nick’s hair, “holy fuck.”

“Yeah,” Nick agrees, still too weak to open his eyes or speak.

Ethan kisses the back of his neck before he pulls out his dick, Nick cringing as he hears the wet sounds, feeling Ethan fall out of him, and he’s mildly disgusted when Ethan rocks back onto his knees, opening Nick’s ass again, looking down at his wet, come filled ass.

“Ethan,” Nick accuses, feeling his face heat up Ethan further, Ethan just smirking, proud of the mess he’s created, Nick sore and sensitive as Ethan plays with him a little, whimpering as he feels some come drip out. Ethan laughs at Nick's embarrassment, leaning over and scrambling around some bedside drawers. Nick gasps as he feels coolness on his ass, Ethan clearly wiping him clean.

Ethan flips back down next to Nick, Nick still curled into the pillow, not shy but very aware of his sweaty, exhausted, fucked-out look. Ethan runs his fingers through red hair, not tugging this time, and he leans in, kissing Nick in a way that betrays his previous rough and ready treatment. Nick responds softly, kissing back.

“You ruined me,” Nick gasps, still numb, and Ethan stifles a giggle, “you ruined me,” he retorts. They lie like this for a few precious minutes, Ethan still excited as he sits up, ruffling his hair before he fishes around for something, Nick half watching out of the corner of his eye when he sees Ethan hold out Nick’s phone like he’s won a prize.

“Unlock it,” Ethan says, handing it to Nick, who does it without question. Ethan scrolls, finding the groupchat

The chat after Ethan sent a photo of himself went into a frenzy, a long conversation between his two friends going about how hot he is.

Ethan giggles at it, and Nick thinks he’s quite beautiful, pretty brown eyes and that sinful mouth and a tongue that Nick wants to feel a thousand times more.

Nick frowns as Ethan types, lazily trying to grab it back but missing entirely.

“What are you typing? Ethan?”

“I’m saying… ‘he’s just been balls deep inside me’,” Ethan cackles, and Nick shoots up at that, grabbing his phone, seeing the exact words sent by ‘Nick’ in the chat.

“Fuck!” he says, “Ethan!”

He settles back down, cringing as he sees the messages from Ethan's first text fly in, making Ethan laugh loudly and Nick cringe but smile all the same.

jacob elordi brainrot

Tara: HOLY FUCKKKK

Larray: u little SLUT

Larray: how big is he?

Tara: NICK FINALLY GOT DICK GUYS IM SO PROUD OF HIMM 😭😭😭

Larray: ANSWER ME RN

Ethan snatches it back, taking Nick by surprised then takes a snap of them, Nick hiding half his face under the duvet, Ethan looking far too pleased with himself.

“You look so cute,” Ethan says, and Nick’s stomach summersaults again, watching Ethan send the picture, waiting for the instant replies.

His phone pinged constantly after the photo was sent, Nick can imagine what kinds of debauchery his two friends are yapping about the situation.

“Your friends are funny,” Ethan laughs, putting the phone aside, and Nick is over his initial embarrassment, especially as Ethan cuddles into him, letting Nick rest in the crook of his neck. He feels Ethan’s arm around him and kisses into his hair so he sneaks an arm around the other, hugging his waist close, enjoying the feel of a smile against his forehead.

“They got me laid, so, yeah, they’re ok,” Nick says into Ethan’s chest, Ethan playing with his hair as he mutters, “they got you completely fucked – ruined – I think you said.”

“Shit, let it go,” Nick teases.

“You’ve had better, baby?” Ethan checks, and Nick wants to lie, to tease, to flirt, but he has no energy and it’s preposterous to think he's had better than this. The sex was magnificent, electric, and Nick is still buzzing from it, wondering if he’ll ever come down from it.

“No,” he says shyly, honestly, “you?”

“No, shit. I thought so, but you were something else,” Ethan praises, and Nick preens under his compliments and praise, flushing from pride rather than embarrassment this time around.

“You’re gonna stay, yeah?” Ethan asks, and Nick assumed he was. It feels natural, being here, like this, with Ethan. Nick nods into Ethan’s chest, and Ethan hugs him tighter, promising they’ll chill and order food later, Nick can stay and they’ll watch films.

“Maybe you can make good on your word later,” Ethan growls, “and ride me, bounce on my dick, huh?”

“I can’t even think about any physical activity right now,” Nick sighs dramatically, Ethan tickling his ear. Nick has his eyes closed but he can feel Ethan’s huge, beautiful smile, the visual of it imprinted in his brain. He’s already thinking about it though, climbing on top of Ethan and sitting back on his dick, rolling his hips.

“Okay, sweetheart,” Ethan said, and Nick snuggles into him, making a mental note to thank his friends when he next sees them. He’s sore but satisfied. All he needs is a nap, some food, and then he thinks he’ll enjoy showing Ethan exactly how good he is.

#nick sturniolo #nick sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo imagine #nick sturniolo fanfiction #nick sturniolo x oc #nick sturniolo x male reader

[songsofadelaide]

Invisible String

cw: female reader, fluff, slice of life, friends to lovers, time skips, no use of yn and instead follows my usual naming convention (I use Otome as a placeholder for yn since it means maiden, which pretty much means yn too), some inaccurate depictions of university life and inaccurate details about air travel between two countries. wc: 6k

Instead of finding a quiet place where he could lament his last days in junior high school in peace, Oikawa Tooru found you. 

Glimpses of your odd relationship with up-and-coming volleyball superstar Oikawa Tooru, starting from your accidental first meeting to defining the very thing that you have.

Instead of finding a quiet place where he could lament his last days in junior high school in peace, Oikawa Tooru found you.

He entered the Literature Club room in a rush, noting it was probably the first one he reached without bursting into tears over the Kitagawa Daiichi Boys' Volleyball Club's recent loss to Shiratorizawa Junior High. The brunette expected the room to be empty, but there you were, startled by the rattling of the door after being so engrossed in your own writing.

You recognised him as the boys' volleyball club captain and the object of affection of many of your female classmates. However, he was hardly the image of grace and elegance on the court at the moment, especially since his face was all red trying to contain his tears. He was just as startled as you were when he realised he wasn't alone in the room.

Your mother once said it was rude to stare at people who were crying, especially if they were trying to hide their tears, so you lowered your head and returned to your scribbling. The door was shut close and you thought he had left, but he walked to the corner of the room and sat still for a few minutes before finally speaking.

"Please don't tell anyone you saw me here."

You fished for something in your bag and approached him, getting down on your knees so you were face-to-face with him.

"My mother told me it's rude to ask people why they're crying, but I figured there's nothing to lose for the both of us since we're on our last leg of junior high. Whatever it is you're weeping about, I'm pretty sure you did your best," you told him before handing him a pack of pocket tissues. "You have nothing to worry about. We won't be seeing each other afterwards, anyway."

He chuckled at you before finally taking the tissues in your hand. "I guess you're right."

You were right for the most part since your paths rarely crossed after that single encounter. Your last days of junior high school went by smoothly and peacefully. The romance anthology you wrote as part of the Literature Club was warmly received by members and readers, one of whom was the graduated captain of the boys' volleyball club.

After the graduation day ceremony, Oikawa approached you outside the gymnasium with his signature megawatt smile, diploma and flowers in hand and his gakuran swept off all its golden buttons.

"Writer-chan!"

"It's actually Otome," you replied with your name as you turned to face him. "But not that it matters now. Congratulations."

"Of course it does! Congratulations as well!"

He gently snipped the button on the left sleeve of his gakuran and handed it to you. "Thank you, friend, for reaching out to me back then."

Friend, he said. You were practically strangers with a shared secret, but you indulged him, seeing as you won't be seeing him again, after all. You took the single button from his palm with a smile. "You're welcome, friend."

You likened him to the ocean's waves— refreshing, but always coming and going. Waves weren't meant to stay in one place for so long, so you saw no point in needlessly wading in the cool waters.

I don't want to drown, after all, you thought to yourself.

Oikawa had the most bewildered look on his face when you bumped into each other on your first week of senior high school at Aoba Johsai and you knew you looked just as surprised by the encounter.

"It's writer-chan!" He greeted you with his most pleasant smile. "And here I thought we'd never see each other again!"

He made it a point for the two of you to exchange contact details, saying something about how the gods of fate must definitely want you to have something to do with each other. A brooding figure approached from behind him, brows knotted as he pushed the taller boy who still had your cell phone in his hands. You recognised him as Oikawa's wing spiker from Kitagawa Daichi as well as his closest friend.

"The hell are you doing picking up girls in the middle of the hallway, Trashykawa?" Iwaizumi Hajime barked at him, prompting him to hand back your phone to you.

"I'm not picking her up, Iwa-chan! She's from Kitaichi! My friend from the Literature Club!" The taller brunet whined. "Don't mind him, Otome-chan. He probably woke up on the wrong side of the— Ow!"

"You can talk later. We're gonna be late for our tryouts," Iwaizumi stated before nudging him forward on his feet.

"We'll see you around, Otome-chan!" Oikawa waved back at you as they made their way to the school gymnasium. Iwaizumi managed a small nod at you before turning to reprimand the setter for holding them up.

Throughout your high school life, you couldn't count how many times you sharply dismissed the gossip surrounding your odd friendship with the boys' volleyball club setter, who rose to become the team captain in your third year. Oikawa's keen-eyed watchers found him occasionally dropping by the Literature Club for no apparent reason other than to talk to you. Those rumours were quickly shut down when he was spotted with a different girl in his arm— a classmate of yours, the kind of girl you'd want to do things for because of her charming face and personality. You didn't find it that surprising at all. In fact, they looked really good together.

You paid no mind to the fact that he was purposely ignoring you now whenever you passed by each other in the hallways. Not that you ever made the initiative to greet him first, but there were times when you looked at him rather expectantly and he would just avert his gaze. Iwaizumi told you that it wasn't just you Oikawa was avoiding, but basically the whole female student body. You realised that the whole thing was probably orchestrated by his girlfriend.

Typical. He's not one to do things half-heartedly, you thought to yourself. So once again, I'm not surprised.

When you met each other outside of school for the first time in such a long time, you learned to finally grow indifferent to him that you didn't even know what to say to him when he greeted you with one of his dazzling smiles. Oikawa perked up when he spotted you picking up your little sibling, who was one of his students at the local Lil'Tykes Volleyball classes he taught at during his downtime.

"It's Otome-chan!" He called out rather happily, but you coolly turned away and took your younger sibling's hand to make way for home. You heard him choke at your reaction. "O-Otome-chan! Are you ignoring me?!"

"Oh, are we on speaking terms again?" You asked him, pausing on your tracks and merely looking over your shoulder. "Or is it just because we aren't at school?"

Oikawa's young nephew Takeru had dragged your sibling away to practice more tosses with his own volleyball when he realised that his uncle would be held up in a conversation. The tall boy looked rather apologetic before raking a hand through his dark hair. "Ugh. I'm so sorry. I've been a real jerk to you, I know. But there's nothing to worry about now. I—"

"I think the last thing you need right now is a distraction, Oikawa-san," you replied to him, his expression changing once again as you called him by his last name and not how you usually did. "And your girlfriend did a pretty good job clearing your way. It's all right, though. I'm not even a threat to her and yet—"

"We broke up."

"…What?"

Long arms were crossed over his chest now, his immaculately white track jacket crinkling underneath the motion. "W-Well, of course, I won't admit to just anyone that she was the one who ended things because she didn't like how much time I spent playing volleyball. But she should've known that the sport was part of…"

You really didn't pay any more attention to his explanation, but the incredulous look on your face completely gave away your thoughts, because, fuck, the audacity of that bitch—

"I know I should've decided things for myself and I should've listened to Iwa-chan, Mattsun and Makki when they were pointing out all the red flags. Gosh, I still feel so awful about it. I didn't like having to avoid you when there was so much I wanted to talk to you about."

The two of you stood there in silence, the children's laughter and the cool morning breeze filling in the void after he had finished talking.

"Is…" You had grabbed fistfuls of your skirt that was fluttering in the wind, hands shaking as you tried to think of the right words to say. "Is that all?"

"Y-Yeah…" he replied rather uneasily as he saw your fists shuddering rather angrily. He took a step forward toward you and reached out for your balled fists, gently soothing them to loosen your grip before placing one of your palms over his chest rather dramatically. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry. And I have to admit, seeing you look at me so indifferently hurts my heart!"

"Wh— Tooru-kun, stop!" You snatched your hand away from his warm grip only for him to pull you closer.

"You called me Tooru-kun! Ah, I'm so happy!" He beamed at you, gently letting you go and finally beckoning his nephew to join him. "Anyway, I won't hold you and your sibling up any longer. Let's talk after club! Bye-bye!"

True to his word, Oikawa arrived at the Literature Club room days later, his boisterous entrance startling you so much that it could only mean he did it on purpose.

"Drama just loves me, doesn't it?" He chuckled, taking a vacant seat to sit across from you like he always does whenever he comes to see you. "And do you never run out of things to write about, Otome-chan?"

"There's always something interesting happening around me," you replied, not even bothering to look up at him after he surprised you just moments ago. He had brought out his cell phone, mindlessly scrolling through his social media since he couldn't think of anything else to ask you. The quiet was finally broken when he placed his phone on your desk, most likely bored stiff and stifled by the silence of the whole club room.

"If we had dated instead, you wouldn't mind me spending most of my time training, isn't that right, Otome-chan?"

You were both shocked by the snapping of your mechanical pencil's lead against your notebook. His eyes widened as you looked up him, red-faced and rendered speechless. You were sure you looked like a fucking doe in the headlights, even more so when you saw his lips quiver to a small delighted smile.

"Wh-What?! D-Don't talk about that kind of stuff, Trashykawa!"

"Did you just hear yourself?! You sound just like Iwa-chan now!" The smile melted into a pout. "Is dating me such a bad idea for you? I'm so hurt, Otome-chan!"

"You should hear yourself! Spouting all this nonsense about d-dating…" you slid your notebook away from you and accidentally nudged his phone off the desk, which you both hurriedly tried to catch, your hands and fingers tangling midair as you caught the object. A sigh left your lips as you straightened your back. "You can let go of me now, Tooru-kun."

"Let me hold you for a bit, Otome-chan," he told you, scooting over much closer to where you sat. "May I?"

"Wait, what do you mean hold—"

Oikawa was six feet tall and surprisingly sturdy despite his elegant, slender appearance. He rested part of his weight on you when he pulled you into an embrace, long arms gently coiling around your waist.

"T-Tooru-kun?" You squeaked at him, slipping your arms under his to return his embrace. "Is everything all right?…"

"Is it unpleasant?" He asked you, his voice reverberating through your chest. You shook your head, your hair brushing against his cheek. "Good. Because I'd like to do this again."

