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moonstone01 · 2 years

Text

Brat

Stranger Things

Eddie Munson x Female Reader

Word Count: 6.2K

Warnings: SMUUUT, LOTS of Dirty Talk, Spanking, Oral (F receiving), Fingering, Unprotected Vaginal Sex, Arguing/ Angst, Crying/ Hints of Dacryphilia.

A/N: I love this one. The thought of being put in your place by Eddie fucking Munson? Yes please. I didn’t do very much proof reading because I was eager to post after a writer’s block, so that is why I’m posting this at 2:22 AM.

You and Eddie don’t normally argue, but recently the arguing is nonstop. It all started when he was pissy one day after being frustrated with Lucas not showing up to hellfire.

“Eddie, can you-”

“No, y/n I’m busy,” He snarled at you, which was unlike him. You knew that he was stressed out from the lack of a member, but you didn’t really like the way he was being snappy with you that day.

“You know, it’s not my fault Lucas bailed on you, you don’t have to be such a dick.” You raised your voice a little bit at the rude way he dismissed you. You were only gonna ask him to help you zip up your skirt. You walked into his bedroom from the bathroom, where he was sitting writing out posters for the club. Walking over to him, you spun around and continued to ask your question. “Can you zip me up?” You questioned with raised brows.

You heard him let out a loud sigh and throw his writing utensil down. He grabbed your zipper and yanked it up. The sound of the zipper forcefully going up was heard, and then accompanied by a yelp.

“Ow! Eddie!” Whipping around, you furrow your eyebrows at him. He had yanked the zipper without care and it ended up pinching you, the skin feeling red hot with the sting of blood. Finally his attention was brought to you, in some shock at the fact that he hurt you. Eddie was about to mumble an apology, but you were tired of his attitude.

“What the fuck is your problem?! You’re so inconsiderate to the point you just pinched the shit out of me! You could’ve broken my zipper!” You yelled this time, you were overreacting a little bit, but seeing him in such a dismissive mood was very unlike him. At your yelling, his eyebrows furrow, angry now.

“You know, I didn’t know it was gonna fucking pinch you, but I’m trying to get this done, so can you please stop your bitching and whining and go!” He yelled, making it clear he was getting fed up. A breathy and short laugh escaped your mouth, in disbelief.

“Bitching and whining? Fuck you, all I needed was some help with this god damn zipper, but you’re so busy with your stupid childish game.” You mock, and you know you’ve struck a nerve when he stands up, completely forgetting about the campaign. The look on his face was angry, brows furrowed and a small pout on his lips, and you started to walk away from him rolling your eyes.

“Fuck me? No fuck YOU, y/n. I’ve been trying to get this finished for months now, and Lucas bailing just made it ten times harder because now I have to scramble to find a replacement.” He followed you into the kitchen of his trailer that you now basically live in. You have been dating for five months. The arguing had come and gone like this easily recently, so you thought it was just another argument like the rest this past month and you’d both apologize for the reactions. This one however turned into something heated, causing you both to say things you didn’t really mean to each other.

“I hate you! I just wish you would leave!” You yelled at him on the verge of tears in the middle of your debate as he complained about your bitching and whining. You didn’t really mean it, and you regretted saying it the moment it came out, but you were so tired of hearing all of the things that were wrong with you. The problem was, the both of you hadn’t even said that you loved each other yet, so this hit Eddie hard. The words caused a still between you two.

Hate. You hated him. It hung in the air silently, the both of you looking away from each other. You had your hands on your hips, looking up at the ceiling, trying to hold back your tears but to no avail as one spilled out. You wanted to say something. Something to retrieve what you had just said because you knew it hurt him, but you couldn’t get it out without sobbing. You truly loved and cared for Eddie, and you knew the sweet and loving person he is did not take well to it. So, you stood in silence as your lip quivered. Until Eddie’s heavy footsteps were heard walking towards his bedroom, slamming the door shut with a bang.

Finally, you let out your tears, sobbing harder when you heard another loud bang come from his room as he threw something against the wall. You sniffled, trying to calm yourself. It was almost unbearable, because the fact was that you actually loved each other, but you both didn’t want to say it the way it felt so soon. You found yourself sobbing even more at the fact that the argument is over, and there was no redeeming yourself at that moment. You then decided that you needed to leave, to go for a walk or something. You needed to walk it off. And so you did, you grabbed a coat, and made your way out the door, shutting it lightly so as to not alert Eddie that you had gone.

You were out walking for about an hour, not wanting to go back to face him because you didn’t know if you’d be able to get the right words out and apologize. A part of you was still angry at him though, a part of you not wanting to apologize to him because he had said some hurtful things to you ‘Ditz. Stuck Up. Pain In the Ass. A Bother.’ It all stuck with you, but you had said equally painful things to him. So when you finally decided to return after crying for a while, you entered the trailer once again. It was quiet upon your arrival back into the trailer, but only one thing had changed. Peering around the door, his bedroom door had opened, but it was only opened a crack.

