#except when somebody moves in the way of them and maybe moves back out of the way

[fabbyf1]

Hi!

I’m not sure of this is how to go about this correctly.

I’m not sure what your position is on others drawing inspiration/directly from your incredible fan fiction writing but, on Ao3 there is a fic called ❤️lestappen- One shorts💙 by lestapeeen. The most recent chapter (14) is very similar to the monza chapter of long live(twwct) specifically the piggy back and proposal promise. some of the dialogue is exactly the same.

I figured you should know. If it’s a cool with you or if you knew already, sorry to be a bother.

DISCLAIMER: This post, by no means, is asking for ANYBODY to send this author mentioned (and tagged) below hate. On anon or main. I have been pretty damn clear with my feelings on the matter below. They know what they've done, and I won't stand for it. Nobody needs to make this worse by sending them death threats. With that out of the way, let's deep dive, shall we?

YOU KNOW WHAT?

First off, god bless you, bestie. God BLESS you. I want to smooch you on your incredibly wonderful forehead. Thank you so much for bringing this to my attention. I cannot be everywhere at once and cannot possibly read every fanfic posted to AO3, but it's not fucking cool for people to straight-up plagiarize my shit.

Secondly, I'd like to ask that if ANY of my followers come across something that looks very suspiciously similar to my fics, please let me know. You can for sure send it on anon, or send me a dm.

Now, with that being said, I clicked on this fucking fic not knowing what to think. I went into it with a pretty open mind, knowing that there are quite a few authors currently posting fics that are verrrrrrrrrrry similar to my writing style. I've gotten pretty close to calling a few of these authors out but haven't for a few reasons.

Fanfics based on the same ship, in the same canon setting, are always going to be... let's use the word "similar" here. The plot can only change so much when you're following canon events, you know? I don’t write AUs, so I’m only going off canon-inspired fics. My fics generally follow along with canon timelines and therefore, other author’s fics that follow the same timeline are going to be... similar. I get that and accept that.

Characterizations are bound to be... well, fuck it, let's use that word "similar" again. I'm gonna be pretty forgiving when someone's Max is damn near the same as my Max because one: I'm a good and forgiving person, and two: I think my characters (while totally fucking fictional) are very life-like to the real person. So, with that in mind, when I read a fic with characterizations similar to mine... I will usually give somebody grace... and accept that maybe, just possibly, they see Max Verstappen (the person) the same way I do (fictionally) and it’s a big old coincidence that our fics read so similar. You know? Does that make sense?

But with all that being said, I’m not a fucking idiot. 

And honestly? I give more grace than I should on this goddamn website. (lmfao, respectfully.) This is sadly not the first time that somebody has very much written in my likeness, and I know it won't be the last. But this is definitely the boldest version of plagiarism I've seen. I haven’t clicked on any chapter except for 14, and I heavily skimmed the first part, but let’s take a little deep dive into some of the highlights. Because I will show the receipts, bestie.

from their story:

from long live:

..... right, let's move on.

from their story:

from long live:

okay................. sure

from their story:

from long live:

If you're going to plagiarize my shit... you could at least put it in a different font, so to speak. "Hey, can I copy your homework?” “Sure, but change it up a bit.” 

Girlie pop, you stopped even trying to change it the fuck up. 

Let me be clear: I do not authorize anybody to translate, re-post or distribute my work without my written consent. This is in a disclaimer (that I will post below) in every single one of my fics. Taking MY dialogue is NOT okay. 

Direct quote from the beginning note of Long Live:  DISCLAIMER #4: This is 100% fictional, and I do not own any person, team, or sponsor referenced in this story. I mean no offense to any person(s) mentioned and characterized in this story. I am not affiliated with any part of Formula 1 or its subsections. Please do not translate, re-post, or distribute my work without my written consent. I will cry.

To sum up, writing is not easy, and it takes time and effort. Time away from my friends, my girlfriend, my family. Time away from my job and my other hobbies. Long Live is 76 thousand words and took me countless hours to write.

To have somebody so blatantly and disrespectfully post MY SHIT as their own and not even try to give me credit? To not write a note that said, “Heyyyyy go read long live, which I [clearly] really enjoyed!” or even a “Some of this dialogue was inspired by @fabbyf1” or even just a “lmfao some of this i didn’t write but the rest i did” really pisses me off.

Why did it ever have to come to this?

I am SO disappointed right now.

Happy fucking Friday, I guess.

For full transparency, here is the link to their fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55255699 and here is the link to their tumblr: @l-estappen

Here is the link to MY fic, which was posted on April 2nd, 2023, and written in Google Docs with revision history about a month before that. I have receipts out the fucking ass, my dear. https://archiveofourown.org/works/46190509/chapters/116284915

Be well.

#... anyway #i expect this story to be EDITED TO REMOVE MY DIALOGUE or completely taken down. #thanks for listening.

[lock-my-feelings-in-a-jar]

#eyestrain #the rubettes #sugar baby love #1974 #i am doing this now #i've been shutting my brain off and not learning every band's member's names because i have too many circling around my head at the moment #ummm is this an eyestrain video? #lots of sparkly things #the lighting #maybe #the lights aren't really flashing #except when somebody moves in the way of them and maybe moves back out of the way #i don't KNOW

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

I wanna dance with somebody

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 22

Prompt: Sports

Rated: T

CW: some vague mentions of Eddie’s boner

Tags: No UD AU; Meet cute; Good neighbor Eddie Munson; Dancer Steve Harrington

Notes: @thefreakandthehair, @sourw0lfs, @devondespresso - SPORTS! GO, SPORTS!!!

Wanna see dancer!Steve stretch (and Eddie have a horny meltdown)? Check out the artwork done by @house-of-the-moving-image!!

It’s still half dark and freezing outside as Eddie parks the van in front of the dancing school.

“Shit, we’re running late,” Max curses and bends down to straighten her neon-colored leg warmers for the twentieth time. “Just because you couldn’t find your stupid car keys.” 

“That all you gotta say?” Eddie huffs, but all it gets him is that bewildered brow quirk she always does when he’s being dumb. “How about Sorry for waking you at ass o’clock, Eddie? Thank you for driving me, Eddie? You’re the best neighbor in the world, Eddie?” 

She scoffs at him. “Ew, are you always that desperate for validation? Pathetic.” 

Eddie gawks after her as she opens the passenger door and gets out to retrieve her duffel from the backseat. That little gremlin! He should’ve closed the door in her face, left her standing out in the snow. 

Except, it all rang a little too close to home. The way she huddled on his porch, arms wrapped around her too-thin jacket, face set in a disappointed scowl. The way she barked at him to drive her to dance class because her mom had been home late and wouldn’t wake up. He knows she’s been taking odd jobs around the trailer park to pay for the classes, knows it's the one thing during the week she looks forward to. Also knows that her mom is too out of it to care half of the time. Knows how that feels. 

There’s no way he could’ve denied her. 

The problem is, she’s perfectly aware of that. 

“You coming?” 

She’s eyeing him expectantly through the open back door of the van. Eddie waves her off, fumbles for his cigarettes in his pocket. Realizes he forgot them. Shit. 

“‘s okay, I’ll just wait out here in the car.” 

She rolls her eyes so hard her entire head sways with the motion. “Don’t be a moron, they have heating and a lounge inside. C’mon.” 

*

The inside of the dancing school is basically just one long hall with a floor-to-ceiling mirror front at one end. There’s a counter in one corner and two mismatched sofas with a pile of old magazines opposite that. Max makes a dash for the gaggle of girls doing warm-ups on the dance floor, even though there’s no instructor in sight yet. 

“Oh hey, can I help you?” 

Eddie blinks. A guy has just materialized behind the counter - though the truth probably is that he was crouched out of sight to retrieve the boombox in his hands. He puts it on the countertop, cocks his head at Eddie, which makes a few strands of floofy chestnut hair fall in front of his wireframe glasses, and oh fuck, he’s cute! 

“Adult classes don’t start until noon, but-” 

Eddie barks a laugh and saunters closer. 

“Yeah, no. I’m just here to drop off little Red.”

He jerks his head at the dance floor. Cutie follows the movement and his face breaks into a smile so full of genuine delight, Eddie wants to cuddle him. Or maybe bite him. Maybe both. 

“Oh, Max,” says Cutie. “You her brother?” 

Eddie snorts. “Nah, just a neighbor. Her mom was … indisposed.” 

“Huh,” Cutie says. Quirks an eyebrow. Somehow manages to put an entire unspoken verdict into that little noise and gesture. “She’s real talented, y’know?” 

Eddie shuffles in his place, unsure about what to do with that information. “Um, yeah?” 

Cutie nods, eyes darting over at Max, who’s dropping into a painful-looking split in front of the mirror, and shit, when did she learn that? 

“Yeah. I think she’s got potential. Plus, she’s really come out of her shell these past few weeks. So thanks for driving her.” 

“Oh, erm …” Eddie makes, pulls a strand of hair in front of his face to hide his incoming flush. “No problem, dude, not like I had-” 

“Steve!” Max hollers, and they flinch apart. Eddie didn’t even notice how they’ve both drifted into each other’s space, Cutie’s elbows bracketed on the counter and himself just swaying ever-so-slightly closer. “You done flirting, or what? We should’ve started three minutes ago!” 

Cutie - who’s name is Steve, apparently - takes off his glasses and winks at Eddie. Fucking winks at him. It goes ridiculously well with the pretty pink blush that’s blooming high in his cheekbones. 

“Sorry,” he mutters, raising his arms over his head and bending at the hip, does a silly little stretch. “Duty calls.” 

Then, he smoothes his hair out of his forehead and steps around the counter, pressing the Play button on the boombox. 

“Okay, ladies, here we go! One song for warm-up, just move around the room however you like, feel the music.” 

Some atrocious, boppy pop number starts to blare through the room, but Eddie hardly processes it. He’s too preoccupied by the sight in front of him. 

Legs. 

And an ass. 

Legs and an ass in fucking tights. They hug Steve’s form like a second skin, bringing out every muscle, and Christ, there’s a lot to bring out! Guy looks like one of these ancient Greek marble statues - if marble statues wore fucking Tears for Fears shirts and could balance on their tippy toes and do leaps and spins in perfect sync with the music, all with flawless core tension and a seemingly effortless smile. 

Eddie thinks he may need to step out. Take a breather. Throw himself crotch-first into the nearest snowdrift, maybe. 

Instead, he takes two shaky steps backwards and collapses on top of the nearest sofa, grabs a random magazine from the pile and fans it open in his lap to hide his very unfortunate predicament. 

It’s Good Housekeeping. 

Steve spins by, catches his eye and winks again. 

Eddie turns back to the magazine. Cool, fine, he always wanted to know about the ten best apple pie recipes to delight your loved ones with. 

He does hope this magazine is sturdy, or he might just tear through it.

Part 2

All my holiday drabbles

#steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie brainrot #steddie fanfic #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #steddie holiday drabbles #steddieholidaydrabbles #hype's holiday drabbles

[kennahjune]

Jealous?

Thanks so much to the amazing @rogueddie for letting me write this!!!! Hope it lives to standards :)

.

Eddie had a problem.

A Steve Harrington sized problem.

Said problem was standing behind the counter at Family Video while the woman in front of him blatantly flirted with him.

It wasn’t the woman Eddie was worried about— she had at least five years of age on Steve, so maybe there was cause for concern— but Steve wasn’t paying her the time of day.

Instead, he was glancing over the woman’s shoulder at Eddie, who lurked in the aisles, and kept making faces and blabbling his mouth mockingly whenever she wasn’t paying attention.

Eddie was desperately holding back snickers and snorts. He couldn’t help but let a giggle escape when Steve moved his hand in a “blabbing” motion when she said something about her ex-husband (HUSBAND) again. The woman whipped around and glared at Eddie. Eddie gave her a finger waggle wave he realized belatedly was the same one Steve does.

Steve himself was almost beet red in the face with his effort to hold in his laugh. Eddie was amazed at how long he’d lasted.

The moment the door closed behind her Steve put his face in his arms on the counter and full on cackled. Eddie was quick to join.

They were still laughing when Robin came back from the bathroom.

“Is she gone?” she asked, looking oddly between the two of them.

Steve nodded, not having enough breath to get words out. Robin sighed a dramatic breath of relief.

“Oh thank God. Cause she looked one second away from bringing up some stupid shit like her failed marriage—“

That sent Steve and Eddie into another spiral of laughs.

“There’s no way she actually did.” Robin deadpanned.

Eddie nodded vigorously. “She fucking did!”

“Four times! As if bringing up how she was newly-single would make me want her. Did she look in a mirror before leaving? She’s closer to my dads age.”

Eddie snorted, trying to get his laughter under control enough to say “Even man-whore Richard Harrington wouldn’t go within a 20 foot radius of her.”

Steve didn’t waste a second before racking on: “Doesn’t need to get too close with how far back that hairline stretches.”

Robin and Eddie laughed themselves to tears.

And that was how it went.

A woman would come into the video store, shoot their shot with Steve, and Steve would laugh about it with Robin and Eddie later.

And it was fun. Eddie found it fun. Cause he knew Steve would always shoot the girls down, however nice or rudely he has to be about it.

Until—

Until.

It was a Friday, and as per usual on Fridays, Eddie was at Steve’s. Of course, it wasn’t just him— Robin, Nancy, Jonathan and Argyle were there as well.

They’d been hanging out whenever they all could before Nancy and Jonathan went to college and Argyle back to Cali. Hence the Friday night hang outs.

Tonight was no different, except for one thing.

“So explain to me once again why we have to drive all the way out to Indy for this?” Jonathan complained.

Nancy sighed and leant into him. “Cause there aren’t any good bars in Hawkins. And everywhere in Hawkins knows that almost none of us are of legal age.”

Jonathan grumbled but conceded, Wheeler had a point.

“Besides,” added Robin. “It’d be nice to finally get the hell out and see some new people.”

“Amen.” Agreed Eddie and Argyle at the same time. They both chuckled.

“Yeah well, I’d like to go soon before my social battery drains itself dead.” Remarked Jonathan, throwing an arm around his girlfriend’s shoulders.

“We’d have left already if SOMEBODY DIDN’T HAVE TO SPEND HALF AN HOUR PRIMPING HIMSELF!” Yelled Robin towards the stairs.

Steve had been MIA since Eddie got there at least 20 minutes ago. According to Robin he was still getting ready.

“PUT A LID ON IT BIRD-FOR-BRAINS, IM COMING!” Was the reply she got from the top of the stairs, where Steve was now coming from.

Nancy and Argyle snorted at the insult, but Eddie’s mind was rather taken up by the cut-off jean shorts Steve wore that showed more of his thighs than Eddie thought necessary for anyone’s functioning brain. He was also wearing what looked like the softest sweater he owned; a dark purple one that seriously brought out the green in his eyes.

Nancy whistled, Robin clapped. Argyle grinned at Steve and said

“Hey man! That’s the sweater I got you!”

Steve grinned right back and nodded. “Uh huh! Dude it’s like— SO fucking comfy you don’t even understand.”

The sweater was a little big on Steve, hanging over his thumbs a bit in the sleeves and landing just below the waistline of his shorts. If Eddie wasn’t so focused on the many moles on his thighs that were on display, the fact that Argyle had gotten Steve a sweater may have rubbed him the wrong way.

As it stood, Steve looked good.

He looked stunning, actually, in his glasses and his hair slightly ruffled in a delicate manner and his eyes wide and bright and—

“Eddie!”

He blinked and Steve was standing in front of him, no one else in the room.

“Huh?”

Steve grinned giddily and laughed at him. “C’mon dude, you’re my ride up, remember?”

Oh yeah. They’d split everyone between his and Argyles vans.

“Isn’t Buckley with us?” Eddie asked as he grabbed his keys and headed out the door.

“Yeah, but I think she’s sticking with Jon and them on the way up.”

Eddie nodded and averted his gaze once more. There was a reason he’d skipped gym and avoided the mall.

That reason was glaring at him with all of its dotted moles and freckles and faint scars.

Jesus Christ he needed a cigarette.

The ride up was uneventful, peaceful even. Eddie let Steve have control over the radio, something Steve thought was normal but was downright foreign to anyone else. Eddie usually fought tooth and nail for control over the music but the sight of Steve singing and drumming his legs (holy shit his thighs jiggled—) and jamming out with a bright smile to whatever Tears for Fears or ABBA song he put on was worth it.

He followed behind Argyle and reluctantly sang under his breath with Steve to Head Over Heels.

The club they ended up going to was a little deeper into the city than they’d initially thought, and was slightly crowded when they got in.

Eddie was immediately hit with the smell of sweat and booze but not in an entirely bad way. In a way that told him that people here had fun.