When he finally pulled away, he laughed at your burning face so much that he almost fell off his seat. It took every bit of your energy to kick him out of the Literature Club room, his laughter ringing throughout the school's empty halls.

From then on, you became each other's warm bodies, but nothing more than that. Commitment was something you couldn't ask from each other, too, especially from him, who had a future in the game in the long run. You would be nothing but a distraction. In turn, he worked to make sure your anthologies were well-received by the student body.

Holding onto even the smallest sliver of hope was emotional suicide, but you can't count how many times you had to save yourself from drowning in the coldness of the deep blue sea that was Oikawa Tooru. You didn't even know if you were still breathing after that.

You couldn't help but find the whole thing nostalgic. The red-faced Oikawa finding you scribbling away in the Literature Club room in the wake of their loss to Shiratorizawa just mere months away from high school graduation. He had told you beforehand of his plans to migrate to South America following recommendations by the boys' volleyball club's elderly Coach Irihata and you had congratulated him for it.

Still in his club tracksuit, he made his way to where you were and wordlessly grabbed a seat, observing you in silence before finally speaking.

"I'm not coming back until I've finally become the player I want to be," he stated, sitting across you as you continued your writing. He changed his tone into a more playful one, the kind he used whenever he was teasing people. "Won't you feel even a bit sad that I'll be leaving, Otome-chan?"

The ocean waves once merely splashing at your feet had become a whole tidal wave and it threatened to drown you now.

You paused from your writing and looked up at him. "Shall we grab a drink?"

Most of the students had already left the campus at that time, so you had no trouble walking around school with him. The last thing you wanted was to be seen with him and have your entire relationship questioned when even you had no answers for yourself.

"I won't be sad when you leave, Tooru-kun," you told him, eyes on the setting sun as you sipped on your milk box. "You're pursuing your dreams and I am elated at the prospect of what kind of player you'll be in the future. The world is in your hands. You have only to grasp it now."

On your way back to the Literature Club room, he was chattering about his prospective successors to the volleyball club's captaincy. The two of you ended up leaning on the club window, figures drowned in the colours of dusk as your conversation slowly died out. You stood there in complete silence, a feeling of contentment washing over you as you turned to smile at him.

"I await the day I see you on the world's centre stage."

Oikawa smiled back at you tenderly— a small one he usually reserved for moments such as this. "And I await the day I finally get my hands on a real novel written by you."

"I'm not sure how we'll make that happen since you'll be moving far away," you replied with a chuckle. "I guess we'll figure something out when it's here."

"Thank you, dearest friend," he gave you a short bow, a hand on his chest as he met your gaze again once again. "Because of you, I never lost my heart."

You've seen different parts of him throughout the years you've been called his cherished friend, but you never really had a clue about what was going on in his head even as he laid his words bare. He leaned down and brushed a kiss on your cheek, surprised by the tears that fell from your eyes. You've both come to realise that your emotions betrayed your words and there was nothing you could do to take it back.

I swam too far from the shore, you told yourself that night. It's painful, but at least I know I'm alive.

When graduation day came once again, he had no golden button to give you, just a promise that he would keep in touch with you even as he left Japan. You barely had the chance to talk to him on that day since he was surrounded by his kouhais from the volleyball club, along with other wide-eyed admirers who were keen to get their final presents to him.

"Hey, Otome-chan! Get over here!" You heard him call out to you, beckoning you to come over to where he was. Iwaizumi was holding a mobile phone and was ready to do his best friend a favour. "We need a commemorative photo!"

That same photo sat at your desk in your little studio apartment for years to come.

Oikawa had kept his promise to you and his friends and kept in contact so frequently that you'd mistake him for having so much time in his hands. The calls were sparse, but the messages came nearly every day, even with a 12-hour time difference between the two of you.

When you told him about how you were unable to finish your college degree at Miyagi Gakuin Women's University after the vast collection of anthologies you wrote back in high school was discovered by a local publisher, he called you the soonest he could and asked how you felt.

"As long as you're doing what you love and pursuing what your heart's telling you," you recall him saying with a low voice, one you haven't heard in such a long time that it rendered you to tears. "I'll continue supporting you, Otome-chan. You have all of my support!"

The local publisher was so enamoured with your juvenile work that they asked you to write something completely new for them, assigning one of their best editors to you to keep you grounded as you worked. Somehow you couldn't quite point out if this was one great stroke of good luck or a damn honeytrap you can't walk away from anymore. Yes, you stopped college halfway to start writing novels, just like what you dreamed of before, writing alone in your high school club room. It was happening way too soon.

You were rarely asked to come by to the publishing house, but you were often in contact with your editor, whom you missed a call from since you were making coffee for yourself while working on a new story draft. The last one had just left your hands earlier this week and you didn't expect to hear anything about it for quite a while, so you called him back to confirm if everything was all right.

"Hello, Tatara-san. Is there something wrong?"

"Otome-san, I don't know what to say, to be honest. But, ah, anyway, now isn't the time to lose my composure. I have great news for you."

You nearly dropped your cup of coffee when you heard that your last draft would be published into a book. "Are you for real?!"

The poignant novel you slaved over for days and nights to years, Two Silver Moons, would be published by the end of the year, just in time for Christmas. You would have to be there during the whole process, but the publishing house guaranteed you a break afterwards, unexpectedly given but greatly welcomed. You thought of visiting your family in time for the new year, but you remembered that your parents were out on their own little cruise around the world.

The options you had were pretty close by until you received a reply from Oikawa, who was most likely in the middle of his club training.

[ O. Tooru-選手: I'm so happy for you, Otome-chan! Congratulations! (≧▽≦) ]

You never left Sendai for most of your life, but you took off at the first sign of a break, much to the chagrin of your editor, who helped you update your passport, book your flights and tickets, book the hotel where you would be staying and even mentally prepared you for the different kind of culture you'd experience. Two weeks was long enough, you recall him telling you. You both lamented the fact that you burned out nearly a quarter of what you earned from your first novel's publication for this little excursion of yours, but you figured it was something you could earn back with another book or two.

Your last message to Oikawa was back from the new year. Turning to your wristwatch, you estimated what time it would be in Argentina before determining that you'd receive a reply.

[ YN: Say, how long is a flight from Tokyo to San Juan? ]

[ O. Tooru-選手: You wouldn't want to know. ]

[ YN: But what if I do? ]

[ O. Tooru-選手: Otome-chan! Don't tell me you plan on coming here! (☉∀☉) ]

You laughed to yourself, pulling your luggage close to you as you stood in line at the Narita Airport boarding area, passport and boarding pass in the other hand.

[ YN: I'll see you soon, Tooru-kun. ]

[ O. Tooru-選手: Please, if you're just saying all of this, just stop. You're gonna disappoint me. (ᗒᗩᗕ) ]

[ YN: Have to check in my luggage. I'll message you when I'm in France. ]

[ O. Tooru-選手: Oh my gosh, Otome-chan! If I arrive at Ezeiza Airport and you're not there, you can forget that we're friends! ]

It was only when you got on the plane and had to sit for nearly 13 hours that you realised how far spread out the whole world really is. Sendai was but a speck of dust from your view above the clouds, but it will always be home to you. You brought out your tiny notepad and started scribbling about a flight situation you could incorporate in your next story as you passed the time.

The wait will be worth it, you convinced yourself. I've waited for so long to be able to swim in your presence again. What's another 34 hours in air?

There was a 7-hour layover which quickly passed by for you as you kept yourself engrossed in your writing. Something about Parisian coffee made your heart race a bit quicker than normal and it made all the wheels in your head turn non-stop until you realised you burned through nearly half of your notepad. You pocketed the coffee-stained paper napkins that held more of your writing and folded it neatly enough with shaking fingers to fit it on your tiny notepad. The last hour of the layover was spent freshening up and changing into a new blouse, as well as counting all the tiles your eyes could take in from where you sat. You decided against having coffee in Argentina because of the havoc it wrecked over your body.

[ O. Tooru-選手: Otome-chan, are you about to board your flight to here? Take care and don't forget to stretch around! ヽ(*・ω・)ﾉ ]

[ YN: You sent a photo. ]

It was a blurry, crazy, hair-in-face kind of selfie that you usually reserved for your parents and siblings. If there was such a thing as coffee-drunk, it was definitely happening to you. You were glad the caffeine finally died out mid-flight and you spent the remaining seven hours asleep. You practically had no sense of time when you boarded off the plane from France, but your entire being was shaken awake when you spotted the tall setter with a little placard that had your name on it in his hands. Oikawa, who was in a bright red shirt and khaki chino shorts, broke into a smile when he spotted you.

"Yohoo! Otome-chan!"

"T—" You stammered, far too excited to meet his embrace that you ended up slipping face first across the Ezeiza Airport terminal, eliciting shocked gasps from onlookers and people passing by. It took you a solid minute to get up before grumbling to yourself. "Ahh, what the fuck, self?"

Oikawa laughed and everything felt better all of a sudden. He was down on his left knee to check if you were all right. "You seem fine."

"I am!" You told him, finally raising your eyes to meet his gaze. "I'm totally fine."

"Ah, that's good!" He stated, a hand on his chest as he breathed a sigh of relief. "Well, let's go! We have another plane to catch, don't we?"

"Ack! I didn't know that you had to fly here!" You exclaimed apologetically, finally getting up on your feet as he pulled you up with him. "I'll, uh, pay for your next flight! Or something!"

"Don't worry about me, Otome-chan! It's been a while since I've had a visitor here, so I'm rather thrilled! I've been granted a tiny break by my club since you've gone through lengths to see me. For now, let's get some of your yen changed into pesos."

He chuckled to himself as you both stood before the money changer, hearing him comment about how it's been so long since he last saw and held yen in his hands. He looked rather shocked at the amount you brought with you, not entirely sure if he should return the money to you. "Otome-chan! You brought way too much! Are you planning to buy the whole province of San Juan or something?"

"Tatara-san— My editor told me it was better to bring extra than to find myself short on funds," you turned to him, wringing your fingers in worry. "Maybe keep it for me for the meantime?"

"Gladly! Consider me your tour guide, body guard, accountant— what else?" He said thoughtfully, slipping the rolls of Argentine pesos in his tiny body bag before taking your hand in his. "The next time you make a trip like this, at least tell me beforehand. We can always meet halfway instead of you just coming all the way here to see me."

"But it was me who wanted to see you," you replied, looking up at him. He was searching for the Aerolineas Argentinas ticket office.

"All right, so we book same-day flights, two hours to Mendoza Airport, and finally catch a bus to the city. Pretty sure I didn't miss anything," he counted with his fingers. "If my estimates are correct, we'll arrive at around 18:00 to 18:30, just in time to grab some dinner. Or maybe you want some coffee?"

"No coffee," you waved your hand over your face. "Parisian coffee drove me nuts while I was in France. I'd like to be able to sleep later, please."

You were able to sleep during your two-hour flight, your slumber abruptly interrupted when the captain announced your descent to San Juan. Of course you apologised profusely for accidentally drooling on Oikawa's sleeve.

"Ugh. I didn't know you had to travel so far to pick me up from Buenos Aires. I'm so sorry, Tooru-k—"

"Hush now, Otome-chan," he presented your bus tickets to the conductor before pulling you up with him. "If you're really sorry, just promise me we'll have a lot of fun while you're here. And besides, what's a little travelling when I get to spend time with you?"

The five-hour-long bus ride passed by in a flash as Oikawa pointed at every significant landmark he could identify on the road, while you had your tiny notepad in your hands again to jot down shaky phrases, listening closely to how he pronounced the foreign names and words.

You felt like you were floating in the middle of a calm ocean, the afternoon sun beating over your skin as you let yourself be carried away by the waves.

He chose to have dinner at a little place called Soychu, which specialised in vegetarian meals. It was also near the hotel your editor booked for you. Oikawa, who considered this place his home for the last two years, seemed rather amused at the way your head whipped around at every curious sound you heard.

"San Juan isn't as colourful as Buenos Aires, but it has its own charms," he told you, placing a serving of provoleta on your plate. "We'll have a lot of time to explore tomorrow, so you should rest up after such a long flight."

And you were indeed charmed by the city's nightlife— jet lag quickly replaced by sensory overload as you tried to take in everything you laid your eyes on and everything you heard— lights reflecting from the restaurant windows, a cool evening breeze and the odd stranger greeting a friend in a language you had no idea about. Even the restaurant you were in captured your heart in a way you can't put in to words.

"Departamento en San Juan?" You read the booking made by your editor a few weeks back as you stood outside the apartment premises. "Is that right?"

"Yeah, this is it. Wait a moment, I'll confirm your booking," he said as he entered the premises to greet the receptionist. "¡Buenas noche! Mi querida reservo una cuarto…"

You honestly had no idea what he was telling the middle-aged receptionist who gave you a short glance before turning to her log book. His Spanish was really good and you were sure he wasn't selling you out to a murderer, at least, seeing how the lady smiled at you. She turned around to grab the keys to your lodging for the next two weeks and threw out something that sounded like a question. "¿Te quedaras tambien?"

Oikawa chuckled, understanding what it meant. He turned to you with a smile as he was handed the keys. "Ya veremos."

The cream-coloured apartment room had a single king-sized bed in the only bedroom, a wide kitchen space, a clean bathroom with a heated shower and a tiny balcony that overlooked the lighted cobblestone street they walked earlier.

"All right, everything looks good to me," he walked out of the bathroom, which was the last place he checked after making his rounds in the space you'll be living in for the next two weeks. "I'll leave you to rest and unpack, Otome-chan. The Wi-fi password is on the refrigerator. And don't you worry about your money because I won't go running away with it! Message me tomorrow, all right?"

He was just about to take his leave, hand already on the door when you stopped him midway, gently pulling at the hem of his red shirt. "T-Tooru-kun, wait a moment. I… I, uh…"

The words didn't come out easily. You weren't just about ready to part ways with him just yet and you needed to let him know.

"Otome," he started, dropping the honorific from your name for the first time. He raised his hand and brushed cool knuckles over your warm cheek before finally tipping your chin so your eyes would meet. "I don't quite understand what it is you're trying to tell me."

He was teasing you.

I want to drown, your mind screamed at you. I want to drown in you.

"I'm… not really that ready to let you go. I, uh… C-Can you stay here? Just for tonight, i-if it's all right. I just—"

He caught your quivering lips in his as he leaned down to kiss you and you felt all of your resolve crumble so easily just as you did in his arms. You threw your arms around his neck and willed yourself not to shed a single tear now. There was no clumsy fumbling out of your clothes as you were swept away to the bedroom, only the rapid thumping of your heart against his chest and his warm hands all over you— touching you so softly, gently, kindly— making you cry even though you swore to yourself that you wouldn't.