You crept in slowly, and shut the door as quietly as possible. For a while, you stood at the end of the short hallway, debating going in there. It was awfully quiet, and it was tortuous. You had finally decided to creep your way to the door, trying not to make noise as you approached. Opening the door, your eyes find Eddie in bed, facing the wall on the right side of his bed. Then your eyes find the source of the loud bang that you heard. Eddie had thrown the large boombox off his dresser and into the wall. It was destroyed.

You decided it was best to lay next to him and not say a word, realizing you didn’t want to pry anymore. Because you obviously had been prying too much that day. As you sat on the bed, he flinched at your presence. Then you heard a sniffle. He was crying. He shifted his body weight more into the right side of the bed, not wanting to interact with you at that moment and also not wanting you to see his emotional state. You hadn’t even laid down yet, and he was already making it known that he did not want you there. Your legs swung up as more tears threatened to spill at the situation, and you hesitated your next actions. You turned to him, wrapping your arm around him and rubbing his arm soothingly. Instead, you decided to try and get what you needed to say out.

“Eddie…” He stiffened at your words, not wanting more tears to spill. “I didn’t-”

“‘S fine,” he sniffled, cutting you off from talking about it more. He then sat up, trying to hide his face as best as he could, and grabbed a blanket from his closet. You saw it though, and it was not fine. Tears had dried up on his face, and his eyes were puffy and red from crying. It broke your heart. With his blanket in hand, he began to exit the room, avoiding all eye contact with you. “Night,” he mumbled on his way to the couch. You fell asleep crying quietly to yourself.

That morning, you walked out of his room and saw him huddled up on the couch, lightly snoring. He was cold, the blanket not providing that much warmth. You walked into the kitchen, preparing to make the both of you breakfast. When it was ready, you went over to wake him with a light shake. You smiled sincerely down at him when his eyes rolled out of the sleep he was in, not looking very refreshed. He gave a small smile back, but not his usual genuine ones. You moved out his way to let him stretch, to which he raised his arms over his head. He noticed the breakfast on the counter as you walked over to get it for him.

“I made you breakfast.” Mustering up the most enthusiasm you could. He smiled down at the breakfast you gave him, he knew you felt bad for what you said.

“Thanks,” he said, barely making eye contact. The rest of the day was spent barely talking to each other, and Eddie getting angrier throughout the day. However, this anger had stemmed from something long past the hellfire club situation. It stemmed from the memories of last night. How you snapped at him, called him names, and most of all the fact that you hated him and wished for him to just leave. He knew it wasn’t really true, but the fact that you were more comfortable and confident saying you hated him over I love you deeply saddened him.

He started to ignore your comments, questions, and concerns. Every single one, until after two days of this silent treatment, you snapped.

“Eddie!” You yelled, fed up with the fact your boyfriend was completely ignoring you. Immediately, his demeanor changed from a calm, nonchalant one, to an angry one just like that night.

“What?!” He yelled back, gripping the steering wheel harder on your way back to his trailer from school. He made eye contact with you for the first time in hours. You had yet to even apologize for what you said, but that stubbornness still resided in you after the things he had said to you as well. After a moment of eye contact, you squint your eyes and scoff at his behavior.

“I’m so tired of this silent treatment.” You tell him, your voice laced with venom.

“Well, you should have thought about that before you started this.” Snarling back at you and looking back at the road. Another argument ensued, obviously. You entered the trailer still arguing, but his uncle was sat in front of the television, looking at the both of you arguing. Mumbling an apology to his uncle, you headed for the shower. Eddie heading for his room. The both of you didn’t talk to each other much that rest of the week, unless it was to argue. One of you would say something, and the other would scoff and say something snarky. ‘Oh so now you wanna talk to me? What do you want? I don’t care.’ So on and so forth.

Back to the present, it is now Saturday, and the silent treatment has become a game. It was as if you were waiting for the other to speak up to quickly call them out for even speaking. It was becoming unbearable for you. For him too. You were ready to apologize, in fact, you have been ready to apologize. However, Eddie has been making it almost impossible by now. The way he blew you off made you want to defend your case, and you were getting tired of it. He could, however, tell something about you.

You were becoming increasingly desperate to be touched. If you were being honest, you wished he would fuck your attitude out of you and make you apologize right then and there. The way you would start to unfurrow your eyebrows and look down at his lips when he was yelling. Watch him do simple tasks that you wouldn’t even notice to froth at the mouth over. Squeeze your legs together when he would come out of the shower dripping wet, the only thing on being a towel hanging at his v-line. It was undeniable, and Eddie knew, and he was beginning to catch on these past couple of days. It was like you were starting these arguments on purpose, desperate for him to at least speak to you in some way and for his eyes to be on you. So when you find yourself staring at him practicing for his upcoming concert for corroded coffin, you can’t help but speak up.