It was bright and loud and the air tasted like fries (though Eddie might just be hungry). They took an empty table booth in a corner in the back.

After dropping their jackets off and everyone picking a seat, Steve got up to get everyone drinks.

“You want me to come with?” Eddie asked worriedly. It was Steve’s first time in Indy in a while and his first time out of Hawkins since the fall of Vecna. Sue Eddie for being cautious.

But Steve smiled sweetly at him and shook his head. “I’ll be alright, Eds. Be right back.” He knocked his knuckles on Eddie’s head affectionately and walked off. Eddie may have spent a second ogling before snapping his gaze to the table.

“So?”

Eddie looked at Nancy with a raised eyebrow. She raised one right back.

“Soooo…?”

She sighed. “Oh you’re hopeless.”

Jonathan snickered.

“Wha—“

“Are you gonna make a move tonight?” Argyle elaborated.

Eddie shot up real fast. “Make a move? On who, Steve?”

“Yea, on Steve, doofus!” Robin reprimanded.

“There’s no board to make a move on.” Eddie pushed stubbornly. Because it was true. There was nothing there.

Robin groaned and dropped her head to the table.

“Dude, relax your knee. It’s shaking the whole table.” Jonathan tapped Eddie’s leg under the booth.

“Sorry, sorry. He’s been gone a while, right?” Eddie craned his head to look around the bodies of people dancing.

Robin huffed. “Yeah, kinda. But there are six of us, maybe he’s having trouble carrying all the drinks.”

Nancy suddenly kicked his leg under the table, a lot harder than her boyfriend had earlier. Eddie winced.

“Go help him.” Nancy all but demanded.

Eddie was up and away in a second, happy to have an excuse. He faintly heard Nancy and Robin high five behind him.

He weaved through the dancing crowd, bodies jostling him and pushing him forward until he got to the bar and finally spotted Steve and—

And?

Something bubbled low in Eddie’s gut at the man standing in front of Steve. He was taller than both Steve and Eddie, well-built and had a bit of a beard going. He was leaning on the bar next to Steve, sort of caging him in. The scene made Eddie mad for reasons he didn’t give himself time to think about before he inserting himself.

“Steve!”

Both Steve and the asshole’s heads turned to Eddie. Steve’s eyes lit up in recognition and relief while the man’s narrowed in anger at being interrupted.

“You know him, doll?”

Eddie wanted to make the man spit his own teeth out. Nobody else got to call Steve pet names. Just Eddie. It was an Eddie Thing, not an Everybody Thing. Fuck this guy.

“Yeah—“ Steve started.

“Yeah, he does. And yet I don’t think he knows you.”

Eddie stood shoulder to shoulder with Steve, glaring daggers at the douche.

The man scoffed and huffed, walking away and muttering under his breath. Eddie scowled until he could see the guy and his stupid beard. He finally turned to Steve.

Who was absolutely red in the face.

“You alright, sweetheart?” Eddie asked worriedly. “He wasn’t bothering you right? He seemed like a dick, looked like one even before I got up close.”

Steve stared at Eddie wide-eyed with his pretty lips parted. He blinked and spluttered a response.

“U—um, yeah! Yeah, no, I’m— I’m good. I’m alright. I’m great! Yep, great! Uh—“

“Are you sure?” Eddie was concerned, never having heard Steve stumble over a simple sentence so much.

Steve nodded vigorously before turning to the bar snappily. Eddie could still see the red painting his ears.

“Yep! Perfect! Could you help with the drinks? I don’t think I can carry them all, thanks!” And he was off back to the table.

Eddie stared after him for a moment before slowly grabbing the other three drinks and following back through the sea of bodies.

Steve was sat by the time Eddie got back to the booth, whispering heatedly with Robin, Eddie only managing to hear Steve hiss to her “that wouldn’t work!” before noticing his presence and shutting up all together.

Eddie raised an eyebrow but let it slide while he gave Nancy and Jon their drinks. He slid into the booth next to Steve who sat between him and Robin and across from Jonathan.

For the next 10 minutes, they all talked. They talked and laughed and joked and drank. But Steve seemed more in his head than usual.

Eddie was just working up the courage to ask him what was wrong when a guy came up to their table, eyeing Steve. Eddie immediately tensed.

“Hi.”

All six heads turned to the dude who just showed up. But that didn’t deter him much.

“I was just wondering if pretty boy here wanted to dance?” He smirked at Steve, who Eddie felt tense up beside him.

“Um—“ Steve’s voice was kind of shaky, barely. But it was enough (mixed with the anger already brewing in his gut at the NERVE of this guy) for Eddie to finally step in.

“He’s alright.”

Six heads suddenly turned on him.

“Excuse me?” The asshole asked.

“You’re excused.” Eddie waved his hand in a shooing motion.

“Well I hadn’t exactly—“

“And I hadn’t exactly /asked/, now have I? Goodbye.” Eddie didn’t even bother offering a smile to hide the aggression in his tone. His message was clear: Get Lost.

The douche walked away grumbling and conversation soon resumed at the table.

“What was that!?” Jonathan asked incredulously.

Nancy and Argyle were both openly staring at Eddie in bewilderment.

Eddie shifted, but was more focused on the fact that Steve seemed to relax again.

“The dude was being an asshole. Just told him to get lost, not a big deal.”

“He was just asking Steve to dance? I don’t see the problem there.” Robin cut in.

It gave Eddie pause for thinking. She was right; there really was no problem there, so why had he been so upset about the dude asking Steve to dance. God just the thought of it left a bad taste in his mouth.

“It’s fine, Rob. I was just gonna tell him no anyway.”

Eddie looked at Steve then, who was a whole new shade of red.

“Are you alright? You’re all red again.” Eddie worried. Jonathan snorted into his drink and then winced when Steve kicked him under the table. Steve looked at Eddie.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a bit overwhelmed in the tight space I think. You wanna— uh— you wanna go dance?”

Eddie didn’t waste a second with his answer. “Sure.”

Eddie watched Steve and Robin have a silent conversation with their eyes and expressions before Robin grinned in victory and waved at them eagerly.

“Buh-bye! Have fun!” She sing-songed. Steve shot her a glare.

Eddie led Steve to the dance floor somewhere towards the edge of the crowd where there was less people. They really just stood there talking and sipping on their drinks while everyone around them danced.

“Hey, uh— thanks for telling him to back off. I’ve, I’ve never actually… been flirted with? By a guy, I mean— this is like— a brand new thing. But he and the other dude seemed just really creepy so— uh, thanks.” Steve stumbled through.

Eddie stared at his wide, earnest eyes and wondered how no guy had ever flirted with Steve before tonight. Even if the idea of it ever happening made him want to hurt somebody.

(Even though Eddie knows that guys have flirted with Steve before. Knows that he didn’t just make up those looks Tommy Hagan and Billy Hargrove gave him.)

So Eddie smiled and shook his head. “You’re all good, sweetheart. Just don’t want you running into the wrong guys.”

That pretty blush was back again, making Steve look even more breathtaking under the florescent lights and making his smile twice as bright.

Then they were rudely interrupted.

“Hey, babyboy.” Came an obnoxious call from behind Eddie. The guy was, again, taller that Steve, but this time he was barely taller than Eddie (a/n lemme live in slightly shorter Steve fantasy ok—). Eddie immediately hated him and his entire existence. Who just called people that? Babyboy? Was he serious or delusional?

Eddie watched Steve’s shoulders tense awkwardly while the guy spoke. His anger only grew and grew.

“Alright that’s enough dude, he’s not interested.”

The guy didn’t say anything to Eddie but kept talking to Steve which only served to irk Eddie further.

“I said he’s not interested ass face.” Eddie grabbed the guy’s shoulder. He finally looked at Eddie, seeming bored.

“He hasn’t said anything? Why not let the babydoll decide, huh?” He smirked at Steve. Eddie wanted to puke and scream at the same time. He felt like he was chewing on nails listening to this guy. Babydoll? First babyboy and now BABYDOLL??? Who the fuck was this dude? And more importantly would the possible assault charges be worth it?

“Um— yeah, I’m sorry. I’m not really interested in looking for anybody tonight.” Steve confirmed.

“Oh c’mon, doll face, don’t be like that.”

Oh the assault charges would so be worth it.

“He just said he wasn’t interested so fuck off.” Eddie shoved his shoulder. The dude finally turned to look at Eddie, leveling him with a glare that Eddie happily returned tenfold. If looks could kill the guy would have been fucking obliterated on sight.

“If he wasn’t interested then why’s he dressed like that, huh?”

Jail was looking mighty fine to Eddie.

“I’m right fucking here, asshat.” Steve spoke up. “And Im dressed like this because I look good and I know it. Not for fucks like you who have to beg for scraps to get by. I said I wasn’t interested and you’re just causing more of a headache if anything.”

Eddie grinned at Steve. It was so hot when he got all bitchy.

The asshole scoffed. “Oh so baby’s got a mouth on him.”

Eddie finally snapped, those assault charges no where in mind when he punched the guy in the face.

“Eddie!” Steve yelled, absolutely flabbergasted at the sudden violence.

The guy left after that with a threat of harassment charges. Steve took Eddie outside to the alleyway on the side of the club to get away from the crowd and to better examine his freshly bruised knuckles.

“You didn’t have to punch him.”

“He fucking had it coming.” Eddie spat through clenched teeth. He was still seething. And Steve was prodding at the bruises but that was neither here nor there.

Steve looked at Eddie, still holding his bruised hand. His eyes were wide as always and his cheeks flushed once more. His eyes seemed to search Eddie for something.

“Was it cause he was an ass?”

Eddie scoffed. “Of course! He was an ass and made you uncomfortable and—“

And I wanted to be the one to call you baby.

“And?” Steve prompted.

“And… and I hated how he talked to you.”

Steve looked down at Eddie hand, the blush rising to ears again. Eddie hooked a finger under Steve’s chin with the hand that wasn’t bruised and being held.

“Hey, you alright? You’re getting all quiet again.”

Steve’s eyes flitted back and forth between Eddie’s own before he sighed.

“Eddie.. I can’t— I don’t understand.”

Eddie pouted, confused. “Don’t understand what? There’s not much to it, honey.”

Steve cheeks pinkened again with the endearment. “Not— not that. I get that he was a dick— a massive dick attitude to make up for what he was surely lacking—“

That startled a laugh out of Eddie.

“—but I guess I don’t understand the other times? You were never like this before when anyone else flirted, so what changed tonight?”

And wasn’t that a thought.

What changed?

Well for starters, he wanted to kiss Steve. He wanted to kiss Steve senseless, shove him up against a wall and stick his tongue down his throat until he was breathless an begging for it.

So that’s changed.

But he also wanted to hug Steve and hold him right and call him things like Sweetheart and Honey and Love and Baby (which he already does anyway for the most part). He wanted to take Steve places and show him things. Wanted to give Steve every pretty rock he found and show him every cool leaf he saw.

What changed was that he wanted Steve in every which way Steve would let him have him.

But of course, Eddie didn’t express these aloud.

“Eddie…” Steve stared wide-eyed with his mouth opened in shock, his face a violent shade of red.

Or maybe he did express them aloud.

He’d drank more than he thought.

And then Steve was kissing him. Steve was pulling him in by the hand he was holding and pressing their lips together in a kiss that Eddie would never forget, not matter how much he’d drank that night.

They let go of each others hands, Eddie immediately grabbing Steve’s waist and Steve tangling his hands in Eddie hair.

By the time they’d pulled away to breathe Eddie bad fulfilled his wish of shoving Steve against a wall and sticking his tongue down his throat.

“So you were jealous?” Steve teased, playing with Eddie hair where his arms were still wrapped around his neck.

Eddie grumbled under his breath and kissed Steve to shut him up. Steve hummed and smiled into the kiss.

“Kissing me into going to make me drop it, Munson. You were totally jealous of those guys in there.”

Eddie huffed and stooped lower to kiss at Steve neck, gaining an immediate reaction with Steve’s stuttered breath and sudden silence. Eddie chuckled.

“Oh? I thought kissing you wasn’t going to make you drop it.”

Steve hit his shoulder weakly. “Shut it, asshole— mm!” Eddie bit down lightly on the side of his neck.

Then the door to the alley was opening and Robin was telling them to get their horny asses home before thy got arrested for public indecency.

So they agreed to pick up at home. And the whole ride there was filled with relentless teasing about Eddie’s apparent jealousy towards any guy who so much as looked at Steve oddly.

.

It’s rushed I know but it’s like 2am on a school night 😭 and I’m not upset with the results. Could it be better? Yeah. Could it be worse? Absolutely. It’s not my finest work but oh well 🤷

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #argyle #that dude needs a last name #spicy six 😍 #I kinda love them as a group #steddie #steddie idea #small fic #oneshot #eddies a jealous bastard #steve finds it stupidly hot #robin never lets them live it down #nobody can resist the harrington charm #unfortunately #eddies boy is just very desirable #side jancy #but mainly Steddie

[petew21-blog]

Teen wolf - New Alpha

"Scott, come on we need to sort this out. There is a fight coming and you're not doing anything. We need to get everyone ready and strike first. You're the alpha. Do something!"

"No. By doing something we will provoke them for a bigger fight which means possible casualties. Don't do anything stupid Theo and wait. I know what I am doing."

"Somehow I doubt that" I left without waiting for the answer. I was pissed. He is a shitty alpha who doesn't know how to protect his pack. The wolves don't hide. And we ARE wolves.

I love my body. I love my powers. I love how fucking ripped I made my body. But the true Alpha knows when to give something up. Maybe I am not alpha now. But I sure will be soon.

I waited after dark and called Scott over to the school lockers. I lied that there was something to take care of. I said that me and him could handle it. And to not bring anyone else, that we will try to bond and bury the axe. And he believed it. What an idiot. And he calls himself Alpha.

Scott arrived ready, just as I expected. I set a trail of blood leading to showers for him to follow. He did and that gave me a chance to approach him from behind. He turned around and then I turned of the high ultrasound that paralyzed him.

"Stop! Stop this!!!"

I moved quickly. I recited the words of the spell and turned of the ultrasound.

Scott:"Are you nuts? Why the hell did you do that?!?"

Then the pain at the back of our heads started. Piercing pain that signalled the swap has started. Normal people would faint, but not us.

I closed my eyes for the last time as Theo and opened them again as Scott. Scott McCall. Scott THE ALPHA. THE ALPHA. I. AM. THE. ALPHA.

Of course I cast another sleeping spell at him after the swap to enjoy my body for the first time uninterrupted. I just took a long shower to rub it in his face. His body is great tho. Gotta get it ripped as mine. I won't live like a scrawny little bitch. I went to examine his face in the mirror. "Hmm. He's not ugly, gotta give him that. Hair looks nice. Face structure is more masculine than mine. Except the muscles. They look nice, but I'll get them to be bigger."

I heard noise in the lockers. "Ah, somebody woke up"

He was visibly confused. But by the muscle touching, hyperventilation and looking at his hands, I could tell that the reality started to hit his little head. Wait, I can't say mean stuff about him anymore. He has my gorgeous body. Maybe I could enjoy that body even though I had to give it up.

He looked at me.

"How do you like the body?" I said, smiled and gave him a little show.

Scott:"Theo?! Theo what have you done?! Fix this right now!" he was slowly getting angrier. Time to show him who the alpha is.

I pressed him against the wall. Grabbed him with one hand under his neck. The other strongly gripped my ex body's balls and squeezed.

Theo:"Now, THEO. You may not like in what situation you are. But this is not about you. This is about our whole pack. The pack is led by the ALPHA. And I am the ALPHA now. You will do as I say. Understand?"

He did not answer so I squeezed his balls more. "Yesssss. I understand."

"No, you have to say it fully. Yes I understand my alpha."

"I understand, my alpha!"

"Good. Now be a good wolf and suck your alpha's cock. You're gonna be doing that a lot, so it's time you got used to being my own little bitch. Understand?"

"Yes, my alpha"

I AM THE ALPHA

Inbox story: Can you do a swap between Scott McCall and Theo Raeken from teen wolf? ALways thought Scott was a shitty alpha, way too passive. And Theo is so dominant and hot. Would love to see Theo taking Scott's life and power while forcing the new Theo to become his btch.

Part 2:

#body swap #male body swap #body switch #teen wold body swap

[appocalipse]

something good ⋆ bucky barnes

summary: bucky is about to go to war without confessing his feelings for you. you are about to watch him leave without confessing your feelings for him. that is, unless one of you gets up the courage to do something about it...

"I...need some fresh air. I'll be back."

Steve looks like he's going to argue with you as you push the chair out, but then you glance toward where Bucky disappeared in the crowd of people dancing, and Steve's face softens before he gives you a nod.

"We'll be right here," he says, pointing to your barely-touched drink. "Be careful."