"Don't cry, Otome," he breathed over you, brushing a kiss on your cheek as he coiled his arms around you. "I'm sorry—"

"Don't—" You raised your hands to cup his face, softly grazing your thumb over his lips. "…Don't apologise now."

He obliged and saved the apologies for tomorrow or another day. Now wasn't the time for any of that at all. Not when you've waited for him to hold you like this for so long.

You have nothing to be sorry for, Tooru. I wanted to swim so I dove in.

If there was one thing you were sure about, it was already morning. The light from your window said so, at least. You blinked away your bleary vision and tried to move, only to find an arm draped over your figure. Your back. Wait, am I naked? Don't tell me we—

A head of tousled dark hair was asleep beside you, the morning sun beating on his naked and toned back.

Oikawa Tooru.

He groaned in his sleep before moving closer and pulling you in his arms, your cheek gently colliding with his chest, the steady beating of his heart enough to pacify your thoughts. It didn't take long for him to stir and finally awaken, planting a tender kiss on the crown of your head.

"Look at you," he stated, eyes disappearing as he beamed at you. "You've grown much lovelier. Can't believe it took me this long to tell you."

"Good morning, Tooru," you smiled back at him, warm hands on his face. You brushed away the hair stuck on his forehead.

"Oh, right! Now that we're here, would you please do me the favour?"

You sat up with him, stretching your arms while he reached for his tiny body bag on the bedside table right next to him. He pulled out a copy of Two Silver Moons and handed it to you.

"You—" your fingers curled around the book, flipping through the pages in complete disbelief. "How?…"

"Come now! Did you really think I'd miss out on the golden opportunity of grabbing a copy of your first novel?" He waved a hand, an obviously pleased smile on his face. "I pulled a few strings here and there, but it's the real deal, isn't it? Will you sign it for me?"

"Tooru, I—" To both your surprise, you still had more tears to cry. "Y-You really went out of your way for this. You really care this much—"

"Why on earth would I not care about you, Otome?" He stated, moving in to kiss your forehead. "You're so precious to me."

He could sense the apprehension you were feeling and he couldn't blame you for it. The two of you danced around each other's feelings even since you were both young, neither having an idea of what the other truly was to them. He had an answer to that now.

"There's a thing they call people like us," he said, taking one of your hands in his. "We are lovers, are we not?"

Lovers.

Oh, the word felt absolutely foreign to you before because you had absolutely no idea what you were. It sounded so much pleasant to you both now. You smiled at him and his knotted brows disappeared.

"Yes, I believe we are."

"Ah, that's a relief. I thought you wouldn't agree with me," he sighed, obviously relieved by your reply. "So where do you want to go today, querida? What are you writing about? We can go to the Leoncito Astronomical Complex. Or the Museo Provincial de Bellas Artes Franklin Rawson. There's also the San Guillermo National Park. Ischigualasto Provincial Park. I can go on and on, you know."

"You lead the way, leaderman," you said with a chuckle as you reached for a pen on the bedside table. You jotted down a message on the front page of his book.

'To Oikawa Tooru-senshu. Thank you for your love and support! Likewise, you will always have mine. I love you. ♡'

Regardless of the time and distance you've spent apart, you find yourselves gravitating back towards each other, hearts bound by an unseen force you both finally had the right word for.

The conversation Tooru had with the lady receptionist went pretty much like this:

T: Good evening! My darling (could also be dear, dearest) reserved a room... R: Will you stay too? T: *laughs* We'll see.

Author's Notes: This is from my older haikyuu series Dreams of Fire Trees and Silver Moons on AO3. I suddenly remembered this fic and how dramatic it was when I saw this on X. Oikawa is truly one of the prettiest boys in hq and you can quote me on that lol.

#songsofadelaidewrites💛 #mari's archive 🌴 #haikyuu #haikyu x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #hq fluff #oikawa tooru #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa x reader #tooru oikawa #oikawa x y/n #oikawa x you

[bluecollarmcandtf]

Special Delivery

"Babe! He's here!" I yell to my husband. Peaking between the blinds, I study the delivery worker as he comes up the driveway.

His name is Michael, and he's a bit of a local celebrity on our street. Just about every housewife in the neighborhood savors the arrival of his big delivery truck, and none of them hesitate to fetch him water or a snack.

He of course indulges the women, but Michael never wastes time at our house.

"Really!" my husband calls back, "Let me see."

Together we study the shredded delivery guy as he marches towards our front door.

"He always looks angry," my partner notices.

"Only when he's at our house, babe," I remind him, "I can get the door."

"No, I can get it."

We squabble over who's going to greet the delivery man until the doorbell rings and we open it together. I'll admit, we may have appeared a little eager when he finally saw us.

"Package," he grunts, barely looking our way.

"Thank you!" I reply cheerily, "It's a hot day. I can get you some water."

"No," he looks a bit disgusted by the offer.

"You sure?" my husband adds.

"Yes, I'm sure!" Michael's veins bulge, "I wouldn't accept anything from you! Pathetic excuses for men."

After aggressively throwing our package to the floor, he stomps off, back to his delivery truck.

"That was rude," I'm at a lack for words, "I guess you really never know a guy."

I turn to see my husband's pleading eyes.

"Can I?" he asks.

"Definitely."

His irises roll into the back of his head as his consciousness leaves his body. I catch him before he falls and begin dragging his limp frame towards the sofa. I'm a bit of a scrawny guy so I only manage to move him a few feet.

"Could I help you with that, sir?" I hear a deep voice ask.

Michael is back, only this time, he's smiling brilliantly and posing with his arms on his waist like he's some cheesy superhero.

"Thank you!" I cry as Michael effortlessly picks up my husband and gently lays him across the couch.

"Just doing my job, sir," he reports with a mockingly deep voice, "It's a good thing your hubbie is unconscious right now. I wouldn't want him seeing what I'm about to do to you."

"Stop goofing around, babe," I chuckle.

"I'm not goofing around," my husband exaggerates through Michael's voice, "I'm the big, strong delivery guy. I wear tight shirts and put on a show while I deliver your mail!"

He pairs each word with a new flexing pose.

"Now, about that glass of water, sir," Michael purrs, stepping so close to me that I almost fall back, "This boy is thirsty, and only you have what I need to quench it."

I almost collapse, but my husband quickly grabs me and cradles me in Michael's bulging arms.

A couple hours later, after we'd thoroughly explored our delivery man's body, we got dressed and went out to the park. My husband found the skimpiest outfit to stretch over Michael's ridiculously defined muscles.

"People are staring," I whisper.

"Let them stare," Michael loudly announces, "I don't care if they see me. I'm just a bottom slut out on a stroll with his boyfriend."

I can't help but chuckle as my husband laughs with Michael's mouth. I doubt such words have ever escaped the delivery man's lips.

"Michael?" a confused voice calls behind us.

Turning we find a group of similarly athletic men tossing a football around.

"I thought you were working?" the worried athlete asks, "And what are you wearing?"

"I wear whatever he wants," Michael throws a heavy arm around me, "If you'll excuse me, he doesn't like it when I go too long without physical contact."

My husband turns and plants a big smooch on my lips with Michael's mouth, pulling away only to whisper, "Slap my ass! I think that'll really blow their minds."

We continue our passionate display of affection for awhile while I aggressively grope Michael's muscle butt beneath his tiny shorts. His former friends eventually leave the park, muttering insults his way. Meanwhile I lose myself further in the paradise that is our delivery man's homophobic mouth.

My date with Michael has been fun, but I'm ultimately much happier to return home to my husband, leaving the delivery man scantily clad and confused in the middle of the park.

I doubt he'll get fired. Guys like him can usually talk their way out of consequences, so maybe he'll be a little more respectful the next time he delivers us a package.

#mind control #gay hypnosis #hypno story #male transformation #male body swap #body suit #gay possession #bodyswapper

[misshoneyimhome]

You couldn't understand why he was so insistent on this. Was it because he was jealous or was there some other reason driving him to push you to your limits? He seemed to enjoy every moment of it, even when you were exhausted and begging for a break. But you were helpless, at his mercy, and all you could do was obey as he continued to ravage you without mercy. You didn't know what had gotten into him. It was becoming clear that his desire was insatiable. Based on William running into inexperienced reader’s ex or another players comment sparked his breeding and stomach bulge kink 🍆#SlutsforPresidentNylander

Oh, I'm terribly sorry, bb! It took me much longer than expected to post this 🤍 But I believe I've finally got it sorted 🤞🏼

To be honest, I wasn't sure where this was heading, as I wasn't entirely sure I was ready for a breeding kink, but I decided to go with it and hopefully, it turned out well enough for you 🙃

Additionally, I've combined it with this request too 🤍

[I have no idea whether sports journalists would genuinely ask such questions, but for the sake of the story, let's assume they would 😉 After all, the media works in mysterious ways]

Warnings: 18+ smut; penetrative sex (p in v); cum inside; use of blindfold, anal toy, light bondage, light spanking; use of safe word; more penetrative sex (p in v); more cum inside - Trigger Warning: Reader expresses desire to slow down, but William does not acknowledge/hear it (🌶️);

Word count; 6.8K 🤦🏼‍♀️

「Inexperienced!reader x Willy」

The dress (in case you are interested)🥂

"du är min prinsessa" = you are my princess

・✶ ｡ﾟ

All good boys go to heaven - But bad boys bring heaven to you pt VII I William Nylander 🖋️⚡️(🌶️)

Waking up in William’s arms was quickly becoming your favourite thing in the world.

Every day, you found solace with him, momentarily forgetting about the outside world until your alarm rudely interrupted the tranquillity for the second time.

Meanwhile, your snoozing boyfriend could easily roll over and continue sleeping while you had to face the day ahead at work.

And as you switched on the dim light of your bedside lamp, you couldn’t help but admire his well-defined physique. He was incredibly handsome, and the fact that he was your boyfriend made it all the better. Everything felt perfect, almost too perfect, which tended to spark a small sense of fear within you. Was your relationship too good to be true?

William seemed flawless in every aspect. He was attractive, admired by many friends, had a large, supportive family, excelled in his career, and, most of all, he had a laid-back attitude towards life, cherishing every moment without worrying excessively.

This was in stark contrast to your own nature.

You often found yourself worrying, perhaps more than necessary. Though you didn’t constantly dwell on it, there were moments throughout the day when you questioned what William saw in you. Was it solely because of the incredible sex you shared? Or perhaps because you were the only girl who hadn't thrown herself at him, which intrigued him?

Regardless, these thoughts persisted, despite William's daily affirmations of love.

But shaking your head, you prepared for the day's work, which thankfully would be brief, as you also needed to prepare to meet William later for the gala - an event that made you rather nervous since you'd never attended one before.

Fortunately, the other partners had been incredibly helpful. Amanda and Sanna had eagerly assisted in selecting a dress and making you feel comfortable for the event. Although the gala didn't require much public participation from the partners, you still wanted to feel confident and elegant as you mingled with the important figures of MLSE. You simply wanted William to feel proud to have you by his side.

And indeed, William was proud of you. Something he hadn’t quite felt about his exes. But how could he not be?

Your appearance was breath-taking as his date for the night. Your long, black, glittery dress accentuated your figure, complemented by heels that added to your elegance. Your jewelleries sparkled almost as brightly as your eyes, which were beautifully enhanced by your makeup.

It was undeniable that you took his breath away with your appearance, and he wasn't the only one who noticed. Nearly everyone at the event had something to say about how stunning you looked; girls admired your dress and makeup, and even a few managers greeted you with compliments.

He almost felt guilty for feeling like he was showing you off, akin to how he used to feel as a teenager with his new hockey sticks. Though didn't intend to objectify you, he just couldn't help but revel in having you by his side, with his arms around your waist.

"Wow y/n, you've really outdone yourself tonight," Auston remarked as he approached you and William before another round of Blackjack.

"Thanks, Auston," you replied with a smile. "Although I thought you might have made a bit more effort yourself," you teased.

"What do you mean? Don't I always look amazing?" Auston chuckled confidently.

"Well, of course, you always look absolutely dashing," you playfully remarked, adding a hint of sarcasm as you rolled your eyes. And Auston simply laughed at your banter.

You could practically sense William's smug expression from the corner of your eye as you conversed with the other forwarder, noticing how pleased he was with the compliments you received. After all, you were his date.

And William did wear a confident smirk as you interacted with his teammates, particularly when you spoke with players like Auston. Though it wasn't that William disliked his teammate; he just recognised Auston's penchant for charming girls, and his almost flirty remarks toward you only bolstered William's confidence further.

William even suspected that Auston might have harboured a slight crush on you from the beginning but never acted on it, and perhaps now he was slightly regretting it. However, William had no regrets. Instead, he cherished the chance to flirt with you, share intimate moments, and experience the best times with you. Not only sexually, but you had also become an incredible girlfriend, with whom he now shared his home. You were unlike any other girls he had dated before - at least, he had never felt for them the way he felt for you. With you, commitment felt natural, without any hesitation or reluctance to leave behind his bachelor lifestyle.

And as he stood there, admiring you engaging in lively conversations amidst the blue and white lights, drifting away from the rest of the company, he was suddenly brought back to reality.

"Hey Willy, want to join us for a game?" Mo asked.

William shook his head to refocus. "Oh, yeah, sure... Um, I just need my—"

In his confusion, he searched his pockets, but you intervened with a chuckle, handing him the glasses he was looking for.

"Here you go, baby," you said with a content smile, knowing that he had forgotten them, and you were there to save the day.

"Oh, thanks, älskling," he smiled, putting on the glasses to better see the cards in the dim lighting.

"No problem, that's what I'm here for," you chuckled, giving him a brief kiss on the cheek. "You'd probably lose your pretty head if it wasn't attached to your neck," you continued the playful banter, and the guys joined in on the laughter.

"See that, Willy?" Mo chimed in. "That's wifey material, just saying."

And with laughter, the boys turned to sit at the casino table to play a round of blackjack.

Then for the rest of the evening, you simply enjoyed yourself with the other dates who had come tonight. Not all the significant others had chosen to join, so the few of you just had a wonderful time together.

However, while still keeping an eye on you throughout the night, William’s mind couldn’t help but wander into untouched waters, prompted by Mo’s comment earlier – ‘wifey material.’ 

It actually sounded pretty good in his head, even though it wasn’t really something he’d ever thought much about - probably because he hadn’t ever thought he’d have the chance to think in these directions. Although he’d seen several of his teammates form families, he himself had mostly just focused on his career and enjoyed the single life. 

But now that he had you and was certain he never wanted to let you go, the notion of a more serious commitment slowly began to take root in his mind.

But again, William's thoughts were interrupted by the company around him. 

**

However, the following day, William still couldn't shake the thought of what had been mentioned the previous night amidst the blue and white lights. Mo's comment about you being his future wife had inexplicably sparked the idea of starting a family in William's mind.

Although neither of you were anywhere near ready to start a family or even consider it seriously, William couldn't entirely dismiss the idea.