“Eddie,” clearing your throat after you let his name out. He’s noticed the way you’ve been staring in his peripheral, so he stops playing, and looks up at you. Not with anger, but with curiosity written on his face. Your legs hang over the edge of the bed as you rest an arm underneath your head to look at him.

“W-what are you playing?” you try to make conversation, desperately wanting to talk with him. He shrugs at your question.

“D’know…what’d you care?” Scoffing, he looks back down at his hands as he continues to play the guitar. You know you shouldn’t, but you want him to pay attention to you so badly, so you pry.

“God you are such a fucking dick,” you let out a laugh, and looking at him in disbelief. He stops playing again and looks up, eyebrows slightly furrowed, you smirked slightly at getting the attention you wanted. His eyes stare at you, looking you over, plotting his next words carefully.

“Am I?” he questions, raising an eyebrow and taking his guitar from off of his shoulder. You can tell his demeanor has changed, almost playful, but still a little bit annoyed.

“Yeah. For the past few days actually you’ve done nothing BUT be a dick.” You slightly raise your voice and sit up on the bed, watching as he turns around towards you after putting his guitar up. He moves slightly over to you, combativeness in his eyes.

“You haven’t been the best either.” He rolls his eyes. “In fact, you’ve been a bitch all week, y/n.” He raises his voice slightly, the feeling of another argument coming on. You don’t take this one very lightly.

“Of course! I’m a bitch, huh?! You are so fu-” He comes towards you and grabs your jaw forcefully and cuts you off from your yelling and cursing.

“I.” He yanks you up from the bed, replacing himself in your spot as he yanks your shorts down, eliciting a gasp from you as you weren’t wearing any panties.

“Am so.” He seethes, forcing your oversized shirt over your head. His hand grabs your arm and bends you over his lap. Eddie's lips coming down to your ear as he speaks.

“Tired of this fucking attitude.” He tells you through gritted teeth. Completely naked on top of his lap in an instant, he grabs your throat with his left hand, forcing you to look up at him while his right hand massages your ass.

“Is this what you want? Hmmm?” The tone of his voice changing to a more teasing one. A heavy smack of his hand coming down on your ass suddenly, you whimper out desperately, the sudden change in mood already has you soaking your thighs. This is exactly what you want.

“You need to be touched? Getting bitchy ‘cause you haven’t been getting my attention?” Another smack coming down, a little harder this time, causing you to let out a light moan.

“Fucking spit it out, brat.” He hisses, wanting you to tell him exactly what he’s been wanting to hear.

“Yes, I need you to touch me,” you mumble out, straining a moan as his hold on your throat is causing the blood to rush to your head. Another smack coming down on your ass, lurching you forward. This time, he doesn’t give you very much time before he lands another one on the sensitive skin.

“That’s what I thought, you fucking brat.” He winds his hand back, landing a devastatingly hard one on your ass once again. You cry out, the pain stinging beautifully because while it hurts, you love it. The way he’s finally giving you the attention you haven’t had in a little over a week.

“Eddie,” Calling out, tears beginning to prick in your eyes.

“Don’t cry now, sit here and take it.” He hits the left cheek now. “This is what you wanted, hmm?” The hand coming down and smacking the right one once again as he slightly raises his voice. You lurch forward, but are stopped by his hand on your throat. You nod frantically as a tear slides down your cheek. This isn’t the first time you’ve been spanked, Eddie actually gets rough like this sometimes, but only when he’s pissed. You obviously don’t mind being spanked, especially when you deserve it. Two hard smacks come down on both cheeks.

“Aww, is my baby crying? You want me to stop?” He asks in your ear when you sobbed out, massaging the burning skin. You shake your head no immediately, you want to take it for him. You can feel his dick hard poking at your side. He’s comando under those loose sweatpants, which you also had shamelessly looked at today.

“That’s what I thought,” His spanking and smacking continues until you let out a particular sob. So loud that the neighbors probably could've heard it if they were outside at this hour. He brings you up to straddle his legs. He looks over your face, smiling at the tears that he has made fall. His lips come up to press a gentle kiss to your lips. When he pulls away you sniffle as another tear falls.