The alley behind the bar is damp and quiet, cool from the rain earlier in the day but blissfully empty. You lean against the bricks and tip your head back, closing your eyes.

Steve was wrong — you should have stayed home.

He'd begged you to come out tonight; it wasn't just the two of them, he'd said, his eyes wide with hope. A few others had been invited, too, old friends who Bucky had wanted to see one last time before shipping out tomorrow.

And girls, of course. Girls with big smiles and bright eyes, who looked at Bucky as if they were hungry and he was a steak dinner.

To his credit, though, Bucky had asked you to dance first, and you'd said no. No, because it would have been impossible to act casually around him with your hands on his chest and his on your waist.

So, yes, you’d needed some fresh air after that. How could you not, when—

"Are you mad at me?"

You turn toward the voice that came from down the alley. Even though it's dark, you, of course, recognize him instantly, silhouetted against the weak light coming from inside the bar.

"Me? No, you—I'm not," you reply, your tongue feeling like it weighs three pounds. You attempt a smile. "What are you doing out here? You should be inside, enjoying your last night, no?"

Bucky shrugs and walks closer, but only far enough so you can see each other without straining.

"I was looking for you," he says, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Steve said you'd come out here."

"I'll go back inside soon, I promise. Don't worry."

He doesn't move except to kick a loose pebble away from his toe. "Why didn't you want to dance with me?"

Your stomach plummets at the question. He sounds almost hurt, and you wish you could explain yourself to him in a way that doesn't include blurting out your stupid feelings in the process.

"Uh...I don't know, I just...well, no reason," you stumble, wishing desperately that you weren't such an idiot. "I thought I'd keep Steve company while you...you know."

"Danced with the rest of them?"

You nod silently.

Bucky makes a scoffing sound before running a hand through his hair. "They're all the same."

"Okay..."

"It's not, uh, it's not what you think," he continues, taking a step forward, then back again as if he's unsure of how close to stand. "The girls — they're nice and pretty, sure, but...they're just not... I don't think they're my type, I guess."

"Uh-huh," you murmur, turning your gaze downward toward your shoes, suddenly finding it easier to look anywhere but at him. "Yeah, well, we better get back before—"

"Is there somebody else?"

The air in your lungs vanishes at his abrupt question, and you look up as your heart starts beating out of rhythm.

"Excuse me?" you whisper, surprised that you've even found your voice. "Somebody else?"

"Somebody that you...that you're seeing," Bucky says slowly, his words strained, as if every one causes him pain.

You stare at him for a second, hoping this is a joke, that maybe Steve put him up to asking these ridiculous questions — or maybe he's been drinking too much — because, surely, Bucky couldn't possibly be trying to ask you what you think he's trying to ask you.

"Bucky, let's just go back inside—"

"It's Steve, isn't it?" he cuts you off with the most absurd statement yet. His expression softens. "It's okay, really. If you are, I mean. He's a really good guy."

"Steve?!" You actually laugh at the absurdity of it all, shaking your head until the shock fades away into incredulity. "Jesus Christ, no! I mean, Steve is...he's like a brother to me, what...what the hell are we even talking about?"

"But...there's someone?" he asks again, sounding less upset than he had a few moments ago.

"No, not—no," you say, slouching against the wall and shrugging halfheartedly. "There's no one. Honestly, there hasn't been since..."

"Since when?"

Since I met you.

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose and praying that a sinkhole will open up and swallow you whole. This has gone on long enough. "I don't know. It's...been a little while. I don't know what you want me to say, really."

"I just wondered."

"Okay, fine."

You start to walk back to the door leading inside, but Bucky moves so quickly that you run smack into his chest.

"Wait, just—"

He grabs your hand and holds it gently, thumb softly brushing along your knuckles.

Your breath hitches at the unexpected contact. You glance down at where he's holding onto you, then back up again, confused, curious, wondering if this is real and not some strange dream you'll wake up from any moment now.

You exhale with a shaky laugh when he lifts his other hand to your cheek and rubs his thumb across it, stopping at the corner of your mouth.

Slowly, so slowly, he leans in.

"Bucky," you breathe, his name soft on your tongue.

His forehead touches yours, and you reach up to rest a palm against his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart beneath your fingertips.

"Do you not want me to...?"

He's never been this close to you, but everything about the moment feels familiar — the heat radiating from his body, the light scratch of his stubble on your cheek, the smell of him surrounding you.

You lift your chin slightly. "I do, but..."

"Just..." You feel the warmth of his breath on your lips; he's so close now that they brush against yours as he speaks. "I wish I'd...said something before it came to this."

"Before what came to this?"

"That I'd have...asked you. Proper, like. Dinner, movie. You know, the way it shoulda been. Before I...before I leave."

You stiffen at the word leave, pulling back so that you can look him in the eye.

"Bucky..."

"I wish I would've asked you to dinner. Would've loved to take you to dinner," he says, his eyes searching yours. "Wouldn't that have been nice, doll?"

A small smile lifts the corner of your mouth. "It would've."

"It could've been nice, you and me."

"I think it could have been."

"Yeah?" he chuckles quietly, lifting your hand and bringing it to his lips. He presses a kiss to the back of your fingers, then your palm. "I think it can still be. You see, I'm quite selfish. I'd like to go to war with something good to think of. Something — or someone — to come home to. That'd be worth coming home to."

"Like...Steve?"

It's a joke, of course, and Bucky, to his credit, does laugh, too. Then, he slips a finger under your chin and tips your face up toward his. You hold your breath as he dips his head to place a gentle, barely-there kiss on the corner of your mouth. "Not like Steve. No."

The music from inside the bar becomes louder, a woman's voice singing softly, sweetly. Stars fading, but I linger on, dear...

"I..." You clear your throat nervously, fiddling with the collar of his jacket. "You better come back to me in one piece."

"You gonna be waiting for me?"

You smirk. "I mean, I already waited this long, so I might as well—"

The rest of your words disappear into his kiss. You gasp at the sudden, almost desperate press of Bucky's lips on yours, but then he brings his hands to the sides of your face and kisses you more gently, more slowly, more purposefully, as if he has a lot to say to you in this moment but words fail him and the only thing left to do is this — to kiss you, over and over, again and again, to say, with his lips, with his hands, with every inch of himself...that he'll come back to you.

You whimper as Bucky's teeth catch your lower lip and tug before letting go. He pulls back far enough to look at you, to see your swollen lips parted. "So...that means yes, right?"

"Yes," you murmur. You slide your hands over his shoulders and into his hair, pulling his mouth back down to yours. "It means yes."

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky x you #bucky x reader #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier imagine #winter soldier x fem!reader #winter soldier x you #marvel fanfic #marvel imagine #bucky barnes scenario #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes one-shot #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes headcanon #mcu fanfic #mcu #mcu fanfiction #mcu imagine #bucky barnes headcanons #bucky barnes hcs #bucky barnes hc #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes blurb #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes dialogue #bucky barnes fluff

[mypoisonedvine]

𝓵𝓮𝓶𝓸𝓷 & 𝓵𝓪𝓿𝓮𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻 | kitten braden x reader

𝓼𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂 | it's been hard for you since she moved out, of course, and she didn't give you much warning before she stopped by to acquire some forgotten belongings. you know this time, if you let her leave again, she'll be out of your life forever-- could that really be what she wants?

𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽 | 4.3k

𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 | smut (18+ only - thigh riding, fingering, a touch of dom!reader), angst (break up), internalized transphobia/body image stuff, insecurity, lesbian reader, fluff and sweetness 💕

You swung open the front door, having to stop yourself from biting your lip at the sight of her— just how you remembered, except… no, even more beautiful.

She was wearing a simple silky slip dress with a massive fur, the perfect contrast as always; pearls, of course, but not the ones you’d bought her.  Maybe she just wanted to show off that somebody new was buying her pearls now, and god, could you blame them?

You probably looked ridiculous, staring at her like that and not even saying anything.  “I just came to get my things,” she informed you in that soft, melodious voice of hers.

Your chest deflated.  “Y-yes, sure,” you nodded, stepping back to let her in.  She brushed past you quickly, a sort of tightness to her walk— a little prissy, you thought.  But you sort of liked that, too.  

You inhaled a whiff of sweet perfume just after she walked by so briskly, something new, something fresh and a little tart: lemon and lavender.  Had she put herself together like this, just to come here and flaunt how incredible she looked?  How she’d somehow become more beautiful since she left— how she was doing so well, probably better than ever without you?  It should’ve hurt but you didn’t even mind; she could walk all over you with those stilettos and you’d be grateful for it—

You shook your head as she made her way to the bedroom, deciding not to indulge in that train of thought… at least not until after she’d left.

“I thought you, erm, took everything already,” you mumbled as you followed her, watching her go through your drawers— she kept her chin up as she looked, only lowering her eyes in that way that made the length of her lashes all the more apparent.  Was she toying with you on purpose?  You really hoped she was.

“I couldn’t find my earrings,” she explained, “the little blue ones?  I think I left them here— and a few pairs of knickers.”

“The blue ones,” you remembered, “I remember them— they match your eyes.”

She shot you a little look, a frown, and kept searching amongst your socks.  “Don’t be like that,” she mumbled, eventually.  “I’m just here for the earrings.”

“I know, sorry,” you breathed, “it’s just that— you look great.”

“Hm,” she acknowledged, quickly turning her head to send those blonde curls in a swing; it reminded you of when she twirled in her dresses, laughing and blushing when you told her she looked beautiful.  You still couldn’t really believe that was all behind you now, that she was really gone…

“You look good too,” you added, doing an impression of her soft voice, and she seemed confused as she finally looked at you again.  “That’s the polite thing, you know— what you say when you run into an ex.”

“I know,” she agreed, “but, well… I said I’d never lie to you.  I’m still keeping that promise.”

You scoffed, not sure which part of that to start with.  What promise did I break to you?  You remember saying you’d never lie to me?  I don’t look good?

“And—” she started again, like she’d tried to bite her tongue but couldn’t help herself.  She spun on her heel and crossed her arms at you.  “And you look like a mess!  Stained joggers, your sock’s got a hole in it—”

You looked down at your feet, sighing when you saw your big toe exposed.

“And look at the apartment!” she continued, raising her arms to gesture around at the disorganised room.  “God, you’ve got take-away boxes everywhere, you’ve got dirty clothes and dishes on the bed—”

“I am a mess,” you explained, stepping closer.  “Of course I am.  I’m not like you, I can’t just… I can’t just forget.”

“Forget?” she repeated, offended.  “Is that what you think I’ve done?”

“How else can you come in here, looking like that,” you laughed thinly, motioning over her form as she held her coat together shyly, “asking about some bloody earrings… how can you walk through this apartment and not get your heart broken with every step?”

She glanced down, almost looking embarrassed— an emotion you were all too familiar with on her face.  You stepped a little closer, dying to meet her gaze.

“I can barely stand to be here,” you breathed, “and I lived here first— I lived here for years before I even met you!  And now— fuck, Kitten—” you stopped for a moment to bite your lip as you tried not to cry— “now I just come home and I keep thinking: that’s our apartment.”

She blinked quickly but said nothing.  You waited for a while for her to say any of the thousands of things you wanted to hear right then: for her to admit that she still wanted you, too, that she was so lonely without you, that she came up with an excuse to come by because she wanted to make you jealous— even just that she missed living here.  But she just bit her lip and avoided your gaze, and your heartbreak shifted to frustration: you quickly knelt down and yanked open the bottom drawer, forcing her to pull her leg out of the way before the wood scraped her ankle.  You flipped open a shoebox and dug through until you found the blue ceramic flowers.

“Here,” you decided as you balled them up in your fist, “the earrings you wanted so damn bad.”

But before you stood up, you tossed them carelessly back into the box and picked it up, standing and facing here.

“You know what?  Take the whole thing,” you offered roughly, pushing the box into her chest until she delicately held it.  She took the lid off and gently began to look through what was inside.  “It’s all there— the knickers, too.”

But it wasn’t just her earrings and lacy underthings in the box— it was everything.  Ticket stubs from movies you’d seen together, receipts from diners and lingerie stores, dried flowers and ribbons from picnic baskets… the pictures you’d taken of her, Polaroids mostly— some a bit more salacious than the rest.  “Darling…” she breathed, and your heart skipped.  “You kept all this?”

“Of course,” you replied, hating the way your voice cracked; you turned your head away when she looked up at your face, defiantly wiping a tear from your cheek.  “You can keep it now, I don’t… I don’t need it anymore.  I just wanna forget.”

She cooed at you sweetly as she set the box aside, grabbing your face and wiping another tear away tenderly with her thumb.  You found the strength to look at her again, though you tried not to get your hopes up that she’d really come back.  “Oh, sweet thing,” she sighed, “we can’t forget.  Neither of us can.”

“Then how am I supposed to go on?” you wondered, sniffling.  “I don’t— I really don’t know if I can live like this—”

“Ah, hush,” she dismissed, “you’ll do fine— you can have any girl you want, you won’t have any trouble.”

“But I only want you,” you insisted, grabbing her wrists and holding them tightly.  “I only ever wanted you, Kitten.”

Now she turned away, looking like her eyes might be getting misty.  “N-now, that can’t be true,” she denied softly.

You laughed a little, mostly out of amazement rather than amusement.  “Who the fuck else did you think I wanted?” you wondered.  She got her hands free from yours, chewing her lip and crossing her arms, but you stepped closer again.  “Kitten, who else would I possibly want?”

“Well, you know,” she stalled, “I just wondered if maybe… I mean, nobody could blame you if— you know, you’re… you’re a lesbian!”

“You’re just now noticing this?”

“No, I mean,” she choked, “I just mean maybe… maybe you would’ve wanted…”

She didn’t say it, she just held her hand up to her mouth— starting to bite her thumb nail nervously— and finally met your gaze.  And you heard it in the air, you saw it in her eyes.  Maybe you wanted a real girl.

You knew she was sensitive about it sometimes… for the first few months you were together she didn’t even like you to see her naked, didn’t want to be touched too much down there.  Then it was okay as long as it was in the dark— or through panties.  It took a lot of patience and promises to get her really naked for you, and god was it worth the wait.  And now here you were, fucking bewildered that she could think you didn’t like what you saw.

“Kitten,” you breathed, stepping up and frowning when she looked away again.  “Kitten, look at me.  How could you think that?”

“I just—”

“Was I not obsessed with you enough?  Did I not kiss you enough, touch you enough?  You had me on my knees— you had me around your finger—”

“I know,” she groaned, “but doesn’t the novelty wear off after a while?  You got to try something, you know, different— strange.  But a fetish is just that, you know— not meant to be forever.”

“That’s why you left?”

She nodded.

“Oh, Kitten— you stupid, stupid woman.”

“Hey—!” she protested, cut off by your lips pressing onto hers.  The resistance didn’t last for more than a half-second, and then she melted into you in the most beautiful way.  The way you’d been imagining ever since she left… or, really, ever since you first laid eyes on her.

She hummed sweetly into the kiss, and let you pull her closer.  Normally this is where you would’ve dragged her to the bed, but the bed was an aforementioned hellhole, so you had to try to think quickly while your brain short-circuited from the loveliness of the kiss.

Tugging her back by the fur coat, you guided her towards the couch with you, bringing her into your lap without ever breaking your lips away; then you could tug the coat down her arms, exposing the impossibly-thin straps of her dress.  She dropped her freckled shoulders in a coquettish way, as you finally pulled back and admired the way you'd ruined her lipstick.

Running your hands down her arms, and then over her sides, you sighed at the sight of her draped in silk— the way her legs straddled your lap only made the dress ride up a little higher, and it was driving you wild already.  “Tell me you weren’t just dressed like this to run errands,” you laughed breathlessly as you pet her thigh, dragging your nails a bit to tickle her through the stockings.

“No,” she admitted, watching your hand brush over her garters and reach up under the skirt— only to come back down before it got too far.  She whimpered as you teased her, and you felt your chest fill with pride.  “No, I dressed up like this for you…”

“Fuck,” you groaned, “all for me?”

“Yes,” she sighed, partially an answer to your question, partially a response to the way you started to kiss her neck.

“Dolled up for me, huh?  Wanted me to see what I was missin’?”

She nodded, biting her lip, and you carefully ran your fingertips along the edge of her panties.

You scoffed as you lifted the dress and found those garters pinned to delicate lace.  “Earrings my fuckin’ arse,” you mumbled, tickling her inner thigh as she hummed coyly.  “Knew exactly what you wanted when you came here, didn’t you, naughty Kitten?”

Her smile fell into a shuddering gasp as you grabbed her between the legs, and she could only nod a little.

“Well, then come and take it,” you offered, grabbing her hips next and pulling her down onto your lap to rub on your thigh.  “Go on, lemme see how bad you missed me.”