And after finishing dinner, William suddenly prompted a question that had been on his mind throughout the day. 

"Babe, what kind of birth control are you using?"

His question caught you completely off guard.

"Uhm... I have an IUD, Willy... you know that," you replied softly, feeling a bit nervous.

"Oh, yeah, sure," he responded.

"I mean, I'm pretty sure we’ve talked about it before," you added, recalling your previous conversations about birth control.

"Yeah, of course, babe, sorry, I just forgot," he said casually, though his eyes remained fixed on the tv, not meeting yours.

And as you were still processing his sudden interest, William then continued with his questions about how it worked and for how long it lasted.

"Well, I got it about two years ago when I was with my ex-boyfriend, so it should last for another two or three years," you explained gently, but all you got in return was a noncommittal "hm" from William, followed by a simple "that's good."

Then a moment of silence hung between you as you looked intensely at him, noticing his mind working overtime. 

"Willy... why are you asking about my birth control?" 

"Huh? Oh, no reason," he replied nonchalantly, briefly glancing at you before turning his attention to the TV.

But unsatisfied with his response, you pressed on with a light chuckle. "Come on, babe, it’s so random! There must have been a reason."

And then William let out a quick chuckle and a sigh. "It was just... you know, after Mo made that comment about 'wifey material,' I just thought... that maybe, you thought about us one day being a family."

His words sounded almost nervous, although his tone remained steady, and a faint smirk graced his lips, indicating his contentment with the idea.

And you couldn't help but smile in response, as you hadn't expected William to already be entertaining thoughts about your future together. You simply felt a rush of happiness wash over you.

"Well, as a matter of fact, I do think that could be our future, Willy," you replied sweetly, gazing at him as he leaned back on the sofa and looked at you as well.

"I know it's not something we need to think about right now. I mean, we're not even close to that... but I just thought about it."

"And I'm really happy that you share these thoughts with me," you said as you leaned into him, your fingers gently tracing through his hair. "And I love that you can imagine a future with me..."

"But...?" William prompted with a chuckle.

"But nothing," you said almost seductively as you straddled him. "Just that… for now, maybe, I think I'm more interested in practicing for it."

"Oh, I agree," he responded eagerly.

Leaning down, you connected your lips with his, feeling his smile against your mouth as he returned the kiss. And as his hands found your waist, pulling you closer, you deepened the kiss, both of you consumed by passion and lust. Then as the intensity grew, you instinctively began rocking your hips, grinding against him, both revelling in the freedom to explore each other without the worry of consequences.

His hands moved under the hem of your shirt, exploring your bare skin, before you replicated his move on him.

William's body felt incredible against yours. Especially when his strong hands gripped your bottom and flipped you onto the cushions with your back, and you felt the weight of him pressing down on you. Still locked in a passionate kiss, his hands effortlessly removed your shorts and knickers before discarding his own sweats and boxers.

It was as if your bodies were perfectly aligned when William positioned himself at your entrance. And despite the lack of foreplay, he carefully pushed his hardness into your warmth, eliciting harmonious moans from both of you that filled the living room.

"So tight for me, baby," he murmured softly into the crook of your neck. "You're taking me so well."

You felt a slight twinge of discomfort as he withdrew a little before thrusting back in, but soon your cunt was wet and ready, coating him and easing any discomfort. With your legs wrapped around his waist, William began to move his hips in a steady rhythm, making love to you right there on the sofa. Your breaths grew deep and heavy, your bodies heating up with each thrust, and soon you felt pleasure building within you.

It was unexpectedly romantic, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he pounded into you. Your moans synchronised as you both slowly approached climax, feeling the sensation of William's length stimulating your walls.

"Willy," you attempted to speak, but only incoherent breaths and moans escaped your lips.  

His thrusts grew harder and deeper, simultaneously to how his breath became incoherent. You felt his pounding almost as eager, yet it was nothing but pleasurable as you felt your pending orgasm soon approaching. Unintentionally clenching your muscles around him, you signalled your orgasm. 

"Shit," William mumbled, feeling his climax nearing its peak as well. "Fu- baby, I'm gonna cum inside you."

"Yes, Willy, come with me..."

And almost in perfect synchronisation, you both cried out loudly, greatful for the thcik walls between you and the neighbours, as you reached your peaks, waves of ecstasy washing over you as you breathed heavily.

William trembled in your arms as he emptied himself inside you, his eyes shutting tightly, trying to regain control of his breath, as you felt a pulsating sensation around his cock, your body still processing the intensity of the climax.

No foreplay. No oral sex or fingering beforehand. Just pure, straightforward, missionary sex.

And it had felt surprisingly amazing, letting you feel nothing but bliss as you gradually returned to reality.

With William still buried inside you, he leaned down to kiss you softly and tenderly, your fingers threading through his princely locks.

"You're so amazing, älskling," William whispered softly, almost resting his weight on you.

"I could say the same about you," you chuckled lightly.

You stayed in that position for a while longer, William unintentionally ensuring that his fluids remained inside you as a part of him wondered about the possibility of you carrying his child one day.

But for now, you were simply enjoying incredible, protected sex that left you both completely exhausted, falling asleep almost immediately that night. 

**

The following morning, you still felt a pleasant tingling sensation in your body from the previous day's passionate encounter. And a wide smile graced your lips as you reminisced about the pleasure that had left your head spinning.

Then while William was at morning skates, you prepared to meet up with your friend for a proper girl brunch. You hadn't seen Emily in what felt like forever since she lived in Montreal, but thanks to social media, you stayed in touch almost daily.

And nothing could beat a good chat over coffee, scrambled eggs, and pancakes. You caught her up on everything that had happened in the last six months of your life, and despite her being a diehard Montreal Canadiens fan, she was amazed by your newfound involvement with the Toronto Maple Leafs and your relationship with a player.

"Damn, babe, I'm honestly so jealous," she exclaimed as she sipped her mimosa.

"Oh, trust me, I'd be jealous of me too," you chuckled.

The conversation about your new lifestyle continued on for a little longer, and you naturally showed her the string of photos you'd taken, mostly from the latest gala event.

"Holy shit! Y/n/n, you seriously need to post this," she insisted as she saw one of the photos of you posing in your dress. "You look amazing!"

"Thanks, Em," you chuckled softly. "But I'm trying not to overwhelm everyone on Instagram with everything that's going on..."

"Why not? Honestly, if it were me, I'd be sharing every moment with the whole world," she emphasised.

"Well, I suppose I do have a pretty sweet life," you timidly admitted, flashing her a grateful smile, acknowledging how fortunate you were. Besides, she did have a point; you looked absolutely stunning in that dress.

And after a couple more mimosas and discussions about balancing your regular work and social life with the whirlwind of being a professional hockey player's girlfriend, you decided to post a few photos of yourself on Instagram.

Why hide your wonderful life, after all?

Then as you left the café, Emily suggested taking a stroll down the street, doing some light shopping along the way – and if you found something you liked, you'd try it on and pose for photos to capture memories of your day together.

Unbeknownst to you, the mimosas had given you a slight buzz as you began striking various poses in your new outfit, and as Emily's sweet compliments had boosted your confidence, you didn't hesitate to let your body show and your face exude your best model expression.

"Yeah, work it, babe, you look stunning," she would say almost seductively, encouraging you as you posed.

And still by the end of the afternoon, just before parting ways, laughter and giggles filled the air, evident in the pictures taken, and you couldn't help but feel elated as you said goodbye to your friend and headed back to the condo on the subway.

Meanwhile, across the city, William was wrapping up his day after ice practice and a workout in the weight room. And taking a short break after his last set, he scrolled through his social media, before he’d do some quick practice-media time.

When he first saw the photos you posted, William couldn't help but smile. "Damn, you looked good," he thought, swiping from side to side to admire every detail captured. Then he noticed your story, where you had shared a post from your day with Emily. And curious as always, William had to check out her profile to see who she was.

Although you had mentioned her before, he had never met her in person. And as he clicked onto her page, his eyes quickly found her latest post: a photo of you posing in a rather sensual pose, wearing an outfit that showed a little more skin than you’d usually were to brunch.

William swallowed hard as he frowned and studied the photo of you. You looked amazing, undeniably hot, if he had to be honest. But as he continued to look at the post, he started to notice the comments written below.

"Damn, looking good @y/i/n! Didn't know you had model potential 😍"

"Unf, somebody's flirting with the camera 😏"

"#sexylady !!"

"*Whistle sounds* 😗😗"

"Oh wow, maybe I could take you out sometime 😍😍"

As he read some of the comments, he couldn't help but feel a rush of resentment. This picture was completely public, and everyone on the internet could see this incredibly sexy picture of you. 

It’s not that he was angry with you; but he was definitely angry with the guys online who were flirting with you. And he was not okay with it.

A little out of his usual character, William felt a certain level of protectiveness, almost possessiveness, as he didn't like that you were on display for the rest of the world to see. You were his girlfriend, and he didn't want men to start flirting with you like this.

"Hey Willy, they're ready for you now," Jennifer sweetly spoke, breaking him from his trail of thoughts.

And as he walked to meet the couple of journalists, William tried to let it go. He honestly did.

But then, after a few questions about his own training, expectations for tomorrow's match, and his performance, one of the reporters decided to rip open the tiny wound in his feelings.

"So, how do you feel about the partners of the team getting more and more attention on their social media?" the reporter asked.

William was caught off guard by the question. It wasn't anything he'd ever been asked before, yet he knew the married players on the team had been asked it a couple of times.

"Uhm, I don't know…"

"But do you think it's okay that they get this kind of attention?" another reporter asked.

"I... uh, no, I don't think so…"

"So would you want them to take down all their posts about their private life?"

"What? No, that's not what I'm-"

"Or should the management force them to have closed accounts so they don't show any tasteless behaviour online, like your own girlfriend?" Someone else interrupted. 

"What did you just say?"

Emotions of confusion were suddenly replaced by a boiling sensation of anger instead.

"The post of her in a revealing outfit? How do you feel about that?" the reporter pressed.

And William just couldn't hold himself back any longer. The frustrations were boiling over, and all his media training was completely out of the window.

"You know what I think? I think you guys should stay the fuck out of it all and leave it to us. What happens between me, and my girlfriend is none of your damn business, and you should keep your mouth shut! You can ask me all about the sport I'm being paid to play but keep my girlfriend out of it."

The room fell completely silent after his outburst.

William felt his pulse skyrocket and his heartbeat quicken. The audacity these reporters had to ask him these questions, he thought, as he determinedly walked away from the scene.

Entering to the locker room, with fists clenched he couldn't get the words out of his head or let the anger get to him. Something that usually never happened.

And as he let the water run down his body, washing away most of the frustrations, he thought about the mix of emotions within him.

William was torn between the pride he felt when showing you off as his girlfriend and the jealousy he felt when reading the comments on your photo.

Sitting in his stall, he once again opened your Instagram and studied how beautiful you looked in yours and Emily’s pictures. You shone like a million diamonds, and a great part of him felt content about how the fans seemed to be jealous of him being your boyfriend. In fact, it sort of made him smile a little, but what swiftly had his smile disappear was when he saw a comment from someone that appeared to have a name similar to your ex-boyfriend.

"Shit, baby! You look so beautiful ❤️ I know I probably shouldn't be commenting here, but I just couldn't resist! Can't believe I ever let you go…"

William felt his heart stop for a brief moment. Who the fuck did he think he was, commenting on your post like this?

He almost threw his phone across the room, but a message from Calle stopped him.

C: “Hey man, what’s going?” 

Willy: “What do you mean?” 

*C has sent a link*

It was a video from an unofficial sports channel, discussing the headline: “William Nylander rages over girlfriend’s Instagram post!” 

And he couldn’t help but let out a sarcastic chuckle. These fucking reporters, he thought – they surely work quick, and for what? A story based on a lie. 

Yet, he still couldn’t contemplate how his emotions stirred within him.

Should he be proud of how everyone was jealous about his gorgeous girlfriend, or should he be angry because they were trying to flirt with you? 

**

As he stepped into the condo, feeling the warmth of the home you'd built together over the past week, he leisurely walked into the lounge, where he found you snuggled up on the sofa with his dogs.

"Hey babe," you greeted with a smile, though it dimmed slightly when you turned, and his lack of joy was evident. "What's wrong?" you asked, concerned.

But William simply approached you, stood between the coffee table and the sofa, and without uttering a word, he fixed his gaze on you. 

And your eyes were intensely locked, you sensed that something was amiss.

But again, without a word, William just leaned down and kissed you. It was passionate, almost urgent, yet gentle and intimate.

He held your face in his large hands, drawing you in with his energy, prompting you to slowly rise from your seat, moving with him as he guided you away from the sofa.

A weighty silence hung in the air as William effortlessly lifted you in his arms and then carried you to the bedroom, where he began to gently undress you.

His movements were deliberate, purposeful yet gentle, as if he had a mission. He made sure to caress every part of you as he removed your clothes, leaving you standing before him in nothing but your lace thong.

You found yourself almost frozen in place, a mixture of fear about his intentions and curiosity about what would happen next swirling in your mind. And with bated breaths, you followed his every move, the silence in the room heavy with anticipation.

Standing before the bed, you waited, expecting his command. Then he approached from behind, and you felt the warmth of his body against yours, both of you in just your underwear. His bare chest pressed against your back, and his large hand gently encircled your throat, pulling you back against him.

His forceful action elicited a gasp from you, but you couldn't help but lean into his touch, feeling the safety and warmth he provided. Closing your eyes, you felt the firmness of his grip, not restricting your airway but simply asserting his dominance, and his breath hot against your ear as he spoke:

“I fucking love you, du är min prinsessa, don’t ever forget that.” Though his words were sweet, his voice was rough and husky, sending a shiver down your spine.

And when releasing his hold, you let out a small gasp.

"I’m yours," you said softly.

"And you trust me?" 

"Yes," you simply replied.

Leaning in closer, he took a deep breath before continuing.

"If you want me to slow down, say yellow. If you want me to stop, say blue. Do you understand?"

You nodded gently.

"Then say it," he instructed.

"Yellow to slow down, and blue to stop," you repeated.

"Good girl," William murmured, a sense of satisfaction evident in his tone.

And as you stood there, waiting for him to proceed, you suddenly felt his warmth gone, before a silky fabric, gently covered your eyes. It was probably one of his ties, you thought, 

"Bend over."

His command was delivered in a low, dark tone, and you could almost sense his smug satisfaction behind you as you, now blindfolded, let your hands find the bed for support.

"Are these new underwear from today?" he asked almost mockingly, to which you nodded and emitted a confirming hum. But that only had him tear them off your body, the fabric cutting into your skin, causing you to again gasp softly.

His hands then came to caress your cheeks, massaging them gently before slightly spreading them apart.