She sighed, moving carefully at first, but then really started to rock against you as you groaned proudly.  “Oh, kiss me,” she pleaded after a moment, and you pulled her down to your open mouth.  Finally she was letting go, relaxing in your arms, kissing you and grinding on you shamelessly.  She moaned and hummed against your lips, and you ran your hands all over her body— the stocking-clad legs, the curve of her waist, up over her back and chest until you could hold her head.  You cradled her face in your palms as you pulled away, enough to speak to her softly while you ran your fingers through her hair.

"Can't go leavin' me again, Kitten," you warned her with a little tug on those lovely blonde curls.  "Need you too much.  Hear me?"

"Yes," she promised, panting as she thrusted herself a bit faster against your thigh.

"You're mine," you reminded her, and she moaned happily.  "Say it."

"Yours," she whined, gasping as you suddenly groped her chest through the silk.  You smirked when you felt her nipple harden against your palm: they were always so sensitive.  "Yours, all yours—"

You roughly tugged her dress down to suck on her tit, and she gasped before giggling sweetly as she held your head.

"Oh, you brute," she moaned, "you'll rip my dress—"

"You wanted me to," you challenged, letting your teeth graze the little bud until you felt her shudder in your arms.  "You put this dress on— these panties and stockings— and you thought about me ripping it all off of you, didn't you?"

Her hips jerked a little in your lap, and that was answer enough for you.  

"Needy little Kitten," you praised.  “Now let me suck these pretty tits.”

She moaned, head falling back, as you went back and forth between them, mostly shutting your eyes tight and remembering exactly how to lick and tease her, but occasionally looking up at her face: it was just perfect like this.

She whimpered as she started to grind harder against your thigh, pretty pink lips open loosely for her moans to pass through.  Just when you thought she was lost in it entirely, and you started to lean back to just look up and watch her go, she moved her own leg between yours to press against your heated centre.  You sighed a little and caught her raising an eyebrow as she looked down at you, looking a little proud of herself.  "Want you to feel good too, darling," she explained, nodding encouragingly.

You moved your hips and groaned as the friction made you shiver all over.  You'd gotten so turned on from watching and touching her that every movement made you groan softly, and you had to take a tight hold of her ass— which made her whine sweetly— just to have something to keep you steady.

"I want us to come together like this," she whispered.  "Don't you think it's romantic this way?  Just moving together, too desperate to slow down, feeling each other…?"

"This is how it was the first time," you reminded her through a sigh.  You remembered it like it was yesterday, even though it was months and months ago: the way she was so shy and delicate about it at first, the sweet noises she made for you as you touched her— Does little Kitten purr? you'd asked her teasingly.  She does when a handsome new friend makes her come, she'd replied, or gives her some money.

You'd done both, actually, desperate to make this lovely Kitten your pet.  It felt more now like she owned you, and you didn't mind it one bit.  "I remember, too," she giggled, "you said it was the most fun you ever had without taking your clothes off."

“And then I asked you to stay with me,” you remembered with a laugh of your own.  “I was yours from the start, Kitten, and you knew it, didn’t you?”

She didn’t answer, just petting your hair and lifting your head so you’d look up at her.  “I was yours, too, darling,” she promised, looking deep into your eyes.  “Now won’t you come for me?”

“I’m close,” you breathed, “fuck, Kitten— you wanna make me come, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she smiled, breathing heavily by your ear as you bucked your hips up against her faster.  “Yes, I’d like to see it.”

“I wanna see you soak those panties,” you countered, panting yourself as the pressure began to build.  “Show me, Kitten— show me that pretty face when you cream your little knickers—”

“Oh!” she yelped sweetly, and you could feel it— the pulsing between her legs, through the fabric of your pants.  You pressed even harder against her thigh and came, too, both of you moving helplessly and instinctively— and it was pretty romantic, like she said.  But it was dirty in just the right way, too.

“Good girl,” you praised, though your own voice wasn’t very commanding anymore as you were reaching your high.  “Fuck, you’re so good—”

You choked and dropped your head back, your hips slowing to a stop while she smiled and relaxed above you; “Darling,” she purred, leaning down and kissing your cheek with a conservative peck.  “That was lovely.”

You nodded in agreement, smiling up at her and tucking her hair behind her ear— it still looked pretty perfect despite all that it had been through.

“Now maybe let’s clean up and get some lunch,” she offered, but she whimpered when you grabbed her waist aggressively.

"No fucking way I'm done with you already," you growled, watching her eyes get a little wide.

You ran your hand up her body again, feeling the way her chest swelled and sank as she tried to catch her breath.

“Get them wet for me, love,” you ordered softly as you pressed two fingers to her lips, and she dipped down to wrap her mouth around them.  You hummed in praise as she sucked them gently, batting her eyes at you— because of course she would.

She looked at you expectantly as you dragged the fingers slowly from her mouth, watching her plump lip go slack and bounce back when you pulled the digits away.  “Gonna put those inside me?” she asked, trying to sound innocent.

“If you ask nicely," you teased.

“Oh,” she sighed, “please— I missed them, you know.  Missed how you feel inside me— any part of you, really— but those fingers, darling, you know what you can do to me with those…”

“Did you try with your own fingers?” you wondered with a smirk.

“With these nails?  Heavens, no,” she denied.  You reached into her panties and teased her hole with the wet fingers, circling her rim as she mewled, hoping to break her patience.  “C’mon then, did I not ask nicely enough?” she wondered after a minute or so of that.

“Lay down on your back,” you whispered your command to her, “and open your legs for me.  Then I can give you what you want, princess.”

She got up off your lap and sank down to the floor in front of you— you figured she would’ve stayed on the sofa, but this felt a little more submissive— laying back slowly and seductively.  How could she do that, look so much like an angel and vixen all at once, while just laying on the ground?

Looking up at you with sultry half-lidded eyes, she slowly spread her legs and let you get an eyeful of the stockings and garters, the lace panties stained with come, the sweetest legs and the heaven she'd been hiding between them.

You fell to your knees in front of her, snapping the garters off and yanking her stockings down to touch her bare, smooth skin.  “God, Kitten,” you breathed in awe, “you know exactly what you fucking do to me.”

“Missed this sweet little cunt, didn’t you?” she noticed with a proud smile.

“Course I did,” you panted, kissing up her thighs.  “You know I fucking did.”

You reached down and pulled her panties aside, pressing your fingers to her hole again, but this time you actually slipped one in.  She jolted a little when you pushed past the resistance, and you smiled.

“Always so fucking tight,” you praised softly, still kissing her bent knee gently but meeting her gaze now.  She had this look in her eyes when she had something inside her, a wonderful look you never wanted to go too long without seeing.

Tight, yes, but it was a needy hole, too— and you both knew she already wanted more than just one.  She moaned through a smile as you added the second, carefully stretching her open as her hands clenched fistfuls of the shag beneath her.

A shag on the shag. You would've snorted to yourself as you realised the humour in the situation if you weren't too wrapped up in how gorgeous she looked spread out on your floor like this.

You still only had the two fingers about halfway in, focusing on stretching her carefully and just barely teasing that little spot that you knew all too well— you wanted her begging, if you had anything to do with it.  You had to get some sense of control back after she'd walked in here and made a complete fool out of you.

She hadn't said anything yet, though, just moaned and rocked her hips against you.  Your free hand kept petting her thighs encouragingly, and you kept looking back and forth between her hole swallowing up your fingers and that gorgeous face lost in pleasure.

You pushed your fingers deeper, all the way to the knuckle, and she arched her back up from the carpet.  “O-oh, more, please,” she begged.

“More fingers?” you smirked.  “Two’s not enough for you?”

“No, I just mean—” she pouted, “I just want more of you…”

You leaned down and laid over her, bringing your face close to hers, as she looked at you with the slightest hint of nervousness in her eyes.  “Like this?” you offered under your breath, and she nodded before hiding her face in the crook of your neck.  She was rarely shy about sexual things, even when she pretended to be, but sentiment sometimes made her act like this— she didn’t like to ask you for affection, as if she still feared you’d reject her.  Generally, your solution to this was to shower her in it, so she’d never have to ask… but you had to admit, you loved the way she begged for you.

She moaned into your shoulder as you held her closer with your free hand, still curling your fingers inside her and finally properly rubbing the most sensitive place inside her.

She whimpered and bucked her hips a bit when you pressed against it, and you smiled; “There, baby?  Is that where you need it?”

“Yes, yes,” she mewled, clutching tighter onto you.  

You brushed through her curls with your fingers, trying to coax her out.  “Let me see that pretty face,” you cooed, laughing a little when she shook her head against you.  “No?  I don’t get to see my angel?”

She sniffled and pulled back enough to let you see her: big, wet eyes with her mascara beginning to smudge, her lip caught between her teeth.

“You’re so beautiful,” you promised softly.  “But I love you for who you are, Kitten.  You’re not a fetish, or a compromise.  You’re just the best thing that ever happened to me.”

She whimpered and held your face, kissing you sweetly— but the kiss got faster and more desperate at the same time that your movements inside her did, and soon she was making those sweet noises that you knew meant she would come again.

“Let me see one more time, love,” you requested, “lemme see that pretty face you make when I make you come.”

“O-oh, fuck, I’m close,” she promised.  “I’m close, darling— I’ll come, I’ll come for you—”

“Yeah,” you agreed encouragingly, “yeah, you’ll give my fingers a nice squeeze, won’t you?”

“Oh, yes,” she whined, arching her back deeper.  “L-lick them again, please…”

“Your tits, honey?”

“Yes, please, please—” she chanted, moaning louder when you dipped your head down and wrapped your lips around one of those cute little nipples.  You suckled at it while she came, thrusting your fingers into her while she writhed and whimpered out your name; you didn’t stop moving your fingers until she seemed like she was trying to move her hips away, and you didn’t stop kissing her breast until she pulled you away from it by your hair, dragging you up to kiss her— it was sweet and lazy and slow, yet with a sense of desperation felt not in the speed of it all but in the way she tried to hold you tighter with weak and shaking hands.

You must have kissed for ages before you broke apart, and you rolled onto your back at her side; the two of you laid on the floor, sweaty and sticky, panting as you looked up at the ceiling.

After a moment, she turned her head and looked over at you, and you looked back at her as she offered you the softest smile— a real heart-melter, that one.  Her smile made your knees weak from the very start.  Reaching forward, she wiped some of her lipstick off of your lip, and you kissed the tip of her thumb.

"You really do look awful," she said suddenly, and you chuckled nervously.

"Your pillowtalk skills have seriously diminished since the last time we were together," you noticed.

"No, I just mean— I could tell you'd been crying," she whispered.  

"Yeah," you sighed in return, moving a curl out of her face carefully.  "Well, like I said, I was pretty miserable once you left."

"Then why'd you let me leave?"

"I figured you'd met someone else," you breathed.  "You wanted to get out so fast— I thought maybe you found a man."

"A man?" she repeated, lifting her head slightly in shock.

"You don't have too much trouble with men," you reminded her, and she laughed.

"I only have trouble with men," she assured, and you felt her hand reach for yours, clammy fingers tangling together.  "Besides— who else would I possibly want but you, darling?"

#patricia braden x reader #kitten braden x reader #kitten braden smut #cillian murphy x reader #breakfast on pluto

[e-m-ma-lmfao]

Protect You Always

pairing : cloud strife x (fem) reader

summary: tifa is sure that cloud has feelings for you. so sure that she accidentally makes you confess.

warnings: none :)

“Could you go run errands with Cloud today?” Tifa held her hands out to you, mock pleas all over her face. 

“Huh? Why me? Why can’t you?” She backed away, turning to concoct another drink up for you, loosening you up to ask for her favour most likely. 

“Sure I could. But..he seems to have taken a liking to a certain mercenary sitting at my bar.” Suddenly your drink caught in your throat. With flushed cheeks you moved your almost empty cup up to your lips to hide your face as much as possible from anybody listening in. That was crazy. Cloud didn’t feel anything for anybody, except maybe…you thought for Tifa? With her back still turned she let out a small laugh, and you could feel the smile burning on her face. 

“That’s not funny Tifa.” Quickly she turned to face you, startling you enough to set your drink down onto the surface of the bar, as she pointed an accusatory finger at you. 

“And I’m not joking. It’s so obvious. He is the nicest to you out of all of us,” she turned to grab the drink and then returned to hand it to you, “Plus he does literally everything you ask him to for FREE, you think he does that to all of us? No way.” If you thought about it long enough, she might be right. You could think of a couple examples of Cloud maybe showing you a little more attention then the rest of the group. 

He had walked you home from the bar almost every night for the past year that you had known him. Without fail. Without asking. “Girls like you shouldn’t walk around at night by themselves, it’s not safe.”

“I’m completely capable of walking myself home Cloud”.

“I know”

You would have a little too much to drink or none at all, completely sober and capable of walking yourself down the short street of the slums to your apartment. Didn’t matter, he was still walking you home. 

Cloud had never once used the excuse that it was because he lived right above you, and even if he had you would be able to easily tell he was lying because he wouldn’t go home after dropping you at yours. 

There was even that one time where you laid your head down on the surface of the bar for five minutes and had woken up in your bed the next morning unsure of how you had even got there, perhaps Cloud avoiding you the next day had nothing to do with that. 

Sometimes, when a guy would shoot an inappropriate comment in your direction, Cloud’s cheekbones would become more prominent. Why was he clenching his jaw? And why did he suddenly seem all pouty? You never paid much attention to them anyways and carried on with your day without being bothered by a sleazy guy in the street. Maybe it was simply coincidence that Cloud would always disappear for a couple hours after, without a good excuse or just leaving with a prompt, “I’ll see you later, I have something to take care of.”  

However those guys did seem to always end up coming to you with some sort of apology later that day or even the next, roughed up and clearly not there out of free will. 

And when you would ask him to do certain things for you that somebody had asked of him the same day. Tifa was right, he never asked you for payment, you couldn’t even remember a time he had accepted payment from you.. Every time you tried to pay him he refused it, pushing it back towards you. “Let's count it as a favor and say you owe me one.” Your face would scrunch up in annoyance but it would fade just as quickly as it had appeared when a barely noticeable smile would upturn Cloud's lips and his eyes would brighten the smallest bit.

“Who knew someone could have such a nice smile when they're all moody and scary all the time.”

“You think I’m scary?” Cloud seemed to make a habit out of smiling around you after that day. 

The sound of Tifa’s soft laughter had brought you back to the conversation happening in front of you, her eyes were staring into yours and you could feel your cheeks warm at her catching you daydreaming. 

“Thinking about Cloud?” You opened your mouth to retort but another voice interrupted you before you could. 

“Who’s thinking about me?” You were mortified, spinning in your chair to see Cloud approaching the bar, most likely coming to collect Tifa for their run to see who needed help. A job that you, unfortunately, had forgotten before he had made his presence known. 

“Just your favourite girl seated at my bar.” Tifa gleamed, grin wide and it only grew wider when she looked between your faces. You were flushed, embarrassed, eyes full of maybe anger and a want to hide from the earth. Cloud tried to be stoic, but he gave away his true feelings by the obvious pink tint to his cheeks and the way his mouth opened as he looked towards you. Words caught in both of your throats.

“I won’t be going with you today because I have some extra stuff to do around the bar. Is it okay if y/n goes in my place?”

“Uhhh..” Clouds hesitation made you want to crumble into a ball. If Tifa was right , and he did like you, then why wouldn’t he say yes right away? 

“I don’t have to, honestly! I can finish up for you here Tifa!” She’s shot daggers into you with her eyes.

“We’ll whoever’s coming with me, make it quick.” He stared between the two of you, face blank , before turning to go outside. You turned back to look at Tifa not waiting to hear the door close.

“What the hell are you trying to do?” It was your turn to shoot daggers into Tifa. 

“Just go with him, why is it any different than any other time?” In her hands she held a dirty class, wiping it down with a washcloth cloth as she spoke to you.

“Because Tifa now you’ve put this stupid idea in my head that maybe, and that’s a pretty big maybe, Cloud Strife might be feeling the same things I do.” She looked at you, concern rolling around in her eyes, and she looked like she was about to speak but you cut her off. 

“No. Seriously Tifa, I’m tired of you making it seem like me and Cloud might ever be anything other than co-workers. I can’t keep getting my hopes up over the same guy, and you're really not helping.” Her face was soft now, eyes full of pity before they shuffled towards the door. 

“What’s that look for?” You turned your body to follow her eyes. It occurred to, when you met his wide eyes, that you had not actually heard Cloud leave the bar. 

“I’ll be waiting..uhh..outside.” Cloud let out an awkward, silence breaking cough before letting himself out the door. 