“So gorgeous.” 

You weren’t really sure what to anticipate, as you had absolutely no idea what was going on inside William’s head, yet you were inexplicably curious to find out.

And while trying to control your breathing, you suddenly felt some sort of liquid sliding down between your cheeks, which William then used his thumb to very gently nudge around your tightest opening. Whether it was lubricant or saliva, you had no idea; all you knew was that it granted him access to carefully press his thumb inside you.

"Oh," you moaned, feeling a slight twinge of pain, yet it was quickly replaced by pleasure.

But William only massaged your opening for a brief moment before withdrawing his thumb. And instead, he replaced it with something cold and metallic - the small butt plug you’d used before. Very slowly, he pressed the plug against your opening, with care letting it past the tight muscles and inside you.

You released another breath, trying to relax your body, just like you'd practiced the last time you explored this particular area. And as the plug was set in place, you could feel how it stimulated your inside.

"Does it feel good, baby?" William then asked, his voice caring hints of satisfaction and care. 

"Yes," you softly moaned, before feeling his fingers slowly trace down between your legs, encouraging you to spread them a little further as his digits began exploring your sensitive flesh.

And you couldn’t suppress the sounds of pleasure that escaped your lips as his fingers circled your clit before delicately toying with your entrance, and slowly pressing two inside, curling and scissoring as he pumped within you.

“Shit, already so wet, baby,” he remarked with a grin. 

"Oh yes, Willy," you let out with heavy breaths, feeling yourself clench around both his fingers as well as the metal plug in your ass. But just as you were starting to feel pleasure slowly building within your body, William withdrew from your warmth.

"Get on the bed, on your back," he commanded.

And without question, you obeyed, using your hands to guide yourself onto the mattress.

"Hands above your head," you heard William instruct, and once again, you complied. "And keep them there."

You then felt his body straddle yours as he leaned over and tied your wrists together with something you assumed was another piece of fabric – perhaps a scarf from his collection. Then with your wrists firmly secured, William left his position. You tried to listen for any sounds he made, but there were no clear indications of what was going on. Only footsteps and something, clinking maybe?

You felt your heartbeat quicken as you waited for what would happen next, and fortunately, you didn’t have to wait long. Sensing movement between your legs, you felt William kneeling before you, his hands slowly moving up your legs, pulling you a little closer. Your body ached for more intimate touch, craving more than just the stimulation from the butt plug.

“You’re so beautiful,” you heard William whisper, and just as you curved a little smile, you were surprised by something cold on your lips. William kissed you, holding an ice cube between his lips, and the heat from both of you causing it to slowly melt, a drop of water running down the side of your mouth and down your jaw.

Then, William began to move further down, ensuring the ice cube touched your skin at all times as he dragged it with his lips. Down your chin, your neck, then to your collarbone and between your breasts. He continued downward, just past your navel, and finally to the top of your core.

And you couldn’t help but let out a small gasp as you felt the sting of cold on your skin, yet you also knew you had to lie still, keeping your hands in place if you wanted the next treat.

"Not moving your hands, huh? Good girl." 

William's praise was like music to your ears, signalling you deserved what was to come next. Positioned between your legs, you barely had a moment to process before you felt his cold mouth on your heat.

"Oh, shit!" you moaned loudly as the mix of chill and warmth sent a pleasurable rush coursing through your body. And the sensation only intensified as William continued to pleasure you, mixing his saliva with your juices, sucking and flicking your clit and the sensitive flesh around your entrance. Needless to say, you were thoroughly enjoying it, your moans and deep breaths echoing in the room as his skilled mouth worked its magic, all the while the metal plug adding to the thrill.

"Fuck! Willy... I can't!" you cried out, finding it difficult to remain still, struggling to keep your hands in place with pleasure clouding your mind. And just as you moved your hands to grab onto his hair, William withdrew his mouth, and strained your wrists back down.

"Thought you were being a good girl, baby... so disappointed," he remarked, his tone tinged with both disappointment and content.

Your anticipation for climax remained unfulfilled, yet you couldn't deny the arousal sparked by William's husky voice and dominant demeanour. And with a swift motion, William took a strong hold of your thighs and turned you onto your elbows and knees, fully exposing your ass to him, including the little diamond plug.

A satisfied grin adorned William's face as he admired you, but he also knew you needed to be disciplined for not following his orders.

And as you tried to control your breaths, feeling overwhelmed by the sudden change in position, you let out a loud moan, almost a shriek, as you felt a strong slap across your ass cheek – another painful sting mixed with pleasure as you clenched around the butt plug.

And then another slap followed.

It felt undeniably good, yet also a bit overwhelming. But you didn’t want it to end, not just yet.

Though you couldn’t see anything, you sensed that William was flashing a smirk behind you, his breathing almost audible. But then, something else caught your attention – William’s tip pressing against your entrance. And with a firm grip on your waist, he eased himself into your depths, eliciting synchronised moans.

It felt so good as he filled you up like that, yet you also felt a level of overstimulation as both your holes were being pleasured. 

And as he began to rock his hips, letting his cock massage your walls, you soon felt a new wave of orgasm building up. But William's thrusts showed no intention of allowing you to slowly build to climax; they were rough and forceful, devoid of any romance.

You could hear the sounds of his moans mixed with the loud slapping of skin behind you. And as the rhythm was relentless, driving deeper and deeper, you knew it wouldn’t be long before you reached a peak with this intensity.

“Willy… please,” you begged as you felt your muscles clenching once again, and this time he allowed you to reach the pinnacle, fucking you harder and pushing you over the edge. And you cried out as you surrendered to the intense orgasm.

But there was no time to catch your breath as William continued to fuck you through the euphoria. You could almost feel your cunt dripping with evidence of your climax, mixed with sweat from both of you.

And it was becoming too much. William had no mercy as he overstimulated your walls with every thrust.

“Yel-…” you tried to speak in a hushed voice. It wasn’t easy. “Yell…”

But William didn’t hear you; the noises of rough sex merely drowned out your whisper.

Yet just as you were about to try and form the word "blue," you suddenly felt William stop and pull out from your heat. And a sense of relief washed over you, yet you knew he hadn’t finished yet, so you couldn’t relax too much.

Without hesitation, he flipped you over onto your back once again, using one hand to pin your hands above your head, and re-entering you in missionary position.

It felt as though your body had completely surrendered to him, melding into his movements with each powerful thrust. You tried to scream between your moans that you were on the brink of another orgasm, but words failed you. And instead, you simply gave in to the overwhelming intensity, your mind clouded by pleasure as your boyfriend moved relentlessly inside you.

Helpless and at his mercy, all you could do was obey as he continued to ravage you. Though, you couldn't understand what had gotten into him; it was becoming increasingly evident that his desire was insatiable.

"Shit, baby... I'm gonna come..." you suddenly heard him breathe out above you, and with his other hand, William pushed aside the fabric covering your eyes, restoring your sight and meeting his gaze.

“I wanna see your eyes.” 

Covered in sweat, he continued to rock his hips, a crooked smirk across his lips as he stared down at you, noticing your tears of pleasure.

And as he then felt himself nearing his own release, he used a hand to wrap around your throat again, exerting a slight pressure without being too forceful. Shutting his eyes tight and determined to reach his climax, he thrust a little harder. 

"Oh, fuck!"

With a few final powerful pounds, William let out a deep grunt and released his seed inside you, emptying himself completely, as he filled you up. His body almost gave way as he reached his peak, his legs trembling beneath him, and his lungs fighting for air. 

It was undoubtedly the most intense sex you had both ever experienced. The way William had fucked you hard and good, and you had reached orgasms too numerous to count amidst the heated session.

Then gently releasing his grip around your throat and wrists, he slowly pulled out and untied your hands.

William remained silent at first. He simply knelt back, gazing down at your exhausted form, regaining control of his breathing. And you too had to gradually return to reality, blinking a few times as you looked up at him, meeting his intense gaze while starting to feel sensation returning to your body.

Both of you were a mess, with sweat and cum soaking the mattress.

"Shit, are you alright, älskling?" William inquired, peering down at you with concern evident in his eyes as he noticed the redness between your legs and on your wrists.

But despite feeling like you had been torn apart, you also experienced a sense of pleasure. And to reassure him, you mustered up an exhausted smile, understanding how important it was for him to know that you had enjoyed it too.

"Yes, Will, I feel fantastic," you murmured gently.

"Really?" he sought confirmation.

You nodded, prompting a faint giggle. "Yes, although I do feel I need to remove the butt plug, my ass feels a tad sore…"

William chuckled in response, gently assisting you in removing the toy with deliberate movements. And naturally, he took good care of you in the shower, as both of you needed to rinse off, tenderly washing each other and expressing all the love and affection that hadn’t been present during sex.

Then returning to bed, William held you close, radiating nothing but sensitivity.

"Was I too rough with you?" he asked as you both lay on your sides, facing each other with William's arm around you.

"A bit, but I also really liked it," you assured him, offering a sweet smile.

"Good, that's good. I only want you to feel great, even when I'm taking control like that," he said, his smile lopsided.

But slowly your smile faded as you wondered about his peculiar behaviour this evening.

"Is something wrong, Willy?" you asked softly.

"No, everything's fine," he replied, but you weren't convinced.

"Come on, I know you like being dominant in bed, but this was different from anything else we've done…"

And finally, William let out a deep sigh and rolled onto his back, contemplating how to articulate his thoughts.

"I suppose I got a bit worked up," he began slowly. "Like I wasn't sure how to feel. On one hand, I felt almost angry after seeing those comments on your Instagram post…"

"Oh…" you murmured, propping your head up with an arm. "So, that's what's been bothering you?" you asked softly.

"Well, yes, but not entirely," he said, giving you a soft smirk and shifting onto his side again to face you, leaning on his elbow. "Because then I thought about it, and even though I don’t like it when men flirt with you online - I mean, I could honestly punch some of them - I remembered how much I love you, how proud I am to have you as my girlfriend, and that I’m the one who has a future with you… so, to be honest, I don’t really care about what they think or write. It just makes me even happier knowing that they’re jealous of me being with you."

And as William shared his deep thoughts and concerns, you couldn't help but feel a rush of happiness from his words.

"Willy, I love you too, and… please don’t think too much about what’s on the internet. If I had to spend my time reading everything women write about you, I’d never get anything done," you said with a light chuckle, your eyes meeting his in a tender gaze.

"I know… and you're amazing for brushing it off," he said with gratitude.

"Well, it's not always easy… but what truly matters is how we feel about each other."

"Exactly – I guess, it was just mainly your ex's comment that really got to me."

You couldn’t help but laugh a little as William admitted that your ex had managed to hit a nerve.

"Oh, forget about him, babe… I love you far more than I could ever love him."

"Yeah, I know," William chuckled softly, gently biting his lower lip before continuing. "But honestly, I feel pretty good about it. Knowing that he still wants you, but that you’re mine now."

His expression showed a hint of amusement as he reassured himself that he had nothing to fear, and that your ex was the one who’d lost in this scenario. And you couldn’t help but smile as you observed his smug expression, a sense of shared enjoyment settling between you.

"I am yours, Willy – you’re the only one I want to be with, to start a family with, and to grow old and wrinkly alongside," you spoke softly as you caressed his cheek.

And suddenly, it felt as if all the negative emotions of jealousy and anger had dissipated, as you both understood the solid foundation of your relationship. The strength of the bond between you, and how there was no need to worry about the outside world and their attempts to drive you apart.

Yet, as the comfortable silence lingered, William felt the urge to break it.

"You know... I have a feeling Tony might have a little crush on you..." 

He wasn't entirely sure why he brought it up, but a small part of him was curious to hear your thoughts. And despite being caught off guard by his words, you maintained a calm expression.

"Really?"

"Yeah... I mean, he hasn't said anything, but..." William trailed off wiht a soft chuckle. 

"Hmm... Well, he's nothing compared to you, Willy,” you spoke confidently, looking deep into his ocean blue eyes as you flashed him a sweet smile. 

"I know, älskling,” he chuckled darkly, flashing a satisfied grin once again. “I know.” 

#18+ #Inexperienced!reader x Willy #SlutsforPresidentNylander #wn88 imagine #william nylander imagine #nhl smut #william nylander smut #nhl hockey imagine #toronto maple leafs imagine

[famwhy]

Right Way Up (03)

Stranger Things

Yandere! Steve Harrington X F!Reader, Yandere! Eddie Munson X F!Reader, Yandere! Billy Hargrove X F!Reader

Synopsis: You always hated when your favourite characters died in shows or movies; always longed to have the opportunity to save them. So when you're transported into one of your favourite shows of all time, what else are you supposed to do besides save your beloved characters?

Warnings: Threat/violence, Gore, Mentions of sexual content (implicit), Death, Manipulation, Depictions of toxic relationships, Drugs and alcohol abuse

Note: I know Steve's initials are on this chapter but that doesn't mean this chapter is focused on him, just a head's up.

prev part. masterlist. next part.

03. bring unto me altruism

trait: s.h.

"YOU know him?"

Your gaze wandered over the top of the BMW, breaking away from the (very sturdy-looking) back of Billy Hargrove to instead lock eyes with Steve Harrington—the latter of which had his own optics thoroughly narrowed in your direction.

"Huh?"

"The new guy—" he scoffed out, and you watched as his lips tugged down, brows furrowed very harshly, "—do you know him?"

Ah, shit. You have got to stop slipping up, Y/N.

"No." The response came out quick—and you turning around to face Billy again came quicker. He was still walking off—skinny jeans making it almost impossible to ignore his figure, very clearly outlining his... ahem just as they had in the show. "I certainly wouldn't mind getting to know him, though."

"Ew, gross."

"Oh please, like you can talk."

"I can talk, actually, and—hey! Where are you going?" 

Midway through his sentence, you had started off towards the school, strutting after the dirty blonde with just as much feigned confidence in your walk as he.

It was rude to walk off halfway through a conversation but that was probably the least of your worries right now. You had a plan and if you wanted to execute it, you couldn't let Billy out of your sight.

"Y/N?"

"Just heading to class, don't worry. Walk Nancy to her first period then head to yours, 'kay? I'll be fine."

What exactly were you doing? Simple—remember the other day when you had no clue where you were going and had to rely on Steve to get you to your classes? Well, today, you could follow Billy Hargrove and, with any luck, you'd end up finding the counselor without having to ask for help and sounding suspicious.

Although, the last of anyone's guesses as to why you were acting peculiar would be that you came from a whole other world; one wherein they were all characters on a screen with almost three-quarters of them being completely irrelevant to the plot and, therefore, not even paid the littlest of attention to by the audience.

Still, better to be safe than sorry.

You had many more worries running rampant in your mind, all loud and overwhelming, grand and all-consuming—almost to the point where you had bumped into the defined back of the 80s bad boy; a defined back which, all of a sudden, wasn't moving like it was just moments ago. 