“You are joking. This isn’t real. That didn’t happen. Why’d you let me spew like that?”

“I tried to stop you!” Before you could get any angrier at her she took your hands in hers and spoke before you. “I know that right now, in your head, the whole world just crumbled around you. But you should’ve seen the way Clouds face lit up. It was subtle but it was there.”

You went to speak but her finger met your lips. “Trust me. Go with him, and talk to him about this. Do not leave it.”

A sigh left your lips, tickling her finger enough to pull it away from yours lips, “What if you're wrong Tifa?” 

“If I’m wrong, free drinks for a year AND I’ll take over for you on every job with Cloud.” You gave her a somber nod and slipped from the barstool, dragging your feet out the door. 

Just as he had said he would be, Cloud stood not far from the door. From where you stood, and you weren’t entirely certain if you were seeing it right, but his cheeks seemed to be gleaming with an unfamiliar red color. As the door closed behind you, Cloud looked over, trying to hide the color blooming on his face. 

“Let’s go, I wanna get this done before the sun goes down.” He moves down the stairs quickly before you even get a chance to respond and your heart sinks but you follow after him anyways, heart in your stomach. 

The whole ordeal took the two of you maybe an hour and a half, but it felt much much longer. Silence overtook the two of you, both of you being much too stubborn to say the first word, so you worked in complete silence. 

When the job was done you almost slumped over in relief, but your heart had been sinking farther and farther in your body the longer it went on, and it was starting to affect you. 

“Hey Cloud,” the first words spoken between you for the last two hours, “I’m gonna head home if you don’t need anything else.” You couldn’t even hold eye contact, embarrassment burning your face. 

“I’ll walk you.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I know,” You looked up to where his mako tainted eyes were already burning into you, “But I’m still going to. We need to talk.” And with the words, you were sure you could throw up, heart fully sunk now. 

What was there to talk about? How he didn’t feel the same and Tifa had been leading you astray for months?

You walked silently beside him, skin crawling as you waited for him to say something. 

“I don’t think you’re getting your hopes up.” Hesitating, you looked up from your feet and tried to scan his face, but he was glued forwards. 

“What?”

“C’mon don’t make me repeat it. You’re a smart girl, are you gonna wait for me to spell it out?”  He shot a glance towards you and you were sure you saw it. He was red. Definitely not as red as you but the color was there!

Your heart returned back to your chest, almost tripping over your feet as you followed his quick pace. He was a man on a mission, always, and his steps were so hard to match.  “Oh!”

He didn’t say anything for the rest of the walk but he did ensure that you got up to your apartment safely.

“Would you come in for a second?” Cloud hesitated but he followed, closing the door behind him before standing awkwardly with his arms crossed. 

You sat on your bed and tried to think of the right words to say.

“I’m sure that Tifa has made it pretty obvious that I have ..romantic.. feelings for you.” Sitting down on the bed was the wrong move, you felt so much smaller than usual looking up at him, and his attention fully on you wasn’t helping much. 

“No kidding.” He rolled his eyes but let a small chuckle leave his lips. Cloud was usually so stoic, so serious, and you loved how he was never like that with you. It put a smile on your face. 

“Listen y/n,” Cloud moved towards you to sit on the bed beside you, closer than you would’ve expected from him, “I do feel the same.” A wide smile broke out on your face. his expression remained the same. 

“But you have to understand something.” And the smile flew from your face. Cloud was now showing emotion, his hand flying to your cheek, with concern flooding his eyes. 

“No. Don’t be sad,” His thumb rubbed soft circles against your skin and you weren’t even sure if he was consciously doing it, “I don’t want you to be in danger if we do this. I care about you and if people know that, you could be used to get to me. I can’t do that to you.”

You placed your hand on top of his, his thumb stopping its movement when you made contact, your other hand reaching for the one resting in his lap. “For you, I can be okay with that.”

“I don’t want you getting hurt, ever.” 

“Hey! I can handle myself pretty well, you know,” His face was still so serious, and it was making you nervous, “Besides I have my own personal bodyguard.” You pushed his shoulder gently, and a small smile broke out on his face. 

“Cloud?"

"Hm?"

"Could I..kiss you?” His mouth opened slightly, but he only nodded. 

Gently, you placed your hands on the sides of his face and pulled him in until he was close enough. His lips brushed against yours and they parted just a little more, you froze in front of him in a moment of flustered hesitation. Cloud took his chance in that moment and pushed his lips onto yours, still holding your cheek in his large, rough hand. 

It was quiet and you would’ve felt nervous, if it wasn’t for Cloud’s hands on your skin keeping you so stuck in the monet, and his surprisingly soft lips still held against you.

When he pulled away, his face was still centimeters from your face with your lips still touching slightly, and you almost crumbled from looking into his blown out eyes. You were certain that you looked the same way, your pupils always seemed to be huge when you looked at him anyways. 

“I promise I will always protect you.”

“Always?” His hand found yours, holding your fingers within his own, as gently as he could.

“Forever and always.”

#x reader #cloud strife x reader #cloud strife #final fantasy 7 #final fantasy vii #cloud ff7 #female reader #ff7 #oneshot #drabble

[julianalvarez9]

hot n cold / rúben dias

summary: being in the will-they-won't-they stage with rúben was confusing, to say the least. maybe a bit of rain during the treble parade can make things clearer for you.

wc: 1.1 words.

author's note: just a lottttt of pinning and tension that doesn't really get addressed, i'm sorry 😮‍💨 but they KNOW!!! 🙏🏻 also, lots of soft rúben for my soul 🙏🏻

rain in manchester. it shouldn't surprise none of you, part of the whole team that organized the parade, but still, it does.

first, the answer is to delay it. but, you all know the achievement is too big to overlook, so cancelling it isn't an option, with the fans and team all ready to celebrate the huge achievement only done once by a previous team. a direct rival, nonetheless. and considering there are already a sea of blue waiting for their home heroes, the answer comes rather easy: do it anyways. under pure, manchester weather.

the rain comes pouring down on all of you, and it almost feels predestined: like there was no other way of doing it. but also, you're freezing cold, rain soaking all your clothes and glueing them to your body. you couldn't care less at the moment, too focused on not missing a thing, which was difficult to do when jack was putting on a show for everyone to see.

your back clashes against somebody's front, and you want to turn desperately to offer your apologies, except, two big arms wrap around your figure, effectively immobilising you. "fuck, you're freezing" is the first thing the person says, and by his mere voice you know who it is.

you're not only dripping water with the sassines that can be perceived coming out of your lips. "i think that's the expected result when you're standing in the rain for one hour, rúben," you deadpan, and try to get out of his hold. you don't really care about prying eyes from fans right now, because the bus just got to its destination, so the coast is clear, one could say. but still, feeling you flush against him feels wrong, just because you know you're enjoying it far more than you should. he's a colleague, after all.

"come on, come here," he insists, and you can't really get out of his grip with the force he's caging you in now. you two are so close together that you can feel the medals hanging from his neck, and resting comfortably on his chest. his voice brings you back, and you feel like you've been caught staring, when in reality, you've not. "i'm hot. i can warm you up" he resonates, and although he doesn't refer to him being hot, but rather, his body temperature, which is notoriously higher than yours currently, you can't hel but laugh at the connotation. "wasn't really a secret that you're hot when you're shirtless, dias".

he tries to stifle a laugh, but still, the smirk painted on his lips, which enhances the little dimple he has in his cheek, betrays him. "anyways, you'll freeze to death," you say, turning a bit to get to see his face when you're speaking to him. you notice now the way that he's looking at you, so lovingly, that you're almost forced to turn around again to avoid getting flustered in his gaze. especially, when he shrugs your statement off. "wouldn't be such a horrible way to die, right?". thankfully, john comes before you can answer anything to the portuguese.

"come on, lovebirds, we have a treble to celebrate!".

you freeze at his words, and rúben is the one to move you forward when he starts walking, still holding you onto him, as if you'd leave his side at the first chance you had. that's what you would be supposed to do; but everybody's too drunk to remember any of the ruled you must follow, so you decide to follow that path too. except, you know that rúben doesn't have a drop of alcohol on his system, and you're not really in for drinking while at work: so you two are completely sober. "don't listen to him," he whispers when john's out of sight, and you realize you two are the only ones still in the bus. "but he's right. we have to get you warmed up. can't have my favorite staff getting sick, can we?".

ruben doesn't leave your side at all. not when you get down the bus, not when you enter the building. you don't see any of your colleagues, and your first instinct is to go out there, and search for them. for sure, they're all in place, doing their job, and you feel guilty not being there.

rúben gets to catch your wrist, just barely. "where are you going?" he asks, his eyes big and questioning. you only get to point with your thumb, signaling back towards where the exit to get to the stage is, but he's clearly not pleased with your answer. "you're not getting back there without a dry shirt" he says, giving you the blue shirt he had in his hold, and the towel a staff member had somehow dumped on him in a hurry. your eyes clearly spoke before you needed to, because ruben answered before you even muttered a word. "don't worry about me. see you out there, yeah?".

you're too focused filming and taking pictures to even see when rúben gets out, but the way the crowd cheers his name alerts you of his presence on the stage. the first thing you notice is the clear contrast between his shirt and the one the rest of his teammates are wearing. he has a nice, white shirt that hugs him just right, at the same time that marks him as a champions league champion. instead, the rest of the guys are wearing a light blue one, with light blue and neon yellow letters accentuating the fact that they're treble winners.

no one seems to notice the slip up, or at least, think it's accidental, but john sees you, and he knows. after all, it's not too complicated to put two and two together. he nods approvingly, like a proud father, only to shift his focus to clap rúben in the back. it seems to be a bit too strong to his liking given how fast he turns around, browns knitted together in confusion.

your focus gets taken out of their little interaction when jack does the next thing that has the crown roaring, and get reminded, again, of what your job here is. not to fool around with rúben, you chastise yourself, but still, can't help but look for him a few minutes after. this time, he's looking at you, and it makes your cheeks grow warm. he tugs his shirt and points at you, making a little thumbs up. rúben seems to mouth "looks good on you", and you playfully roll your eyes at him. "it's because it's yours".

#football imagines #football imagine #football x you #football x reader #rúben dias imagine #ruben dias imagine #ruben dias x you #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias fluff

[roronoaswifey]

(𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐀) 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐔𝐏 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐄

summary. how the one piece men react to you wanting to dance with them on the dance floor

pairing. monkey d. luffy, roronoa zoro, vinsmoke sanji, trafalgar d. law, portgas d. ace x gn!reader

warnings/tags. suggestive content, implied sex, mentions of alcohol consumption, very brief blood mention, reader grinds on one piece men

wc. 1.5k

kazu’s note. all i want is to grind on ace to give it up to me at the club??? is that so much to ask 😩

𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐊𝐄𝐘 𝐃. 𝐋𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐘

“you wanna go dance? bet!”

→ it’s surprising to see luffy off the dance floor, at the exception of a snack break

→ whether he looks a fool or not you don’t mind, not when he’s keeping up with your energy, vibing along with you to the beat of the song

→ half the time he’s off beat and nearly crushing bystanders’ feet but you’re nearly as hyped to actually have a heart to tell him so

→ tries his hardest to not hit you in the process but whenever he does he laughs it off and apologizes vaguely

→ luffy is naturally touchy as it is, so it’s to no surprise that he’s holding your hand in his, swaying along to the tracks, dragging your body with him

→ what is surprising, however, is the sudden shift of energy when the upbeat songs change to reggae music

→ even with his charming grin, your back is suddenly facing him and your hands are hoisted on your knees, shaking your ass absentmindedly as luffy catches what you throw

→ his brazilian blood is really coming through here, body moving fluidly with yours

→ he has his hands all over you, hips moving in sync to your own movements, as he hypes you up, going as far as smacking your ass

→ you both are so lost in the momentum that you fail to notice the way strawhats are visibly either in shock, distress or just as hype as y’all

→ his thrusts meet your bouncing almost frantically, and whether to blame it on the sake he might’ve stolen from zoro, he gets admittedly more turned on then usually

→ when the song comes to an end, you pull away, turning to face him and by a simple glance you both simultaneously come to an agreement, both your eyes glazed with lust

→ “meet me in the bathroom in five?”

𝐑𝐎𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐀 𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎

“hell no.”

“pussy.”

→ though you half expected this response it definitely still bummed you out. what was the point of clubbing if you wouldn’t dance?

→ you knew your man was shy but it’s nothing liquid courage can’t fix

→ simply threaten him with dancing with somebody else— preferably sanji— and suddenly he’s on the floor with you, cup in his hand and hand protectively over your waist

→ seeing as this is definitely a once in a lifetime opportunity you might as well make the most of it

→ you grabbed the hand he held you with and laced your fingers, turning around and letting your hips sway to the music as you began to whine

→ your backside pressed against him, your lowered his free hand onto your waist once more and started grinding on him, hips rotating to the beat

→ you heard his breath hitch and you only smirked, continuing your motions, knowing your man was an ass guy

→ “oi, what are you doing?”

→ you tilted your head and shot him a flat stare, before going back to your whining, occasional ass shaking involved, throwing it in motions you knew would drive him crazy

→ “dancing. you can touch y’know?” you reached back and brought his hand lower to the curve of your ass, so he could feel as you danced back on him

→ you almost consider stopping since he seemed so uncomfortable but the second you pulled up, a firm hand at your lower back pushed you back down

→ he’s as stiff as ever, although you notice that he hadn’t removed his hand from your ass ever since, and from the growing tent in his pants, you knew you were doing a good job

→ maybe next time it wouldn’t be as difficult to get him to dance

𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐊𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐉𝐈

“yes of course, i’m right behind you dear!”

→ but little did he know he really would be right behind you

→ you brought him to the floor, hand in hand, and you both innocently fell in sync into the melody of the song

→ sanji is a good dancing partner, his moves are fluid yet not entirely loose, and he’s always keeping a hand on you, whether it’s for enjoyment or possessiveness

→ the flow between you both was simple and easy, though when your song began to play, you almost couldn’t help the smirk that grew on your lips

→ in a swift move, your back is pressed against his chest, your hips moving in taunting motions as you bring his hand to encircle your waist

→ you swear you heard the gears in his head grind to a halt when you thoroughly began grinding on him, ass moving with more precision as you lowered your upper body, giving him a full view

→ he’s non responsive, splutters falling past his lips as he watches in utter awe at the way you move so beautifully against him

→ you throw it in a circle, up and down, whining and grinding on him and he isn’t sure if he should pass out or bleed to death or reciprocate your energy

→ when your hands are on your knees and you’re ticktocking to each beat, sanji decides he simply cannot do this, no matter how badly he wants to feel on your body

→ you’re too lost in the music to notice your boyfriend had disappeared mid song, and much to your dismay though you continued to dance

→ eventually usopp came to you with an unimpressed look and blood tainted fingers, “you murdered sanji, by the way, good going.”

→ you could only laugh, opting to check up on him later but you knew you definitely wanted to try it again

𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐆𝐀𝐑 𝐋𝐀𝐖

“absolutely not.”