Why did he stop?

The answer to that question was written clearly on the solid plate stuck to the blank, beaten door before you: COUNSELOR.

Your ears perked up as a jingle sounded from the metal knob, a strong, slightly-tanned hand wrapped firmly around it.

The door refused to budge.

"Ah shit," came the steady curse of the broad male. His body had shifted after that, and even an idiot could tell that he was about to turn around, so you did what any sane person would do—you flung yourself to the side and crashed your butt against one of the chairs snugly tucked against the wall.

Ouch... you'd think the chairs next to the guidance counselor's office would be a little more comfy to land on. 

If Billy had found your actions at all weird, he showed no signs of it—choosing, instead, to plop himself down on the seat next to you; pink lips pulled into a straight line and ocean-blue gaze as cool as steel. If eyes were the windows to the soul, then Billy's glass panes were sure-as-hell foggy beyond belief because you hadn't grasped a single glance at his soul.

But... you still knew what it looked like, the shattered crystals left behind in the wake of his past, ready to prick whoever dared come near with their razor-sharp edges—and that thought had your heart squeezing painfully, both in sympathy and guilt; sympathy for his unfortunate circumstances and... guilt for knowing so much about this boy who hadn't a single clue that you existed before... well, any of this.

"'S there a reason for your staring, princess?"

You blinked, all of a sudden being the recipient of a grin that didn't quite seem to reach the eyes of the sender.

"Huh?"—damn, caught lost in thought again—"Oh! Uh, you're my new neighbour, right?"

He arched a brow.

"Cherry Lane?" You added. "My brother told me someone moved in and you don't look like anyone I know."

His mouth stayed sewn shut and you chose to keep going.

"I think I saw you get out of your car earlier too, there was a California tag on it, is that where you used to live?"

Again. No words. Though, this time, his lips pulled taut and any sign of that previous expression had vanished.

"I always thought the Golden Coast was pretty." You weren't an idiot, you saw the change in his expression—the shift in his gaze—but you didn't let it stop you, continuing to speak with a small, gentle smile, "I'm thinking of going one day."

His eyes had softened a little at that, and he parted his lips—looking as though he was about to speak—when, all of a sudden, a sound reverberated through the near-empty hall, and he closed them once more, raising a brow before sending a pointed look your way.

You felt it coming, the rumble deep down in the pits of your stomach, but you were helpless in stopping it—in containing it—and it arrived before you could even blink—

—a low growl.

Your fist rose up, a light cough leaving your mouth as your gaze awkwardly drifted to the side. "I, uh, didn't eat this morning."

Silence.

Then—to your utter surprise—soft, mirthful chuckles flooded your ears, causing you to whip your head around so fast, you almost sprained your poor neck. Beside you was a sight for sore eyes; one that resulted in your jaw dropping all the way to the floor and your eyes practically bulging out with how much they'd widened.

Billy Hargrove—the Billy Hargrove—was laughing.

His soft, golden curls bounced with each bout of snickers that left his mouth—beautiful, azure eyes crinkled and barely visible past his squinted lids—and yet—they still looked just as striking as usual, as mesmerising and jaw-dropping as on TV—if not, more so.

And then, it really sank in.

You made Billy Hargrove laugh.

And it wasn't some fake, obligatory giggle—nor was it that little, psychotic laugh he did when hysteria clouded his usually-cold gaze—no, it was full-blown, genuine laughter. And you caused it.

That thought had your chest swelling with a lot more pride than it probably should've—

"What's up with the tattoo?"

The question left his mouth much more comfortably than his previous words, flowing out with a small, slightly-smug quirk of his lips, and it took you a moment to register the fact that he had stopped chuckling, his gaze having drifted down—specifically, towards your wrist.

You trailed his gaze, finding yourself being met with the three, thick lines that had been there since the day you arrived in this world and—unsure of why they were there yourself—you shrugged. "Dunno, I think I got it while blackout drunk once."

Something about your response must've been funny because he officially chuckled for the second time since meeting you. "I didn't know you country folk knew how to party that hard."

Now, you might've not been from Hawkins yourself but... something about the way he said that had your eyes narrowing slightly in his direction, and you sprung up from your seat, the underside of your thighs suddenly being greeted by cold air.

"Watch it. We can party just as hard as you Calis."

Your pupils grew shaky as you stood there, watching the next set of his actions with a tingling feeling deep down in your stomach.

One hand on his denim-clad knee, defined biceps flexing as he slowly rose up—your eyes rising with him. And as he took a step closer to you—lips twitching further up with a glint in his eyes you couldn't quite discern—you found yourself starting to slowly lose your breath, hands growing just the slightest bit clammy with the sudden blaze of active nerves you were struck with.

"Yeah?"

You gulped. "Yeah."

You felt hyper-aware as a rough, sun-kissed hand slid around your waist—fitting perfectly against the curve of your back, slowly dragging you closer, and sending a flurry of pleasant tingles straight up your spine to meet with the group that started to steadily arise in your chest; a chest that was mere millimetres from the thin, cotton material that covered his own.

Then, he leaned towards your ear, lips grazing the lobe as he whispered—a sultry lull bleeding into his tone—"Why don't you show me just how hard you can party, huh?"

Your breath audibly hitched in your throat but—before you could fret over what he'd say next, how he'd respond to your silly, little fumble—a 'click!' sounded from your side, and you threw yourself straight out of his sturdy arms quicker than a bolt of lightning—just in time, too, for the face of an older woman emerged from within the office not even moments later.

"Ah," the lady nodded, "you must be William."

Your eyes flitted over to him just in time to catch the way his jaw ticked.

"It's Billy, actually." And when he responded, his voice came out cold, different to the playful lilt it held just moments before.

It didn't take a genius to figure out the name struck a nerve.

"Ah, my bad. Would you like to come in and grab your schedule, Billy?"

He didn't respond but did as she asked, brushing past you to walk into the smaller room, only sharing a brief few seconds of eye-contact as he walked past—but those brief few seconds were enough to grant you just a tiny glimpse into the thunderous storm hidden within the pools of his irises—

—and as the door shut behind him, your lips tugged down.

You couldn't help but let your mind wander to the way his muscles seemed to tense up at the mention of California, freeze in what you could safely assume was caused by his longing to return to the freedom of his home state.

To be forced to depart from your home was nothing new, but you truly felt for Billy and his circumstances. His dad was more than hard on him—he was downright abusive, and Billy was forced to endure it without a single soul in his corner to help him through it, to guide him down the right path and teach him how to break out of the cycle of abuse he was forced into upon being born.

He was only eighteen. A goddamn child. He shouldn't have had to go through what he did.

He should've had the chance to redeem himself.

But that chance was squandered in Season 3, ripped from him akin to how his life was—a grotesque limb of mixed flesh having pierced through his chest, several other messed-up tentacles latched painfully onto his sides, bleeding him dry, draining the life from his eyes.

He didn't deserve to die.

Officially bummed-out by your own trail of thoughts, you heaved out a sigh before your ears perked up at a familiar 'click!' and your head snapped to the door again.

Out came Billy, the smug twitch of his lips back on his face—it was so comfortably situated there, in fact, that if any other person had seen it, they'd have assumed it was there the whole time.

But, despite him looking perfectly fine as he walked out of the old office, you still felt the urge to fly into his arms and wrap him in an embrace filled to the brim with promises; promises to at least provide him some level of support for what he was going through and what he would go through. Though, unlike with Eddie, you couldn't act upon it.

See, Billy and Eddie were two completely different people—where Eddie had brushed off your sudden hug quite easily—happily welcomed it, even—Billy would definitely question it, especially considering the fact that he didn't even know who you were.

And so, although it took all of your willpower, you refrained from throwing yourself onto him—choosing, instead, to stand still as he sauntered over, fingers rising up to brush against your shoulder gently; teasingly.

"See ya 'round, princess."

Instantly, a flurry of tiny, winged creatures erupted in your stomach, sending tingles through your body—up your spine to seize you at your throat, clawing into your windpipe and rendering you motionless in astonishment and awe and—

Was it just you or was it getting hot in here?

"Y/N?" You blinked, attention turning to the dark-haired female suddenly stood before you. "What are you doing here?"

Forcing yourself to forget that... whatever that was, you let a small, sheepish smile curve onto your lips. "Actually, miss, do you mind if I ask for a reprint of my schedule?"

"A reprint?" She rose a brow, arms slowly folding over her chest. "I thought you already had it memorised."

"Oh, uh,"—cue a small, nervous giggle—"you see, it kinda like... slipped my mind, y'know? And I already lost my old one so... can I have that reprint?"

She stood there for a little while longer—letting you really bask in the glory of her heavy judgement—before finally heaving out a sigh through her nose, sounding like she just aged up another ten years as she spun on her heel, full, brown curls bouncing after her.

The ground was smooth, friction practically non-existant as you rocked on your heels, awaiting the piece of paper with bated breath. The ticks of the clock suddenly didn't seem so much like white noise anymore as impatience furrowed your brows and your teeth jutted out, sinking a little into your bottom lip in anticipation.

Then, with a loud, echoing, "Y/N!"—someone had called out to you, but their voice was too high-pitched to be the one you were looking to hear—not to mention the fact that it came from the hall to your right as opposed to the office in front of you.

Your head whipped around just in time to have your whole body jerk a little as a girl skidded to an abrupt stop right next to you, her brown, soft-looking hair bouncing with an almost unnecessary amount of volume.

In her hands were several pieces of bright orange paper, all inked with a few words you couldn't quite make out—not without squinting at least.

"Hey!"

"Uh, hey..."

Who the hell was this again?

"How have you been? You haven't been to practice for a while now, the girls are pretty worried." As she spoke, she tucked a stray strand behind her ear and you squinted—trying to figure out where you'd seen her in the show.

"Oh, uh, I've just been a little sick, that's all."—seriously, who was this girl?—"I'm fine now though."

"That's great to hear!" She beamed, though her smile didn't quite seem to reach her eyes. "Listen, I'm having this party on Halloween and... I wanted you to be the first invite."

She extended one hand—flyer fit snugly between her fingertips—and you reached out, wrapping your fingers around the other end before she released it.

Eyes falling down, you took in the words written in... well, you didn't even know what font that was: TINA'S HALLOWEEN BASH. Come and get Sheet Faced.

Oh, so this was Tina.

"You'll be there, right?"

Your eyes flew back up and you were met with her intense gaze, swirling with a desperate, expectant plea you were almost saddened to see.

"Yeah," you nodded, "I'll be there."

If anyone saw the way her shoulders fell and the muscles on her face relaxed at your words, they would've assumed you took some sort of heavy anvil off her shoulders, freeing her of some sort of imaginary weight that was supposedly weighing her down.

"Thank you," she breathed out, voice practically inaudible over the air leaving her lungs.

Damn, were you that influential?—so much so that your presence would make or break a party?

"No problem?" 

If you were being completely honest, you had no idea what to think of Tina—her character wasn't very explored in the show considering the fact that her role was very minor, the only thing she was really used for was the Halloween bash. But just from these few minutes with her alone, you could tell she was someone who heavily valued reputation.

"Okay, well, I should go," her voice pierced through your thoughts. "I'm thinking of inviting the new kid."

You parted your lips—about to say goodbye—when she twirled around and took off running, not even bothering to spare another glance your way.

Rude.

But as your gaze drifted down to the piece of paper in your hands once more, you found yourself uncaring of her rather unorthodox departure—too busy thinking about... something else.

"Y/N, here's your schedule."

Ah, nevermind the bash, you had your schedule now. You could finally know where you were meant to be for each period—albeit, it would take you a while to actually find the places but at least you knew what subjects you were meant to be in during the week. It wasn't much, but it was something.

Speaking of class, you were long overdue for your first period—

—and your teacher seemed to agree on that too, judging by the harsh glare situated on his face as soon as your sheepish form walked through the door. But hey, could he blame you? No, you were just trying to find your way around this stupid maze of a school.

Luckily, getting to your second class was much easier seeing as you passed it on your way to the first—but that didn't make it any less difficult to have to sit through. You were in Stranger Things—for fuck's sake!—what the hell did Newton's Third Law have to do with it?

You weren't ashamed to admit that you didn't pay attention to any of the other classes leading up to lunch—nor were you opposed to confessing the huge sigh of relief you let out once the long break period finally arrived, because—c'mon—who the hell paid attention to class when they just got transported to another world?

Not you.

So yes, you were currently happily strolling through the halls with your arms crossed over your books as you hugged said items to your chest, no sign of Steve in sight—but, you did catch a glimpse of a very familiar Lion's mane by a set of grey lockers in the corner of your eye.

"Eddie!"

Your voice must've come suddenly because he jumped as soon as you called out to him, head turning your way and one hand situating itself above his heart after he saw you. "Oh, Y/N!"

Your lips twitched up at just the sight of him. "What happened to 'sweetheart'?"

"Oh, uh, you want me to call you that? In front of all these people?"

And just like that, your lips tugged down. "Of course, why would that be a problem? Unless you're uncomfortable with it yourself—in which case, you don't have to call me by it."

Immediately, his head shook from side-to-side, messy hair bouncing crazily along with it. "No, no, not at all... sweetheart."

You'd be lying if you said that the nickname didn't garner a reaction from you; didn't result in your chest swirling with a blazing warmth.

Though, it also seemed to result in the jaw of the person stood next to him dropping to the floor; the same person you had just noticed was there in the first place. He had hair that was just as curly as Eddie's, but—unlike the male you knew—his was cut shorter, barely reaching past his ears really.

You knew this guy, he was one of Eddie's friends.

What was his name again? It started with a G. Let's see... Gavin..? No... Gary..? No...

Oh!

"Gareth right?" Relief washed through your insides when his head nodded, eyes wide and seeming to look through you, almost as if he couldn't even believe you were there, "It's so nice to meet another friend of Eddie's!"

"Another?" He seemed to have shot out of his trance at that, and it wasn't long before he gave you an incredulous look, gaze flickering over from you to Eddie, to you to Eddie, over and over again.

Then, all too suddenly, he pulled on the other male's arm and yanked him to the side—not even 3 feet of you—before resuming, "You're friends with the Queen Bee? How the hell did that happen?"

"You think I know?!"

Eddie's response was enough to garner a chuckle from you, causing both boys to quickly return their gazes to your form. Before they could comment on their fuck-up however, another voice came bellowing down the hall, calling out to you.

"Y/N!" 

Unlike with Gareth before, you recognised that pretty face paired with those luscious ginger strands of hair straight away. How could you not? You had practically seen a thousand edits of them along with the 'Chrissy Wake Up' song on TikTok. Kinda hard to forget her after the Internet did its magic.

Though, it wasn't exactly unpleasant to be meeting her, and so, you gave her as bright a smile as you could muster. "Chrissy! Hey!"