→ you saw that answer coming miles away

→ you might be stubborn but so is law, and if he doesn’t want to go dancing with you on the floor then he definitely wouldn’t go

→ threats wouldn’t even work anyways

→ you figured that if you couldn’t bring him to dance then you’d bring dance to him

→ law is definitely a wall hogger, so as he laid against the nearest wall with you laying on him, you subtly began moving your hips, head bopping to the beat

→ he frowned but nonetheless didn’t comment since he did refuse your only request

→ with seconds passing, your dancing expanded from little shifts to full out whining, your ass pressed against his groin as you whined to the song, knees pressed together and your hands on your thighs

→ you heard him grunt but nothing else came so you proceeded to grind on him, shaking what your mama gave you, going as far as grabbing his hands and placing them on you

“y/n-ya…”

→ it seemed you had him speechless and it had you thinking if he didn’t wanna dance not because he didn’t like it but because he had never tried it

→ when you pulled back up to give your stiffened boyfriend a break, he grabbed your hand firmly and gave you a look

→ it took less than a few minutes to get him riled up but you definitely had a hard time walking the next day

𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐆𝐀𝐒 𝐃. 𝐀𝐂𝐄

“dance with me, y/n”

→ he’s actually the one that offered, hand on your lower back and leaning forward to speak his wishes into your ear

→ you both were already on the floor but had been dancing freely, until a certain song played and you already knew what kind of vibe he was looking for

→ his hands are all over your waist and dangerously close to your ass, and for the time being, you’re born facing each other, hips moving in sync

→ your arms are looped around his neck, chests pressed against another and you suddenly feel a rush of adrenaline run through

→ he has a look in his eyes, undoubtedly amused by your energy, and when you shifted to ground your ass on him, he rested his hands easily on your waist, his own hips following your motions

→ your grinding was slow and sensual, bending forward and enthralling him in the way you moved like jello

→ you were by no means a shy dancer and so was he, so when he placed his hat on top of your head, you only got more gassed, hands sliding down your thighs and twerking on him with meaning

→ he has a smirk on his lips as he whistles, hyping you up while you shake your ass, and unknowingly a crowd surrounds you both, shouting and hollering at your guys’ dancing

→ ace’s hands are all over your ass, not holding back, as he squeezes and encourages you further, and you’re no better, one hand clutching onto his hat and the other holding your chest

→ despite the people around you, you’re focused on his intoxicating touch, loving the way you could feel all of him as you rubbed yourself against him

→ the song eventually came to an end but you both were nowhere near done

→ “c’mon y/n, let’s take this elsewhere.”

let’s play a game: take a shot every time i say grinding, whining or ass 🤠

#roronoaswifey.exe #kazuha’s works 📂 #one piece #one piece fanfic #monkey d. luffy #luffy x reader #luffy x y/n #roronoa zoro #zoro x reader #zoro x y/n #vinsmoke sanji #sanji x reader #sanji x y/n #trafalgar law #law x reader #law x y/n #portgas d. ace #portgas d ace x reader #portgas d. ace x y/n #headcanon #one piece headcanons

[yuhzz]

pizza delivery! - idol mywk.skr x le sserafim 6th member fem!reader

summary: you still haven't confessed to sakura, so she takes the liberty to confess first after getting jealous about a pizza delivery call.

warning: fluff(again). you are an '00 liner.

word count: 1.4k words

==============

it's too obvious. you have a crush on your fellow member, sakura.

everybody knows it, except her.

or maybe she knows that you have a crush on her and she's just waiting for you to make a move about it.

or maybe vice versa.

the only problem was that...

none of the two of you were making a move about it.

today, you (along with the other members) are practicing for your upcoming comeback, unforgiven.

"1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, and uh!" yunjin counted as you all danced to the title track.

"w-wait a minute! i'm tired!" eunchae complained and dropped herself to the floor dramatically.

you giggled at her. "get up, manchae. you should at least sit on the couch if you're going to take a break" you said and offered her a hand.

a pout formed on her lips before accepting your hand and walking towards the couch. you chuckled at the youngest before feeling your phone vibrate against your pocket.

since your pants had a zipper securing your pockets, you had to zip it down before you took your phone out.

you raised your eyebrows upon noticing the familiar contact number. and as soon as you accepted the call and heard a voice, a huge smile was plastered on your face.

"hm?" you heard somebody hum behind you. when you turned around, you saw all the members trying their best to hear whoever it was you were talking to.

except for sakura who was quiet beside the other members.

anyway, as soon as you saw them get closer to you, you decided to move to the other side of the room.

"hello?" you asked.

"hello, ma'am? i'm right outside the building" the voice greeted.

"alright, wait. this is the pizza, right?" you tried reconfirming it.

"that is right, ma'am" after getting your reaffirmation, even your eyes were smiling.

"what the...? who has got her smiling like that???" chaewon wondered and tried of thinking of people you're close with who's probably going out on a date with you.

"hmm, maybe minji?"

"nope, minji's going out with hanni"

"maybe bae?"

"bae and jiwoo's got something going on between them"

"how about gaeul unnie?"

"also not her. you know she and yunjin are crushing on each other"

"then who could it possibly be?"

the other girls continued wondering about it, and sakura seemed to have had enough of it all.

so she stomped away aggressively and walks out of the room - slamming the door right behind her - catching you all off-guard.

you raised your eyebrows at them, silently asking about what happened.

however, all of them could only frown and shrug since they also do not know the reason why sakura acted like that.

"is everything okay there, ma'am?"

you heard the pizza delivery man asked.

"yes! yes, everything is completely fine..." you trailed off, slowly getting worried about your fellow member.

"uhm, sir. i'm really sorry about this but, can you just deliver the food up here instead? i know we talked about me picking it up but it just so happened that i have to do something" you apologized and hoped that he would agree so that you could talk to sakura.

"sure thing, ma'am."

"okay, thanks! by the way, the guard will probably ask where your destination will be so if you can, please walk up to him so that i can tell him you're delivering the pizza to us" you said.

the pizza delivery man obliged, walked up to the guard and handed him the phone.

"hello?"

"oh! hyun-seop oppa, the pizza's for us." after hearing your voice, hyun-seop happily replied, "noted on that y/n-ssi".

hyun-seop gave the phone back to the latter.

"hello, ma'am?"

"ah, sir. our dance practice room number is four. just ask the guard about the directions, okay?"

"okay"

he said and you hung up, almost rushing outside to find sakura right after.

"unnie...where are you?" you mumbled while looking around until suddenly, you heard incoherent whispers near the bathroom.

"damn it, i should've known she didn't feel the same" someone cursed.

you raised your eyebrows and wondered who it was. although the familiar voice kinda gave it away already.

as you turned the corner, you saw sakura leaning against the wall.

her hands were inside her pockets whilst her right foot was kicking the air.

she looked cute and you know it.

with a subtle smile, you called her out. "unnie. what are you doing here?" you asked, almost whispering, but it was loud enough for her to hear.

her cheeks suddenly flushed, and now she was trying to compose herself in front of you.

"me? nothing...just...waiting for the restroom to empty out" she lied.

"eh? but no one's inside though..." you pointed out and she just noticed.

"uh..." she trailed off.

noticing that she seemed tense and somehow nervous, you approached her and held her shoulders, caressing them softly, showing her that whatever her problem is, you'll always be there to listen to it. in fact, you were like this even towards the other members but sakura was special.

she held a special place inside your heart.

so even if her problem's about breaking your heart or something, you'd still listen and do everything for her.

because you like her.

wait, no.

scratch that.

you love her.

"unnie, be honest with me. lately, you've been avoiding the other members and i, now, you just simply walked out without context. is there something wrong going on?" you asked her.

you worried even more when she didn't answer.

what is really going on?

"i..." finally, she uttered a word.

"y/n"

"yes, unnie?" you were getting ready.

"i..." she trailed off, building suspense.

you were utterly curious about what she had to say.

and at last, after a few minutes of waiting, she said the words you least expect to come out of her mouth.

"i like you"

she said, examining your face to see what kind of reaction you will have.

you, on the other hand, didn't know what to feel.

is this even real?

your eyes were wide.

"u-unnie" you stuttered, not knowing what to say.

is it really true?

is it true that the person you've been crushing on, likes you back?

"holy- this must be a dream" you mumbled.

"is this only a dream, unnie? are you only a dream? God, my crush like me back in my dream!" you exclaimed, your mouth slightly ajar.

she giggled.

damn.

even her giggle sounds like heaven to you.

just how much have you fallen for this girl, y/n?

"maybe this is just a dream-"

suddenly, you were cut off.

if your eyes were wide then, it sure is wider now.

your stomach started puking butterflies (is it even possible for your stomach to puke butterflies?) when you felt her warm lips against yours and holy shit.

it was real. this is real. she was real.

a few seconds later, she slowly pulled back and gently opened her eyes - almost immediately giggling when she saw your state.

"i'm glad i was wrong about you liking someone else" she said and smiled.

"come on, let's go back" she mumbled and took your hands.

you let her do whatever it is she wanted.

but one thing made you wonder.

"unnie, why did you leave earlier?" you asked her.

she tensed up and blushed hardcore when you brought that topic up.

"earlier...?" she asked.

"mhm," you hummed.

"well- i uh- how do i put this?" she shyly laughed.

"uhm, i was jealous?" she was sure yet unsure.

"jealous? why?" you pondered.

"i was jealous because of the person you were on call with" she sighed.

you raised your eyebrows.

"you were jealous of the pizza delivery guy?" you asked.

she faced you and had her eyebrows furrowed.

"pizza...delivery guy?" she asked you.

"uhm, yeah?"

"oh" was all she could say. you wondered and started to worry again. who did she expect you were talking to?

"hello? unnie?" you snapped your fingers in front of her.

"i can't believe i was jealous for nothing" she mumbled to herself and chuckled.

"huh? what is it?"

"no, nothing" she sheepishly smiled and continued walking again - her hands still against yours.

you were dead curious about what she just said but thought that maybe it was better not to pry.

and sakura silently thanked you for it.

because if you did pry and asked more about the topic, you would've been teasing her non-stop right now.

but of course, that doesn't mean that she hates getting teased, especially by you.

in fact, it was something that she looks forward to.

#le sserafim imagines #kpop x reader #le sserafim x reader #miyawaki sakura #sakura #sakura x reader #miyawaki sakura x reader #kpop #le sserafim #yuhzz #kpop gg #le sserafim scenarios

[loveforsatoru]

Our Blue Spring- Satoru Gojo x Fem Reader (Chapter 4: To Get Over You)

Shoko, Suguru, and Megumi watch from outside Satoru's office as he weeps, the pieces of the broken camera scattered along the floor. It felt like he was never going to stop crying. All of them were hurt when you left as well, but nothing would compare to how Satoru's been holding up. Neither of the 3 knew how to break the silence, but someone had to go in there and at least try to console him even if it seems impossible.

"I'll go." Shoko volunteers.

The 2 others look surprised at her willingness, but didn't protest.

She hesitantly cracks the door open before stepping inside. Satoru didn't notice she was there until she pulled out a stool and sat beside him.

He looks up at her with his eyes full of tears, and sleeves drenched. He quickly looks away, embarrassed and attempts to reach for his blindfold before remembering he threw it in the far corner of the room. He didn't want to be seen like this, at his most vulnerable. You were the only one he showed his true emotions around. He isn't used to being this way around other people.

The two sat in silence for a couple moments before Shoko spoke up.

"Gojo, it's been 7 years. You need to at least try and move on."

Her words made his heart hurt. There's no chance he'd be able to get over you, not after his numerous failed attempts at doing so. He's accepted the fact that he'll never move on from you. That part doesn't bother him. Only the lack of your presence.

"But I can't." He replies, voice hoarse from crying.

Shoko looked at him, mentally cursing at herself for believing that would be enough, but she couldn't let him find out how you've been doing. It would only pain him more. She's been in secret contact with you for years and promised she wouldn't go against your wishes of keeping your whereabouts private, especially from Satoru. Nobody knows how you've been doing except for her.

"I need to talk to her at least one more time. I need closure. Even if she doesn't want anything to do with me after that. I need to know why she left, how she's doing, if she's even thinking about me." He was beginning to ramble. Shoko wants so badly to tell him where you are and to go win your heart back, but she can't. You would never forgive her if she did.

"You can't do that. Don't even think of contacting her in any way. She doesn't want to see you again" Her voice came out harsh, and demanding, which only made Satoru's blood boil.

"How the hell would you know? It's not like she's spoken to anyone from around here for the last 7 years."

"Because if she wanted to be with you, she wouldn't have left. You need to get that through your head. She won't be coming back. Not for me, not for you, not for anyone else."

Of course, she doesn't know that. She doesn't know if you'll decide to ever come back, or if you still love him, but she knows you did all those years ago. She just needs to crush his thoughts about contacting you. He doesn't know how many problems that would cause.

Yet her words still cut through Satoru like glass. He didn't want to accept that you were really gone. A small part of him still had hope that you would return, but hearing somebody tell him the opposite made him begin to question it.

He looked down at his feet, feeling ashamed that he'd let himself be so naive, but he couldn't help it. The small possibility that you would one day be back gives him motivation to get out of bed in the morning.

"Shoko, please. Let me borrow your phone to call her. She blocked me the day she left and I know how close the two of you used to be. Maybe you're still in her contact list."

Hearing the way his voice quivers makes Shoko feel bad and almost give in, but she has to hold her ground.

"I'm sorry, Gojo, but I can't do that. I wish I could, I really do, but it's for the best if you don't know. Don't try and take matters into your own hands by snooping around in her business. You'll only hurt yourself. She's hiding from you for a reason. You can't change that. Accept it and move on."

With that, she leaves the room, not wanting to argue with him any longer. Megumi and Suguru who were watching everything go down turn to look at Shoko, not surprised by how it went. Megumi was about to walk into the room, try his best to console Satoru, but Suguru stopped him. It wasn't the right time.

It's beginning to get dark outside. The building is empty as it's far past school hours. Satoru hadn't moved from his place while everyone else went home. The silence was making his skin crawl. It's uncomfortable, suffocating.

Shoko's words have been repeating in his head nonstop. He wants to get to you, contact you, beg you to come back to him, but what if you deny him? He doesn't know what he'd do with himself if that were the case. Did he possibly do something to drive you away? Did you leave because of him? He wants the answers to his questions. He never got the closure. It bothers him to not know what caused all of this, and how he could've prevented it.

He wants to call you. It's not like he hasn't tried before. He's done it over 100 times, but they all resulted in nothing. He would never admit how half of the times he called you was just to hear your voicemail.

Maybe this time it'll be different.

He pulls out his phone from his pocket and clicks on your contact. It's the only one in his favorites.

*Ring*

*Ring*

*Ring*

"Hey!"

His heart nearly stops beating. Is this really happening?

"It's y/n, unfortunately I'm busy and unable to answer the phone right now. Leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can!"

Just like that, his hope fades away even more when he realizes you had just changed your voicemail.

He sighs in frustration and slumps against the chair, staring up at the ceiling. He needs to clear his head and get some air.

He pushes his body off the chair with the little energy he has and picks up his blindfold, stuffing it in his pocket followed by throwing his sunglasses on, the ones you gave him for his 19th birthday. He's never worn another pair.

He walks through the empty hallways and thinks about how much time he's spent here. He regularly catches himself falling asleep on his office desk whenever the sleep deprivation begins to catch up to him. He's not at home as often. Though, he doesn't know if he can call it that without you there. You made it a home. Now, it's just a place he goes to every now and then.

The moment he steps outside, the winter air hits him, making him shiver. The sun is starting to set, the street lights being the main thing to illuminate the area around him. He strolls through the busy streets of Tokyo, people crowding all around him as he looks at the street attractions and stores. Somehow, they all connect back to you. Shopping malls, movie theaters, ice cream shops, cafes, there's a vivid image of you in every one. You liked a lot of things and Satoru always made sure to keep a mental note of all of them. He wonders if you still like the things you used to.

His mind is so occupied that he doesn't realize he's taken a bunch of wrong turns, ending up in a sketchy block. Strip clubs, broken down stands, barely any working street lights, making it darker than where he was previously.

He walks further down the road, eventually finding himself in front of a seedy bar. He doesn't typically go to bars as he's not much of a drinker, but he figures he'll go this time. Maybe it'll distract him.

As he walks through the door, he's immediately met with loud music blaring through his ears, making him want to walk right out and just go back to his apartment, but something's telling him to stay. He makes his way over to a stool in front of the bar counter and orders himself a glass of juice. He watches as people gamble, drink, smoke, and play games, seemingly carefree.

He wishes he could live a life without worries just for a day, but he knows that's impossible with the life that he's living. The strongest Jujutsu sorcerer whose life revolves around protecting others, but that's not even the hardest part. He's more than capable of wiping out half the universe, but this much strength isn't worth all the loneliness and suffering. He's grown accustomed to being alone, but that doesn't mean he enjoys it. It's something he has to live with whether he likes it or not.

He was beginning to get lost in his thoughts again before a woman approached him. She's beautiful, seems nice enough, so he responded when she spoke to him.

"Hey, mind if I sit down?"

Satoru shakes his head and motions for her to take a seat before turning his attention back to the glass of juice he hadn't touched, the ice beginning to melt.

The woman starts asking him questions in an attempt to get to know him better. He responds with little to no interest, only a shake, nod, dry chuckle, or a thumbs up.

"What's your name?" She scans him up and down, eyes landing on his exposed collarbone.

"Gojo." He replies, loud enough for her to hear.

"First name?"

"We aren't there yet." His harsh response makes her roll her eyes, but she decides to keep going.

"What do you do for a living?"

"I can't reveal that."

He seems like a stuck up asshole, but he can't be bothered to care. He's not even dressed formally, still in his jujutsu uniform. All he wanted was an escape from his own thoughts. This isn't helping.

"Won't you have a drink with me?"

He was about to turn down her offer, explain that he doesn't like to drink much, but he decides against it and agrees, ordering two shots for the both of them. He's felt stuck and unable to do anything for years, warped in an endless loop of misery. He'll try to let loose a little, try to put himself out there. What better way to do that than with alcohol?

The drinks eventually help him converse with the woman sitting next to him. He didn't reveal much about himself, but she was content with the fact he was no longer being dry.

"So, are you from around here?" She asks, taking a 2nd shot at getting to know him. She twirls her hair between her fingers, in an attempt to make herself look more appealing, but he pays no mind. She's looking at him as if she wanted to fuck him, which she definitely does. He's been approached countless times by women. He's not an idiot, he knows he's attractive but he always turns them down.