"Hi!" She beamed right back at you, but unlike Tina, Chrissy's smile genuinely reached her glinting eyes, even going as far as adorably crinkling them up a little. "Tina said you were feeling fine now, do you mind coming to practice today? Only if you're okay! I know you've been sick so take as much rest as you need and don't feel pressured."

How the hell could you say no to that?

"Yeah, okay, sure! I'll come with you to practice."

You weren't sure how it was possible, but she seemed to light up even further at that, almost blinding you like the little ball of sunshine she was.

In fact, she was so distracting, you almost forgot the presence of the two boys dressed in a completely different colour pallet to you. Keyword: almost.

"Looks like that's my cue." You turned their way—if only to save your eyesight from genuinely deteriorating due to the light that was Chrissy. "It was nice meeting you, Gareth. Good to see you again, Eddie."

Just before departing, you ghosted your fingers over the covered shoulder of Eddie, wiggling them about like you had done to Steve just the day prior; a signature goodbye, if you will.

And as you walked down the halls, you picked up on one last thing coming from Gareth's mouth... one last thing that was enough to drill your feet straight into the ground.

"Eddie? Eddie, wake up!"

That phrase... 

Flashes of Season 4 infiltrated your gaze; of the unfortunate victims that had their lives stripped from them; of the very girl stood next to you's body flying up, limbs distorting as they snapped irregularly, eyes not even having the pleasure of losing light with how unjustly they were gauged out from her.

Had you messed up somehow?

Had the events of Season 4 ended up being triggered too early by your mere existence?

The questions overwhelmed you—flooded through your senses and clogged up your airways with their untimely arrival. You were a puppet and they were the strings, ushering you to turn around; to rid yourself of the wool pulled over your eyes—of the blissful ignorance surrounding your form—and, helpless to their influence, you did exactly that.

Slowly, your head reared backwards—the room spinning around you—and your eyes were greeted by a welcome sight; one that breathed life back into your limbs.

Eddie stood there—eyes still very much on his face—with a familiar, light blush spread across his cheeks. Even as his form was being rapidly shook by his dear friend, he remained still, gaze trained on you. He only seemed to have snapped out of it after making proper eye-contact with you.

Two blinks. A small, shy raised hand. And a tiny wave.

False alarm. He was just flustered.

It made sense, your previous actions could be interpreted as flirting after all—and to be honest, you didn't really mind if it was (again, the Eddie Munson)—but, you'd be lying if you said he didn't just give you a bit of a scare there.

The sentence that just came out of Gareth's mouth was the very same, infamous sentence uttered by Eddie's lips just before the first death of Season 4—a rather brutal death involving the very ball of sunshine that was just tasked to retrieve you.

Speaking of that ball of sunshine—

"Y/N, you coming?"

You blinked, quickly returning Eddie's wave before whipping your head back around to face the ginger next to you once again.

You had to admit, it was very surreal coming face-to-face with people from the show who were meant to die—it felt kinda like seeing a ghost, and a part of you (just a teensy-weensy, little part) found it... well... unsettling.

But, that was just a small part.

"Yeah. Let's go."

You shook off the residual fear that lingered from that little moment before finally continuing to follow Chrissy down the hall. 

The whole walk was full of her detailing you on the failed practices of the cheerleaders in your absence. Apparently, Heather tried and failed to do a cartwheel into a back-flip as part of one of the routines before dramatically throwing her pompoms to the ground and angrily muttering that you could do it instead.

You had no idea who Heather was but you wished you were there to see it.

Oh, and—with you gone—it seemed as though a lot of the girls had taken to slacking off, opting to gaze longingly at the sweaty boys that played basketball just across the Gym instead of actually being productive.

You doubted that would get any better with Billy around now.

"Well, well, well," a high-pitched voice sliced through your thoughts and you blinked, finally noticing that you arrived at the Gym. "Look who finally decided to show up."

You recognised that puffed-up, blonde hair from the first day of your arrival, the stance she took on being an almost-exact replica of the one back in the infirmary.

"Finally done punching the daylights out of some random freak in school?" She scoffed out.

"Sarah," Chrissy hissed from beside you, "don't say that. Y/N's been sick recently."

"Sick of being just as aggressive as her brother?" Sarah rolled her eyes.

Before you could retort with your own defense, however, someone else had piped in—that person being a brunette with rather short, straight hair, "You're talking like you don't wanna fuck him."

Uh—what?

"Jenny!" Your eyes flitted over to the blonde just in time to catch her reddened cheeks.

"What? It's true, isn't it?"

"Whatever, let's just..."

Sarah trailed off there, jaw hanging open as her eyes seemed to land on something not within your immediate eyesight. And when you found yourself following her gaze—you located the subject of her interest, the lack of words suddenly making sense.

Golden curls you had the pleasure of seeing up close just this morning were farther now, having just barely passed through the entrance. A cigarette hung loosely from his lips as the electricity in his eyes zapped through the Gym before finally landing on you, lips edging up into what you could only call a smirk.

It wasn't long before he sauntered over, practically demanding all of the attention in the room with his walk; attention which was happily handed over to him on a sleek, silver plate.

"All this time I've been calling you princess... when you've really been a queen," as he spoke—voice as husky as ever—a teasing lilt laced into his tone, intensifying his gaze and overwhelming you with his suffocating presence. "Why didn't you say anything, dollface?"

Breathe, Y/N, breathe. Stand your ground. 

You tried to, you really did—but, the only way you'd be able to keep your composure right now was by closing your eyes and pretending you didn't see him—

—so you did exactly that.

Your lashes fluttered shut and you envisioned a blank sea of darkness before uttering out a response, "Didn't think it was important."

"Yeah?" Now, while you might not have been able to see him, you could still very well hear him, and his voice was nothing short of the perfect mixture between smooth and rough and—

Stop. It.

For your own sake—and for fear of further falling apart—you chose not to say anything and only nodded.

That was a mistake.

Instant regret hit you square in the face when you felt the gentle touch of a few, rough fingers against your chin, tilting your head just enough to rest at an angle before a surge of warm air tickled your lashes.

And as he spoke—lips almost grazing your closed lids—those familiar flying pests made their home in your stomach, "Where'd those pretty eyes of yours go? Didn't seem to stop wanting to use them this morning."

Damn him and his smoothness.

In an effort to continue to save face, you resorted to squeezing your eyes even further shut—paying no mind to the blissful warmth slowly coating your form or the teasing snickers that left the bad boy's mouth; snickers which you could practically feel the vibrations of.

"What's the matter? Have I rendered Miss Queen Bee speechless?" 

Your vision was dark but you could still see the smug smirk on his face. Just wait until you gathered yourself, you were gonna make him ten times more flustered than you—just wait.

The light clearing of a throat suddenly served as a reminder that you two weren't the only ones in the room and you found yourself feeling a little... cold when Billy pulled away.

Cold? Ugh, once again, damn him and his smoothness.

Finally deeming it safe to do so, you opened your eyes, blinking a few times to adjust to the light once more before you were finally able to make out the slowly-shrinking figure of Billy Hargrove. But just as he reached the entrance of the Gym once more, he paused, one hand firmly gripping onto the frame as he called out to you over his shoulder.

"Keep your bed nice and warm for me, will ya, dollface?"

Your jaw dropped.

Someone else then said something along the lines of 'oh my god' but—if you were being honest—you were barely able to hear it over the echo of Billy's snickers as he walked away, completely amused by your reaction no doubt.

He was so unequivocally bold, you almost couldn't believe it.

"Uh, guys, I think I'm gonna take a raincheck on practice today." But, it seemed as though the other girls definitely could—judging by how the very girl who said this rushed right after Billy.

"Me too!"

"Yeah, uh, I think I'm feeling a little sick."

"Well, I, for one, am chasing up that boy."

"Not if I get him first!"

And as a majority of them rushed after the handsome male, you found yourself deadpanning.

"Bruh."

You definitely couldn't blame them though, the rest of your day was spent recalling all those scenes with him after all. Even Steve noticed your absent-mindedness in the last period of the day—trying several outlandish things to grab your attention that he only informed you of once the lesson was over.

You didn't even notice him waving his arms wildly in front of your face while the teacher's back was turned.

And even as you walked beside him, Nancy strutting ahead of the two of you after you'd picked her up from class, you still had your head roaming around in the clouds.

"Hey, Y/N?" 

You hummed, half-listening, half-not.

Steve then leaned further your way, shoulder brushing your own as he whispered against your ear. "Wish me good luck?"

You blinked up at him, having paid enough attention to scrunch up your nose in confusion and ask, "Good luck for what?"

"The dinner. At Barb's?" 

A few more blinks.

And then—

"Ohhhhh."

Nancy turned around at that, and Steve was quick to hush you. He only resumed talking when she faced forward once more—albeit, slower than she turned around.

"What are you doing? Trying to get me in trouble?!" His whisper came out harsh, and you winced a little.

"Alright, alright, gheez." 

His attitude seemed to be at an all-time high because he rolled his eyes after that. "I just... don't get why I have to go to this stupid dinner anyway."

"Steve." It was your turn to harshly whisper. "Don't say that. Nancy needs closure, this dinner is exactly that."

You felt for Steve just a tad bit, it wasn't his best friend that died after all (thank god for that) but that didn't mean he got to complain about attending a dinner his girlfriend wanted him to be at because he was there the night of the first attack; of the first murder.

See, Barbara (or Barb) had been Nancy's best friend—the two being practically attached by the hip—so of course the night she died would be one that Nancy deeply regretted, and of course she would want closure with the parents of her best friend. It just made sense.

In fact, the whole reason why she did any of what she did in Season 2 was so that she could inform Barb's parents (who still thought their child was out there somewhere) that their kid was, in fact, dead.

"Y/N, you there?"

Caught in a monologue? Seriously, Y/N? What are you, the main character?

"Yeah, I'm here."

Seeing as you were already outside and stood right by Steve's car—you slotted your hand between the cold of both the handle and the door before pulling it open, leaping straight in, and causing the whole vehicle to jerk in a symphony of loud clangs from sheer force.

"Hey! Careful!" It seemed like your music wasn't appreciated by Steve though.

"Relax. It's not like I broke it or anything—" feeling like messing with him—because duh—a smirk slowly twitched onto your lips, "—besides, it's excited to see me, aren't you, girl?"

Steve let out another hiss when you patted the seat a little too harshly—sounding akin to a pissed off feline which just made him seem less menacing and more adorable.

Ha, you tried, Steve, you tried.

The click of the passenger door drew your eyes over to Nancy's form, watching as her legs entered one at a time before she took a seat and turned your way—"We're dropping you off then heading straight over to Barb's."—then, turning to Steve, "Right, Steve?"

You could already hear the grumbled out 'yes' coming from him and you only sent him a grin seeping with amusement when he met your gaze through the rear-view mirror—your lips stretching further as he mouthed the words 'help me' with anguish in his eyes.

"You two have fun, yeah?"

You said the sentence to piss Steve off even further but when you caught a glimpse of the look on Nance's face, a pang shot straight through your chest.

Her eyes had this far-away look about them as her lips curved up by a very small amount—though there was no joy in it, only grief.

"Hey..." you placed one hand on the shoulder of her seat, using it to pull yourself forward as you furrowed your brows, worry clouding your gaze. "You alright?"

She sniffled a little before waving her hand and nodding in response. "Yeah... yeah, I'm fine. Let's go."

Your lips tugged down and you shared a look with your best friend before he started the engine, breathing life into the vehicle as you slowly lowered your body back down onto the leather seat.

She wasn't fine; even without knowledge from the show, you could tell. She might not have been crying but her lip was definitely quivering a little and her eyes... well, they just weren't all... present in the moment.

But, she would be fine. And that was enough.

Besides, though it was cold to say, you had bigger things to worry about. Nancy would get help from Jonathan in order to come to terms with Barb's death—meanwhile, you had no one to help you out with all the spare knowledge you stored in your brain; with all the premonitions (if you could call it that) you were blessed with.

Perhaps it was time you started preparing for another bout with the demodogs—you were Steve's best friend, after all; that probably meant you'd most likely end up facing the dogs together with him later on in the Season.

"Y/N."

You perked up at the call of your name, shaking away the thoughts clinging to your brain.

"We're here."

Lo and behold, so it seemed you were, the familiar sidewalk leading up to your house being visible through the clear glass panes beside you.

Clicking open the door, you took one step out before swinging the rest of your body to follow after, and once you closed the door again, you walked over to the passenger-side window—shoes barely making a sound against the ground—before your knees bent down a little and you tapped lightly against the glass.

"Let the Hollands know I wish them the best, okay?" You offered a gentle smile to the girl sat before you, and she tried her best to muster one up in return.

"Okay..."

"See you guys." 

And with a brief wave, you quickly spun around and headed towards the relatively-normal house.

You now—thankfully—had keys of your own so there was no need to knock or anything. Well—it was more like you had them all this time but didn't know where they were and just so happened to find them the other day but—details, details.

After fiddling with the keys a little, you heard a 'click!' and pushed against the handle before entering, one hand moving behind you to carefully shut the door.

"I'm home."

Curt's voice was the first to greet you—albeit, not very genuinely. "Congratulations, want a trophy?"

Uh, yes, actually. You would very much like a trophy after coming back home in one piece in the world of Stranger Things.

"We're having pasta tonight!" Luckily, Cain's words were a lot more welcoming than the other brother.

So, as was your right, you ignored your second oldest brother in favour of responding to the first. "Ooh! Pasta?!"

You had to admit, his cooking the other night was rather good—okay, it was magnificent, you just didn't wanna admit it because you stormed off the other day before being able to properly finish it.

But now that you could—

Before you could finish that train of thought, three loud knocks resounded through the room, no doubt coming from the door behind you.

Huh.

Was that Steve? Did he forget to say something?

You lightly wrapped your palm around the handle, turning it slowly before the door was open once more, a sudden, light breeze hitting you square in the face—

—though, the breeze could never be more sudden than who you saw at the door.

It wasn't your swooshy-haired companion to greet you on the other side—no—but rather, an older woman with barely visible bags underneath her drooping eyes; eyes which seemed to have lost all light, almost appearing chillingly lifeless—

—well, that was until they lit up at the sight of you.

"Oh, Y/N! Baby! I've missed you so much!"

And as she threw herself onto your form—arms engulfing you wholly, emotionally—you found yourself blanking out for once, only one thought popping up in your head:

What. The. Fuck.