"Yeah, lived here my whole life." He responds, looking at her for the first time that night.

"Are you single?" She runs her fingers over his hand, but he's quick to pull away, putting his hand in his pocket. It feels wrong to be doing this. Flirting and talking to another woman in a seedy bar. It's almost as if he is in a relationship despite being single for over 7 years, but to him, you're always his #1. That wouldn't ever change.

"It's... complicated?" He responds, knowing full well it's not, but he doesn't intend to take it any further with this mystery woman.

"So what? You going through something with your girlfriend?" She asks, somewhat annoyed that he's denying her obvious advances, but she won't give up that easy. Who would pass up a chance with Satoru Gojo?

"You could say that." An insincere chuckle leaves his lips, tapping his fingers against the wood of the bar table, littered in empty beer bottles and shot glasses. He's starting to question what the fuck he's doing here.

"Let me help you take your mind off of her then. I promise you'll forget about her by the end of the night." She scoots her seat closer to him, leaning her elbow against the countertop and resting her head in her palm, nearly drinking in his appearance.

"Don't make a promise you can't keep. She's unforgettable." And he means it.

A few hours go by and the night outside only continues to grow darker as he orders more and more drinks, chugging one after the other. He can feel his head pounding, alcohol running through his body. He hates it. He hates the smell, he hates the taste, the way it makes his throat burn and chest tighten.

The woman is now practically sitting on his lap, his hand on the small of her back with her arms wrapped around his neck, kissing up his jaw. He listened to her talk as if he was interested in what she was saying, but he wasn’t, not one bit. His head has clouded with thoughts of you the entire night. If only she knew the reason he's staring at her like that is because he's thinking of you.

She leans in for a kiss before Satoru turns his head away and her lips land on his cheek, guilt and shame beginning to sink into him.

"I can't do this. I need to go." He shoves her off of him, grabs his stuff and leaves. He could hear her call out for him.

"Why are you leaving?!"

"Because you're not the one that I want!" He replies, already out the door and making his way back to where he was supposed to be in the first place: His side of the bed, leaving yours empty because he can't bring himself to sleep on it. He sure as hell won't let another woman there either.

None of these women are you. They don't look like you, smell like you, talk like you, laugh like you, feel like you. Nobody understands him like you. Nothing will ever compare to you.

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojou satoru x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo fanfic #gojo satoru x you #gojo x y/n #jjk angst #satoru gojo x reader #gojo angst

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

Hi. I hope your day is being kind to you. 🙂

For the sentence Ask?

"My ears miss your heartbeat."

With Astarion x Evie (Ace!Tav) please? If you want.

Astarion x Evie (Ace!Tav) Masterlist

A/N: Sorry, this went well over an extra 5 sentences. I guess I really just needed to write.

Warning: Tooth rotting domestic fluff

Word Count: 1.1K

Astarion didn’t make a sound as he slipped through the front door, stilling the bell with his hand before it could alert anyone to his presence.

The shop was completely empty, which would not be unusual at this time of night were it any other shop in town. The owner kept odd hours, not opening until well after sunset, the exception being when his wife managed to stumble down the stairs past noon to take orders. An odd set up, but nobody could deny the craftsmanship and so there was little to grumble about.

Astarion moved through the space with practiced ease, not bothering to light a candle as he moved towards the back room and up a small flight of stairs. He did not so much glance at the rolls of golden thread, or dig around the drawers for where he knew a small fortune of gems and finery could be found and easily pocketed. Such treasures were far from his mind at that moment.

Jumping the last few steps, he easily avoided the small creak of the second to top panel before deftly maneuvering his way through the waiting door.

The barest breath of relief escaped his lips. The entryway was completely dark, only just illuminated by the street lanterns peaking through the barest sliver of heavy curtains. Once again his dark vision proved a blessing as he took a quick look around.

The room was empty of anything other than comfortable but undeniably stylish furniture and the lines of bookshelves full bear to bursting along the walls. He slipped off his boots, placing them gently near the door making it almost comical how silently he could move along the beautifully embroidered rug. It felt like cheating, but then again, since when was he above cheating.

One final door lay in front of him. At his feet he could see the smallest flicker of candle light peaking out from below the door frame. Somebody was still up.

With a grin, he turned the doorknob and slowly pushed the door open.

It was moments like these that cause Astarion to lament not having a more artistic hand. The being before him deserved to be preserved in oils and canvass, marble and stone.

She did not notice him come in. Her clear blue eyes were focused intensely on the page in front of her, her finger moving slowly under the words while her soft lips mouthed them in time. Her hair lay loose about her, a few strands tucked behind her ear. Astarion could just catch the barest hints of white hiding in the field of black, something she would no doubt deny the existence of if he pointed them out. Her dark olive skin seemed to glow in the firelight, but the final detail that make his unbeating heart stir was the fact she was dressed only in his shirt.

On second thought, maybe it was a good thing he wasn’t a painter. He didn’t much like the thought of anyone else gazing on this image but him.

“Hello darling,” he said, softly.

Evie’s head snapped up, her eyes going wide in alarm as her hand gripped the book in her hand as of to throw it. As soon as he caught the quick progression of fear to recognition to annoyance slip across her face he let out a laugh.

“Milil’s tongue Astarion,” she grumbled, snapping her book shut. “You’re going to give me a heart attack one of these days.”

“Just be happy I’m the one doing it,” he teased, setting down his bag beside the door. “You’re getting slow my love.”

She gave a small pout, but still rolled onto her back, opening her arms to him.

He didn’t need further incentive, launching himself onto the bed causing them both to bounce and his love to laugh. Gods he missed that sound. However, he decided he missed her lips more, kissing her soundly as they both sunk into the too soft mattress.

“Good trip then?” she asked in between his attentions to her mouth.

“Tedious,” he corrected. “Better if you were there.”

“Well if it was so tedious I’m glad I skipped it.”

Astarion gave a huff of annoyance moving his lips across her face and jaw and down towards her neck. He took a deep breath in, the musk of her skin mixing with the perfume of her blood pulsing just below. He could drown in that scent.

“Hungry,” she asked, turning her neck slightly in invitation.

He shook his head pressing a kiss against the fading scars.

“No need darling, just enjoying being home.”

He didn’t need to look up to know she was smiling. He could feel it in the way her hands rubbed up and down his back and brushed the stray hairs at the back of his neck. All the same, he decided to look anyway.

This was his home. Even all these years later, he still had a hard time believing it. He and Evie had all but hung up their adventuring gear and settled in a town just big enough to justify a fine tailor shop. The occasional helpless damsel or bandit gang causing trouble could pull them from their daily routines, but little else. They were both getting older and ready for a place to call their own, something that was denied to them for so long. Even stranger and more wonderful still, Evie had agreed to marry him.

She brushed a stray hair back from his forehead, her fingers tracing down his face before teasing the edge of his ear.

“I missed you, too,” she said, her full love only just tempered by a hint of humor.

He didn’t have the strength to pull away from that perfect touch, and settled kissing her sternum in response.

“I did plenty more than just miss you darling,” he confessed. “There are too many parts of me that miss too many parts of you.”

“Oh?”

He nodded. “For example, my lips missed your lips quite a bit.”

“I gathered,” she said with a barely contained laugh. “What else?”

“My hair missed your fingers.”

The corners of her eyes crinkled in amusement as her hand moved slightly up, allowing her fingers to comb slowly through his hair.

Astarion sighed in contentment, settling his head to rest comfortably on her chest.

“Go on my love,” Evie encouraged. “Don’t stop now.”

“My arms missed your warmth,” he said, wrapping himself tighter around her for emphasis. “My nose missed your smell. But if I really had to name it, my ears missed your heart beat the most.”

“And you say you’re not a sentimental,” she teased.

“Exceptions are always made for you my heart.”

She hummed in acknowledgment settling into the sheets, her fingers still running soothingly through his hair.

Astarion feel asleep in her arms as he had done for countless nights and hopefully countless more; safe, loved and truly home.

#astarion #baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 #astarion x tav #astarion x oc #astarion ancunin #astarion x evie #spawnsong #baldurs gate 3 #asexual!tav #bard!tav #astarion ancunin x tav

[sapphirelightningbug]

Under the Starlit Night [Chapter 1: Sweaty Floors and Swivel Chairs]

credit to artcraawl

Summary: Nightwing owns the nightclub that Starfire dances at, they meet at her day job she doesn’t know it’s him but he knows it’s her, when she falls for both of them, drama ensues.

Word Count: 3k

Chapter Warnings: minor suggestive material, creeps, mentions of addiction, minor violence, blood, cigarettes

general masterlist | series masterlist

let me know if you want to be tagged!

The nightclub was dark except for the neon lights that gleamed brightly at Starfire as she danced onstage, her heels pressed deep into the hardwood. Brilliant blues, greens, and yellows danced across her brown skin, her pink hair and glossy green eyes shone a variation of colors as the lights bounced off her. She spun around the matte silver poll gracefully as she subtly looked around the club to look for the owner, a man only known as Nightwing. She looked into the faces of every dark-haired man in the room winking or blowing kisses sparingly until she finally landed on a familiar face, he sat in the back corner of the club watching with a cold gaze, she knew it was a façade, a look he put on for the public. He was a friend, a respectful and nice guy. She stifled a snicker as she saw his fake stern expression.

She blew him a kiss her glossy lips reflecting hues, he smirked, and she continued to dance her elegant movements, appealing to the men watching. This kind of banter between them was usual, they wouldn't call it flirting, of course they wouldn't but it was familiar and they both got a kick out of it.

Soon enough the song was over and it was her turn to mingle with the crowd. As per usual for a Saturday evening, the turnout was decently large which she would be pleased with when she counted her cash at the end of the night. Not that she did it for the money, it was nice of course but she had her day job, well paying, and what she had gone to college for. She was happy to say she was successful and kept her secret evening work under wraps. 

Men approached her as she walked off stage she looked for somebody she would be able to get a good sum out of that evening, even though she was very popular for her extraterrestrial features she had a small list of clients one of the men was sitting in his usual chair by the aisle, her heels clicked on the ground as she neared him, "Mr. Harper it's a pleasure to see you tonight, the normal?" She questioned, the man nodded he was simple, he smelt good, and kept himself in line so she never minded providing him with her services.

Still, Nightwing did, he watched as Starfire started her dance with her most loyal regular it was always the same, boring honestly. She looked uninterested but attempted to keep a smile on her face. He watched the older man hold her waist, and Nightwing grimaced. 

Star was Nightwing's favorite dancer in his club a sweet girl with eyes like no other and he wasn't even close to complaining about her other assets, she was all in all a beautiful woman, not that he'd say that to her. It would seem too inappropriate, and anyway, she was his friend, someone he cared about as more than just an employee. He watched her move like liquid on the man's lap, he wished it was him, her fuchsia locks were pulled into space buns and he imagined what it would be like to run his fingers through her soft hair. He silently scolded himself for thinking about her in such a way.

She stood up from the man's lap, and he slithered the money into her bra between the fabric and her skin, "Thanks darling, maybe next week you can wear that little pink get-up with the leather boots?" She giggled at him and pushed a curl behind her ear that fell in her face. He knew the exact outfit he was talking about barely any fabric and some pink leather cowboy boots he wasn’t kidding when he said little, she mentally scowled at the idea.

"Why? You don't like this one mister?" He ran his hand down the side of her waist brushing against the neon green body suit she wore. His touch sent a shiver of disgust down her spine. The man’s wrinkly hands are calloused and rough he clearly didn’t know how to handle a woman.

"Matches your eyes, baby, but you look better in pink," she nods before running her slim fingers through his hair and responding.

"I'll consider it," She smiles at the blonde-haired man, "But I better be off see you next week, love!" She strutted off to the back of the club where Dick sat.

"Hey Boss," She rested a hand on his bicep, he looked up at her through his mask, he nodded in her direction. He looked over her curvy body in the body suit she wore and smiled to himself she was gorgeous and he was her superior, nothing could ever happen. He brushed her hand off.

"Anyone causing you any trouble tonight?" She appreciates his caution, she shakes her head. 

“Other than you and that scowl?” She giggles, you looked like an upset toddler back here. Dick rolls his eyes behind his mask and slightly shakes his head chiding her.

"You gonna dance anymore tonight?" He asked pressing a piece of gum between his lips, he swore it kept him from smoking but he took notice of his habit getting worse and worse these days, one he picked up from his little brother.

"On stage?" He nods, "No, I'm starting to get tired but I think I made good money just then and I might do a few more dances I see some of my regulars look lonely," She giggles, his jaw clenches, and then relaxes.

"If you need anything call me over," He waves her off, and she walks down the aisle to a blonde-haired man.

"Hey, looking for some company?" A flash of recognition goes over his face, he nods before patting his knee. She sat distributing most of her weight onto her feet instead. 

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen you sweet cheeks, got any exciting news?” He ran his hand over her back and she shook her head. “Hm, really nothing?” 

“Nothing too exciting I’ve been missing you though,” she smiled running a hand over the man’s shoulder, he slipped a 20 into her stocking at her thigh.

“Whatever that will do for me,” It wasn’t much but she’d give him a few minutes of her time, she smiled before starting to dance a little for him and she felt his hands start to wander on her body and she began to feel uncomfortable. Starfire looked over to the dark man in the corner where he still sat and her eyes pleaded at him showing her discomfort. 

He stiffened before standing up, he looked at her as if asking, “You sure?”, she nodded to confirm, and he waltzed down to her and the man who had gotten all the more handsy.

“Hey man,” Dick placed his hand on the man’s shoulder, but he didn’t budge his hands finding all the wrong places. Dick continued getting progressively irate and he continued to touch her. “So this is my club you know?” The man nodded giving him only a small amount of attention.

“I’ll leave you boys to chat,” she said, attempting to get up from the man, his hand around her waist stopped her.

“Stay dear,” he wasn’t asking he was commanding her. She hated how men thought they could do anything they wanted with her just because she did this line of work. She felt bile rise in the back of her throat, from disgust or nervousness she wasn’t sure which.

“I really should go sir,” she apologized to the blonde man in front of her before prying the man’s arm from around her waist. Her heels clicked on the ground as she walked to the back rooms, she grabbed her robe a fluffy black thing that contrasted her redish-pink tresses. Star wandered into Dick’s office and sat in his comfy rolling chair, she assumed this is where he handled finances and his paperwork. She spun around in the chair the dark room swirling around her. 

Nightwing’s office was a little messy, papers strewn across his dark wood desk, and a cup of light creamy coffee sat on a coaster of a cat. The velvety black chair sunk underneath her weight it was padded and he had a colorful knitted blanket sitting over the back of the seat. He had a case of, seemingly locked, drawers on the other side of the room, dark and shiny to fit the rest of his space, honestly it just felt like him.

On the other side of the building, Nightwing was escorting Mark Desmond out of his club. “You’re lucky she’s a lot nicer than I am,” Dick said as he walked him around the building to the alley beside it. “Cause I won’t put up with that kind of shit in my club, those girls should feel safe in their place of work and pieces of trash like you come in and act like you own the place,” his leather clad fist collided with the man’s knocking him down. It felt wrong, but good at the same time because he was protecting someone he cared for. He kicked Mark in the ribs letting the air escape from his lungs as he writhed on the damp dirty ground.

Dick Grayson wasn’t a villain, a cruel man sometimes sure, but he wasn’t evil. So as soon as he began wriggling around to free himself from under Dick’s boot, he let him go, “Don’t show your face around here again,” He trailed off before remembering the last thing he meant to say. “And stay away from Starfire,” he didn’t want her to feel small or timid, but if men wanted to treat her, or very well any one of the other girls, like that they’d have to deal with him. 

Dick was walking around to the entrance of his nightclub when he realized he was leaving red bootprints in a trail from the alley. Had he kicked the man that hard? He brushed his shoes off at the door on his black mat, the night air was crisp and cold at he was met with the thick smell of cigarette smoke as he returned to the door. 

Starfire was sitting, still swiveling around in Nightwing’s chair when the door flung open and she jumped. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw it was Nightwing, she started to speak and he approached her, she stood up, “Hey Boss I wanted to thank you for taking care of that creep for me, he is usually a kind man I don’t know why he was acting a fool like that.” He stood beside her his body heat admitting a warm aura around the two. 

His muscular body felt large compared to her she wasn’t short or thin by any stretch, in fact, she was taller than him with the heels she had on and she was confident in her fat, curvaceous body. Still with his strong torso and arms her soft body felt small, squishy compared to his solid frame. It was almost attractive, but she pushed the thought away as soon as it came, that was her boss it was inappropriate for her to be thinking of him that way. 