@bdudette, @tanyaherondale, @killerqueenfan, @l3xiluve, @thedoubleexposurephotography, @xxqueenofdemonsxx, @briarsheart, @nickey-diano, @uselessbutinteresting, @steeldaisies, @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom, @patheticreative, @majestichugs, @eddiesbitch83, @secretdryrose, @bloodywickedvamp, @charlizekkelly

Did Billy give you guys butterflies or what? 😏 (Srsly tho, I need to know if I'm writing him well—)

#x reader #stranger things #female reader #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere male #yandere male x female reader #yandere x you #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x you #yandere steve harrington #yandere eddie munson #yandere billy hargrove #.right way up #billy hargove x reader

[anton-luvr]

can you do anton x gender neutral reader where he picks you up from a blind date your friend set up for you and you got stood up and he comforts you and they kiss or whatever 😭 sorry if this it too much

# PROMISE.

𖦹 bestfriend!anton x gn!reader | fluff & slight angst | friends to lovers au 𖦹 note; tysm for requesting!! hope u like it hehe ( ��̀ ω •́ )�� + join my 100 followers req event here!

"It's okay, I'm here."

For the first time that night, relief surges through you.

When your friend set you up for your third blind date of the week, you had a feeling it wasn't going to turn out the way you hoped it would.

And sure enough, it didn't.

Thankfully, you had Anton to come to your rescue; he was at the restaurant your date stood you up at in ten minutes.

"I swear to God, that dude's a jackass for not even showing up." Anton huffs as he leads you to his car, opening the door for you. "Get in, I'll take you home."

Sniffling, you merely nod and get into his car.

The curly haired boy sighs as he gets into the driver's seat.

"You know, maybe you should stop going on these blind dates," he scolds lightly, putting his car into drive. "They're starting to take a toll on you."

You didn't want to agree, but he was right.

For the past few months, you had been going on blind date after blind date, just to meet weirdos or get rudely rejected, which left your self-esteem wounded.

But for some reason, today hurt even more than usual.

Maybe it was because of the endless months of loneliness stacking up against you, nights spent alone in your bed.

Maybe it was seeing all of your friends happy with their partners, a bittersweet pain piercing at your heart in wonders when it was going to be your turn.

Maybe it was the stupid delusion that things would work out this time with a complete stranger that your friend said was "nice".

"God, I hate this." you groan, right before bursting into tears.

Anton feels terrible to see you crying, and he quickly pulls over by the side of the road.

"Hey, hey," he says softly, rubbing your shoulders. "It's okay."

"It's not okay!" you sputter, tears falling down your cheeks freely now. "I try and try and try, but I never find someone! Am I that hard to love?"

A sob escapes from your throat and you bury your face in your hands.

Anger boils in Anton's chest, upset to see you hurt thanks to irrelevant strangers who didn't know your worth.

But he lets you cry it out, his hand never leaving your shoulder as he rubbed comforting circles.

"Feel better?" he asks gently, passing you a tissue when your sobs finally quiet down to sniffles.

You shake your head, eyes puffy.

"I feel like shit, Anton." you admit, leaning back against the headrest.

He sighs, softly wiping away a stray tear.

"Listen to me." he says firmly.

"You're one of the most hardworking, gorgeous, talented, funniest, and most caring person I've ever met. Don't let these stupid idiots define your worth. You'll find the right one for you eventually, I'm sure."

You smile sadly at his words, chuckling.

"Yeah, maybe after ten years." you murmur.

Anton scoffs, folding his arms.

"Go on a date with me then."

Your turn to face him so fast, you hear a small crack in your neck.

"M-Me? You?" you stammer, pointing at him and yourself.

Anton doesn't know where his sudden streak of confidence came from, but he nods and leans in closer.

"Give me a chance," he whispers against your lips, cupping your cheek. "I promise I'll treat you right."

It sounds like a line right out of a cringy rom-com, but the genuine sincerity and adoration shining in his eyes says otherwise.

Your heartbeat rings in your ears, thoughts flying through your mind at the speed of light.

Never in a million years would you expect to be face to face with your best friend, his lips just millimeters away from yours right after he asked you out.

Yet it all made sense.

He was always there for you, be it at your lowest or your highest. He knew you like the back of his hand, remembering your favorite coffee order and your favorite songs.

So without hesitation, you close the distance.

Now, you've always wondered what your first kiss would be like, building up all sorts of different scenarios in your head before you slept.

But kissing Anton right now was better than anything else you could imagine.

His lips were so soft against yours, his sweet cologne tickling your nose as he pulled you closer to him. The kiss deepens, and all the noise in your head silences.

It's still silent when he slowly pulls away, his lips swollen and slightly breathless.

"I promise." Anton repeats, sealing it with a soft kiss to your cheek.

It was such a romantic moment, until your stomach grumbling loudly interrupted it.

Your eyes widen, and the both of you burst out laughing. "I think my stomach likes your promise," you joke, slightly embarrassed.

Anton giggles at this, kissing you on the cheek again. "Let's get you some food then, hm?"

You nod as Anton puts the car into drive again.

As he speeds down the roads, he keeps one hand interlaced with yours while the other steers effortlessly.

"Do you want McDonald's? Or something like Waffle House?" he asks, eyes flickering between the GPS and the road.

"Anything is fine," you assure him, squeezing his hand. "I love free food."

Anton laughs, jokingly rolling his eyes at you.

"Anything for my favorite person in the world." he whispers, smiling at you.

"It's giving simp behavior." you tease, cheeks flushing red nevertheless.

He gasps dramatically, clutching his heart as if it was wounded.

"Okay, no more free food then," he declares, shrugging.

"Hey, I was just joking!" you protest.

He laughs again, slowing down the car as he starts parking.

"Alright, time to be a simp and get you your free food!" he announces cheerfully, turning off the engine.

You've barely taken your seatbelt off when he's already out of the car, running to open your door for you.

"I see that chivalry's not dead," you say, taking his stretched out hand as you step out of his car.

"Simp behavior, remember?" he boasts.

You laugh, holding on to his warm hand.

"My best simp."

© anton-luvr, 2023.

#riize #riize fluff #riize angst #riize fics #anton #riize anton #riize icons #riize headers #riize moodboard #kpop #kpop fluff #kpop fics #kpop angst

[emonydeborah]

If the crew became kids

I doubt this is going to happen, especially because TNG already did it, but I would personally have such a great time.

An overarching theme would be Una's height because reasons, and because her talking to someone and suddenly having to look down at some child would be hilarious.

So some kidifying ray swept the ship, affecting them either one at a time or all at once.

Chris will not shut up about horses. He's swinging his legs on the biobed and chattering away. He accidentally interrupts and is so apologetic bc he never wants to be rude!!!! He wants to be friends!!! "Are we friends?" Spock has to look down at his captain/father figure and say "...yes. Chris." (Also Chris stares up at Una and says she's pretty bc he has more brains as a child than a grown man). He stares out at the stars with the biggest eyes.

Una the preteen is the same height as La'an and La'an is pretending not to be salty about it. They know she's Illyrian and she Freaks Out, and she and La'an have a talk about accepting themselves and not being defined by what others think that is more educational for La'an than for Una. What a gangly woman. She is out here constantly knocking things over, and the crew sees someone who had to grow into herself as much as anyone. Her default response is silence and big scared eyes but she can be tempted with some trivia. Erica spends hours showing her the flight controls.

Spock is a complete deadpan sassbucket and no one is prepared. the cute chubby cheeks. The bowlcut. His babysitters lose sight of him for sixty seconds and he disassembles a replicator because he heard a funny noise. Don't touch that. Why? *is touching it* They cannot make him believe he is in fact an adult and they're trying to fix him. "Mother says to find a mother with children and ask her for help if I get lost." Man asks Una for help because he's lost. Legend.

Uhura is such a little imp. Once she gets over being scared she disappears into the jeffries tubes. Her giggling echoes through the ship like the ghost of a demonic victorian child. Hemmer is down to let her roam but Una crawls in and drags her out. If any of the kids get a leash, it's Uhura. Erica distracts her with sweets. She needs to be occupied at all times or she will wander away.

Erica is the surliest eleven year old. Everyone expected her to be the easy child but she makes a point of being difficult. Una is tearing her hair out and Chris is like yes but have you considered. She is eleven. She's edgy and moody and everyone is like how did our Erica come from you. Una says she's the best pilot she's ever met and sits her at the helm and Erica stops her griping for a bit. She determinedly does not show interest but she does look at the buttons and subtly watch Jenna doing her job.

La'an has a lisp and sucks her thumb. Una insists she has to stay with her. For security reasons. Una has to go yell at people and La'an is holding her hand/on her hip the whole time. Everyone else is curious about little La'an but Una goes NO get your OWN. Little La'an wants hugs and cuddles and Una goes well if I must. For Starfleet. Chris does get custody for a while and he carries la'an around on his shoulders.

Christine and her big fat smart mouth. ackshually I read about this and you're wrong. Her sass is only matched by baby Spock. Grown Spock does not know how to handle it. This eight year old and her sassy little crossed arms leave everyone speechless with the sheer audacity. Joseph "don't touch that you'll break it" vs Christine "we use these at school all the time I know what to do" *breaks it* "... I didn't do that."

Joseph is the smiliest boy. He's having a great time. He follows Christine around and asks her about everything. Someone is in Sickbay with a sprained ankle or something and Joseph goes hmm. Looks like you're real sick. Do you have chicken soup here. He's the most charming little kid. Everything he does is cute. Everyone gets hugs and secret handshakes.

Hemmer, like Spock, takes stuff apart for the heck of it. Uhura tries to distract him by asking about Andoria and he could not care less. Man is tearing apart the EPS manifold and Uhura goes ...buddy let's not do that. Una says stop and he stops. All the deadpan blind jokes. Look away for two seconds and he is actively climbing into the warp core. What are you doing?!?!? Hemmer *shrugs*

Pelia is off like a shot all over the place. Talking a mile a minute. Young Pelia is such a foreign idea no one knows how to handle it. She's their wise old hermit and their wise old hermit is hanging upside down off the biobed. Now she's on the ground and her head hurts. Oh crap she's crying.

#snw #una chin riley #chris pike #spock #la'an noonien singh #pelia #nyota uhura #hemmer #erica ortegas #christine chapel #joseph m'benga #strange new worlds #snw au #for funsies #star trek

[crancisfrozier]

Hi back from the dead again because I need to talk about this Watcher situation as someone who has been following them since BU and has been supporting them on Patreon for the last 3 years.

There are a lot of people claiming this decision was made out of greed or something equally malicious and I have to disagree completely. There is a lot of talk about parasocial relationships from the fandom side but I actually think this runs both ways. I think the boys are used to a very devoted and very loyal fanbase that professes to love and care about them and wants to support their endeavors, and has demonstrated that over the four years they have been operating as Watcher. I think they saw this as a logical next move for their company that they were excited about and that the fandom would wholeheartedly support, as always (hence the countdown). They likely did not think about how this would look or feel from an audience standpoint and made a, in hindsight for them, pretty impulsive trust fall expecting us to be there for them, only to hit the ground pretty hard and unexpectedly. They are probably reeling from this which, I believe, is the cause for all this radio silence.

Also, something that I haven’t really seen anyone address yet is how this moment feels like a defining blowout argument in a relationship. We are at a point where both parties (Watcher and the fans) have done/said things that cannot be taken back. They can try and slightly walk back the streaming decision, maybe offer an additional free tier with ads on the streamer itself so they are not cutting off fans from content completely, but they cannot completely take back this decision as they’ve likely already sunk time and money into the platform, not to mention the people who have already paid for it. And from the audience side, there have been a lot of reasonable and logical comments made about the message this sends to fans who cannot afford it or why this is a hurtful and unwise business decision, but there have also been A LOT of very nasty and very rude comments, or comments that would likely be very hurtful to the boys in general. Blaming Steven for the decision and saying how he wasn’t ever liked and was only tolerated by fans, how people have never liked ghost files or mystery files as much as unsolved, how the quality has gotten worse as the production value increased, etc. The boys have likely not seen every comment but I’m sure they’ve seen enough of them and that is something that is going to fundamentally change how they view their fanbase as much as this has warped how we view them. I could not imagine facing and making new content for an audience that I thought 100% supported me then basically ended up telling me my content is subpar, I peaked years ago, and that they always disliked 1/3 of the founding members of my company.

We are at a point where we have both said and done things that have fundamentally changed our relationship to each other and only time will tell whether we can walk this back and start building trust again or call it quits for good.

#watcher #I really really hope it’s the former believe me #I don’t want to see them fail or crash and burn #I truly don’t think they deserve that #I’m also hoping they make a statement tomorrow AT LEAST to say they’ve heard us and are formulating a response #if not that London show on Tuesday is gonna be reeeeaaaal awkward

[s4turnzbarzzz]

hey!! if you are taking requests, i wanted to request the tmnt mm! boys having a crush on a fem! reader who’s EXACTLY like raph. she loves fighting, may or may not have anger issues, cursed with resting bitch face, BUT, she’s actually really sweet and outgoing. never afraid to speak her mind, so, she may come across as rude sometimes, but, she never really means to be. (lowkey a biased request but SSSHH, we’re not gonna talk about that)

omg finally a tmnt mm request!! this was so much fun to write!! sorry if theyre short btw im struggling with writers block rn

TMNT (mutant mayhem) x fem! reader sfw

tw: none

Donnie

he wouldnt really understand that he was actually falling for you until one of his brothers mentions how you act and he starts telling them that youre suprisingly nice

he definently makes you little trinkets as a sign of appreciation (and as a way of flirting with you)

whenever youre not around and theyre not busy he constantly talks about you and how youre actually really sweet even though you act like a dick to he rest of them most of the time

his brothers think hes lying and that you cant be that nice until they get to know you better

when you start softening up around his brothers he finally asks you out

hes autistic so dont be overly touchy in private, it makes him uncomfortable

Raph

honestly he loves girls that have similar personalities to him so when he meets you hes head over heels

hes also secretly a softie too so when you start to trust you more he does as well

you guys are so cute together omg

he suprisingly doesnt have the guts to ask you out on his own so his brothers do it (he was so embarassed that they did that to him even though it was his idea)

if you say yes to going out with him hell be so happy

dont tell anyone he has a soft side for the sake of his reputation though

Leo

Mikey

it takes a bit for him to warm up to you at first but after his brothers convinced him you were fine he decided to give you a chance to know each other

he didnt expect you to like fighting or anything and if he didnt know you he could easily mistake you for his brother raph

raph can already be alot on his own so essentially having two of him around is insane

eventually you get to know him better and start trusting him more and start to loosen up around him

he eventually asks you out when he has the chance and you two are away from his brothers

hes a little scared of you at first tbh since youre almost exactly like his brother personality wise

it doesnt take very long before you two get comfortable around eachother though

he also notices that he has feelings for you pretty soon after he gets to know you better and sees that you have a soft side

he asks you out pretty quickly actually

#tmnt #tmnt mm #tmnt mutant mayhem #tmnt x reader #fem reader #donatello x reader #raphael x reader #leonardo x reader #michaelangelo x reader