“I doubt you’ll be seeing much of him anytime soon,” he mumbled and his warm breath hit her face it smelt of that familiar sugary peppermint gum he often chewed around the club. It was always either that or cigarettes, she found it comforting, familiar.

"Thanks, Boss…" she trailed off looking down at her hands that were covered by the comfy black robe. "But you know Nightwing strikes again! You're a really good friend," She giggles that sweet harmonic sound that's music to his ears. He felt his chest heat, which was unusual, the sounds from the club behind them were noisy but muffled through the walls. It was silent for a few seconds, the only noise in the room was their breathing.

Nightwing was the first to break the silence, "You okay though?" She thought about it momentarily, was she okay? She nodded slowly, hesitantly.

"Yeah I'm fine, don't worry it comes with the line of work! You know it shouldn't but it's okay really," She smiles at Nightwing,  

“Why do you dance?” He asked not wanting to pry but he was curious.

“It makes me happy, obviously I don’t enjoy the creeps but I get to do what I enjoy and make money off of it,” she smiled at Nightwing, “But I dance here rather than other places, it’s safer, you make it a comfortable area,” she rambled out before stopping herself she didn’t want to sound annoying, she worried she did sometimes.

“I try, I mean it’s the least I could do,” he runs a hand through his dark hair. He looked at his watch it was almost midnight. “You leave at twelve?” He asked it as if it were a question. Still, she felt a pang of happiness when he mentioned her schedule, he’d noticed. Most of the girls left at different times, there were a few that left before her and a few when they closed at 3 a.m. She didn’t know when anyone else left exactly. Still, he remembered hers.

He probably just knew all of the girls' schedules, he was their boss. The moon hung high in the sky outside, she peered through the blinds, light gleaming on Starfire’s bright green eyes.

“Yeah I usually do, it looks pretty clear out,” She turned back to Nightwing he was rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. He pauses when she looks back at him, he admires her eyes they always look as if they are shining, he wishes to be able to look into them shamelessly, but he can’t. She wasn’t his, those eyes weren’t his to stare at.

Dick perked up and began speaking so as to not appear as awkward. “I can walk you to your car if you’d like?” She agreed with him, trudging to the door before heading over to her bag where she left her extra change of clothes. 

“I’m gonna change first okay?” She shouted to him in the other room, she walked over to one of the changing stations and when she closed the door behind her and slid the lock into place she untied her robe and it pooled on the floor as she dropped it.

She stood in the green bodysuit and her heels, yawning and stretching before leaning down to unclasp the strap to her heels slipping them off, and grabbing a pair of slippers from her bag. She rolled her thigh-high socks off which were once covered mostly by her heels, and slid her feet into the soothing pair of UGGs feeling that familiar, uncomfortable strain that comes with taking off heels after a long while. She grasped her hands around the fabric on her torso and slid it off, she yawned once again still she hadn’t realized how much her exhaustion was catching up with her. The neon green fabric hit the floor in a silent skid, she redressed in a lavender baggy shirt with colorful, orange and yellow, bubble letters that say "Space Whore" She didn't know what it meant when she bought it and just thought it was cute. Four years ago when her college roommate, Rachel, told her what it meant she was mortified, now it just seemed fitting, she giggled at the thought of it. She slid some underwear on before pulling up a pair of black shorts that hugged her thick thighs, still above all she was comfortable. 

She continued to think back to college and remembered everything that had got her there, she didn’t remember much of her home planet, her brain blocked it out. Still, she was an alien kid forced into the American school system and barely made it out of high school. College was freedom for her, meeting Rachel and her boyfriend Garfield, and becoming their friends was her favorite memory. When she graduated with her degree a close second, she'd felt so proud, she had come so far since she'd come to earth. Graduating with her business degree meant she could have a well-paying job and she didn't have to worry about not being able to afford commodities and necessities. She was satisfied to make something of herself, and have the ability to live comfortably.

Quickly, she was snapped out of her thoughts by Dick in the room next to her, Starfire scooped her clothes and shoes off the floor before forcing it into her pink and orange drawstring bag. She glided the lock on the door open before it swings open and she waltzes out, "Alright let's blast," she shouts out to Dick, and he meets her at the threshold to his office. They walk out of the door that connects the outside to the back rooms. The wind was whipping out in the cool September night. Starfire's red scuffed-up old 2009 Nissan Rouge sat not far outside the door, he walked her over to it before opening her diver's side door and she sat in her comfortably familiar seat.

"Make it home safe alright Star?" She nodded, putting her keys in the ignition and throwing her bag in the passenger seat. The seemingly ancient, horribly beat-up leather of her seat squealed as it lurched. 

"Alright, Boss, hope the rest of tonight is uneventful!" she chuckles, Star understood a quiet night was a good night here, she put her fist out for him to bump and she made a small explosion noise. They laughed, and she waved him off as he walked back to the building, undulating with each step. 

She backed out of the parking lot and felt a searing pain in her chest, ‘what was that?’ She thought, maybe she was just having heartburn but the way the black-haired man was on her mind told her otherwise. She brushed it off.

#dickkory #starfire x robin #starfire x nightwing #nightwing x starfire #starfire #koriand'r #dick grayson #robin #nightwing #dcu #dc comics #fanfic #batfam #bat family

[lilyrizzy]

slightly delayed day 4 of the 12 days of maxiel advent calendar! for @catofthecanals289 from our alzheimers universe! set in the same universe as this and this.

“Daniel, you have to, of course, aim higher.”

It’s as though the words snap everything back into focus while Daniel tries to remember anything getting blurred in the first place. 

In front of him, rows of red-nosed clowns topped with frizzy orange hair stare down at him. Them, he’s not alone. There’s something heavy in his hand. A baseball, he realises. He looks between it and the lines and lines of manic grins, and then Max’s face. His voice is full of laughter, so Daniel must be okay.

“What-“ Daniel begins, but it’s too embarrassing to ask what am I meant to be doing. Max just told him.

Max steps closer to him, his smile already flickering at Daniel’s obvious hesitation.

“Daniel?” He asks, cautious in a way Daniel doesn’t like. He doesn’t want Max to stop smiling.

The flashing lights of the arcade dance at the periphery of his vision, red, yellow, blue and then red again, as a mechanical imitation of circus music plays in a loop. A cheery voice reminds him over and over to down the clown.

“Sweetheart.” The word sounds like a question again, but at the same time unfamiliar. Wrong. “Schatje,” Max says then, and that’s- That’s better.

I love you, Daniel thinks, an electric shock of realisation that is as manic as their surroundings, like maybe it’s being felt for the first time. Then, the settle of it into the familiar warm weight in his chest tells him the truth; I’ve been loving you for a long time.

Wherever they are, he’s safe here.

Daniel turns back to the clowns, noticing now how they aren’t real and are just faces painted onto bowling pins. He does what Max told him to, and throws the ball higher.

To the applause of strobe lights and chiptune, he wins.

Throwing his hands into the air, he lets out a noise of delight in time with Max’s behind him. Ki ki ki, aye, a corner of his brain echoes, but he can’t make the words trip onto his tongue.

“Good job,” Max tells him, his hands a warm weight on Daniel’s waist. A champagne fizz fills Daniel’s belly like it’s maybe been a long time since he’s been touched there, but- No. That can’t be right, because Max loves him too.

I love you, also, he always says. Daniel wishes he would say it now. He can see that it’s true in the softness of Max’s eyes as he pulls him in to kiss him congratulations. Daniel wishes--

--

--Daniel’s hands are twisted into soft purple fur. At first he thinks it’s a jumper, but then his fingertips catch on the crinkled material of the horn, and it’s obvious what it is. A unicorn. For his sister’s baby, maybe.

As he searches the murky waters of his head for her name, his eyes catch on the landscape flying past him. Too vast and green to be Monaco, the car moving too fast. Monaco is the orange glow of car break lights, sitting bumper to bumper and swearing under his breath. He’s not the one driving now, but he doesn’t know who is either.

“Daniel?” The man says his name when Daniel glances at him, so it can’t be a stranger.

“Where are we going?” Daniel asks, cuddling the unicorn a little closer. It feels nice under his palms.

“Back to the ranch,” the man says. His eyes are very blue and pretty, but thinking that makes Daniel’s stomach twist. He shouldn’t- He has somebody who wouldn’t like him thinking that about somebody else, he’s sure.

Daniel nods. They’re on the left side of the road, so-

“I need to get ready for the race,” he says, with more confidence than he feels, but that must be why they are in Australia. The Grand Prix. Except, the weather outside the window doesn’t look quite like autumn. Looking down at himself, he realises he’s not wearing anything with the Red Bull logo, which means he’s probably late. “Christian is going to kill me if I miss practice.”

The man’s face does something complicated that Daniel doesn’t understand. Daniel is about to ask for his phone to call someone- Laura, he thinks his assistants name is maybe- when the man speaks again, his voice softer than before.

“The race has already happened, don’t worry,” he promises, but his voice is shaky. “I’m taking you home to get some rest.”

“Very good,” he says again, which is a little unhelpful, but then he adds sounding a little more genuine, “Everyone is very proud of you.”

“Oh,” Daniel says, feeling a little stupid, but also relieved. No one can be angry at him if it’s his time off. Unless he fucked up on track. Clearing his throat, he asks, “Did you watch it? How did I do?”

He watches the man’s hands tighten on the steering wheel for a moment, his eyes fixed firmly on the road.

Happy butterflies beat their wings inside Daniel, flying between his stomach and his chest. He made people proud.

“Gangster,” Daniel says with a grin, and because he can’t resist being cheeky, “did I beat Max?”

But saying his name out loud as the butterflies wilt to lead weights at the bottom of his belly. Daniel is pretty sure Max should be here, so where is he? The guy spoke about the ranch, and the ranch means family time, which means Max time. Max is- Max is-

Daniel turns to look at the back seat, but it’s empty. He tries to remember when he last saw Max, but where his face used to be there is only a fuzzy outline framed with a Red Bull cap. He touches a hand to his head and finds only his own curls under his fingertips.

“Where’s my boyfriend?” He asks the man again, his voice high now with panic. “My boyfriend, Max, where is-“ Then he breaks off to swear, because no one is supposed to know. Max might be angry that he told this man.

“Easy easy,” the man soothes, his nice blue eyes back on Daniel as his hand makes an awkward jerk forwards, and then backwards again, as though he was going to try to touch him. “Easy, Daniel, it’s okay, I promise. Max will-“ He breaks off to smooth his face into a gentle smile. He really is so pretty. “Max will be at the ranch. I’m taking you to him now.”

Daniel studies the man’s face for a moment. He seems nice, and Max loves Daniel, and Christian is proud of him today, so they wouldn’t let him get into a car with someone they didn’t trust to look after him. Besides, something in this man’s face has Daniel trusting him.  His mouth is kind. There’s a mark just above his top lip.

“Have we met before?” Daniel asks, surprising himself with the question. When the man’s smile turns sad again, Daniel tries to laugh apologetically. “Sorry if that’s a dick question mate, when you’re famous it’s- It’s easy to lose track.”

Strangely that gets the man to laugh. Daniel can’t help but join in as the sound tugs at the loose threads of his mind. Sunshine streaming through tall windows, the glitter of the sea just beyond them. Chasing a spotty cat down a hallway.

“That’s okay,” the man says, “I have driven you lots of places before, do not worry.”

His words are the final piece Daniel needs for his hammering heart to slow. Pitifully, he finds himself lifting the plushie to his face to press his cheek against its softness. It’s even nicer than when it was against his hands. He’s going to-

“I’m going to give this to Max,” he says, words muffled a little. “He- I- I think he’ll pretend it’s silly, but secretly love it. He’s a little shit like that.”

Max will like it, Daniel is sure. Max will like that Daniel was thinking about him.

#alzheimers au #i thought this sucked but on reread I actually quite like it #fic #max/daniel

[livingbrother]

LO and it's portrayal of S/A

A rant by someone who just finished EP. 98 and is incredibly furious

Cw: Mentions of S/A, it's effects, too much swearing, ED mention, personal stuff that happened to yours truly, lots of other stuff too, just no idea what to tag it as

Don't read this if you're not mentally doing well, I don't want you getting hurt because of my post, I love you, feel better soon

Boy. Oh fucking boy. I just got through episode 98 of this shit show and, I'll just say, I am beyond furious. Livid, in fact.

For context, I am a survivor or sexual abuse and mental abuse, I have dealt with those who act sort of like Apollo, I was never raped, but I was molested as a child. I, as a survivor, feel nothing but rage at how Rachel portrayed Apollo being a rapist. The way he acts is incredibly unrealistic for an abuser, as somebody who dealt with two abusers with Narcissistic Personality Disorder (I'm not saying everyone who has NPD are villains, I'm just saying what I went through), I see what Rachel was trying, but oh so tragically failed, to do. He tried to control, manipulate, and gaslight Persephone. Only for none of it to work, that's not how ANY of it fucking works!

Where is the fucking control, other than just fucking raping her? I get he wants to take the power away from her and be the one to control her, but I've seen none of that! I get she has PTSD over it (I'LL GET TO THIS POINT AGAIN). I NEVER GOT THE SENSE THAT SHE WAS POWERLESS EXCEPT FOR THAT ONE SCENE. I HAVE NEVER SEEN HER QUESTION IF THAT WAS HIS INFLUENCE PICKING HER DRESSES, OR FUCKING EVEN HER FOOD! WHEN I WAS LIVING WITH ONE OF MY ABUSERS, SHE'D PICK OUT MY OUTFITS, ONE'S I HATED, AND I STILL CHOOSE SOME OF THOSE OUTFITS, TO THIS DAY! WHERE WAS HER LOSS OF CONTROL? SHE NEVER FELT ISOLATED, SHE NEVER FELT LIKE SHE WAS TRAPPED. YES. SHE WAS TRAPPED IN THAT ONE ROOM WITH HIM, BUT EVEN THEN! SHE HAD LEVERAGE OVER HIM WITH THE FUCKING LYRE. Ugh.

About her realizing she was raped, um. Excuse me? A lot of victims don't realize they were raped or abused until like, months or years later. I'm glad for the ones who instantly realized it, good for them. Given Persephone's personality and experience with the world, she wouldn't have known it was rape because she's not accustomed to dating and sexual culture. On top of that, she isn't really seen actually distressed when she remembers, oh, and lets not forget that she WAS FUCKING FINE WITH TOUCH AND PHYSICAL FLIRTING DAYS AFTER HER ASSAULT. Let me remind you that I have been through this thing myself, you do not just omg I was just assaulted! time to go let someone touch me! Nonono, you spend years jumping when people touch you, years of moving when someone tries to grab your shoulder, years of pushing someone's hand off your arm, years screaming when you get a hug. And then, maybe from flashbacks, maybe from googling things, you discover you were molested! And then it alllllll makes sense. I understand if she became hypersexual, cause same, but that usually doesn't set in until a good long while.

I also hate how Apollo is written, he should have stayed as a shitty ex boyfriend or whatever the fuck Rachel was gonna make him, he just comes across as a cartoonish villain than an abuser. The man just fucking rubs his hands together and fucking goes I'll get you next time my pretty! I fucking HATE his writing so goddamn much. I understand wanting to make him pushy, egotistical, and insecure, they're some of the hallmarks of the pushy nice guy she was going for. But when it comes to him being abusive, it's like watching a bad joke. Rapists don't usually, you know, CATCH FEELINGS FOR THEIR VICTIM (correct me if I'm wrong), unless it's to lure them back in to hurt them again. She made him so obviously evil it hurts, abusers don't usually act that way, they put on a pretty smile, act kind, and behind closed doors, act shitty. I respect 97-98 for getting that part right, but too many times, too many fucking times Rachel has gotten that wrong. I have dealt with this myself, my mother did this exact thing, she even put on the pretty smile for me so even I, somebody who knew he was being tormented, questioned whether or not I was being abused! We never see this with Persephone! We never see her getting gaslit with this, she never questions her reality! She knows everything that's going on for sure! I know what Rachel was aiming for, and she failed miserably!

God, on top of this, we never really get to see Persephone's PTSD unless the story fuckin says Apollo's here! She's never really fucking affected by her rape, we don't see her jump from touches, refuse sexual advanced from Hades, yeah, sure, we see her afraid of camera flashes, but that's about it!!!!!!!! She never really experiences the effects of s/a! I developed an ED and agoraphobia from my abuse! Where the fuck is that?! That would have been a lot more fucking interesting than the slop we fucking got!

I know I've missed some things, but I need to calm down before I pop a blood vessel. I might revisit this post when I'm less angry, I just needed to rant.

#lo critical #anti lore olympus #anti lo #rant post #rant #cw s/a #cw: ed #huge ass content warning