“So pretty when you take it so well. Too bad you’ve been such a brat” The palms of his hands soothing over your waist, you flutter around thin air at his words. He picks you up, clinging to him as he gently moves with you. Your back comes into contact with the bed, wincing at the sting on your ass as it comes into contact with the material of his bed. His lips immediately come into contact with yours once he has laid you down. Your lips move slowly together, but soon his lips engulf yours. Open mouthing you, his tongue is in your mouth, taking his time. The both of you relishing the kiss, sighing occasionally from the lost time you could’ve spent enjoying each other rather than spending it arguing.

The pace of the kiss is unchanging, until his hands splay over your thighs, giving them a firm squeeze. When you moan into his mouth at the contact, his lips quicken onto yours, coming back to the reality of the situation. You were still in for it. His hands grip your thighs tighter, in a bruising hold. His lips make their way down to your jaw, sucking and biting at the skin. You go to run your fingers through his hair, but your hand is quickly shot away. The pursuit of his lips goes down to your breasts, where he pays special attention to.

Licking. Biting. Kissing at your nipples, playing with them with his hands when his lips were not occupied with the other. You arch your back into his body, needing friction on your clit. He finally starts to make his way down your belly, pecking your two hip bones. You watch in a desperate haze as he ignores where you need him, and glides his tongue around your thighs. He watches you as you squirm. He slides down to the ground, and pulls your lower body half way of the bed. You wince in slight pain as your sore ass slides across the mattress and your legs wrap around his head.

“Look at you,” He smiles smally up at you. “I knew you were needy but I didn’t know you were this needy sweetheart.” His mouth hovering over your clit so closely you can feel his breath hit the nerve as he speaks. Your cunt flutters at his nickname for you, you haven't heard it in so long. The teasing is beginning to be unbearable, and you moan at the fact that he hasn’t even touched you yet but he’s so close. He laughs at your neediness, and suddenly licks through your folds. He comes up immediately after. You groan out at the loss.

“Jesus, so wet and all I’ve done was spank you, you really are a slut for me hm?” He muses, and puts his tongue right back where you need it. His tongue works through your folds slowly, collecting your wetness. He hums at the taste of you, and begins gliding his tongue faster. You squirm because you know he is purposefully ignoring your clit. Finally, his tongue flicks over your clit, causing your breath to hitch in your throat. His tongue flicks faster, causing you to reach down for him. Your reach, however, is stopped when he grabs both hands and pins them to your thighs. Your hips buck up when his speed reaches a maximum, you whine out at the feeling.

His lips then wrap around your clit, sucking harshly. You moan, your arms being forced down as you write underneath him. He’s sucking and swirling his tongue around the nerve. He knows you're close by the way you’re bucking your hips as best as you can up into his mouth. Switching his technique between flicking and sucking, you feel the pressure building.

“Eddieee,” you draw out his name as the pressure is about to explode. He hums against you, and releases one of his hands from his grip on your left arm, moving it down to your entrance. His middle finger begins to tease at your entrance, and then sinks it in. You finally grab a fist full of hair as he curls his finger up into you and sucks your clit simultaneously. A long and strung out moan escapes your lips as his speed into your cunt quickened and you feel your body jolt and twist in pleasure as your orgasm approaches.

“Yeeess,” you cry out as you orgasm all over him. The sound of his sucking and the wet noises his fingers made into your cunt also filling the room. It was filthy, the sight before you, and you’re busy catching your breath after your release. He hums against you once again as he licks you up for good measure, making lustful eye contact with you while doing so.

He makes his way up towards you again, kissing and licking his way up as he did when he was making his way down. His lips make their way over your rising and falling chest. They stop at your neck, leaving marks on the skin. You squirm underneath his sucking and nibbling, growling when you whine at the sensation. Suddenly, he lifts his lips off of you and flips you around onto your stomach. Your legs come up so you’re on your knees for him, he laughs at the small action. An unbeknownst smack comes down on your left cheek, arching your back.

You hear him shuffle behind you, taking his sweatpants off. Now, you both are completely naked. There was no warning before his dick slipped through your folds, your hips grinding on him in desperation. He lets out a disapproving ‘tut’ at your hips trying to insert him into you.

“Remind me, what’do you want sweetheart?” He leans down over your back, wanting to hear you spit out filth to him. When you don’t answer him, a smack comes down onto your ass again, hard.

“You, Eddie please!” You whine out, panting from the heat of the moment. “I need you to fuck me Eddi-” His dick slams inside you, having easy acess from the way you were arching your ass up for him. You moan loudly as you stretch around him with some difficulty. It had been a while, so he stays still inside you, completely bottomed out inside you. Once you move your hips back and forth on him, he grabs them in a tight grip and begins to pound into you from behind. He pushes your head into the mattress at the roughness of his thrusting. An animalistic sound comes from your mouth at the feeling of his slow, but rough pace.

“Mhm,” he growls loudly, “You like that? You like when I get rough with you? Fuck this attitude right outta you?” His voice is taunting. The palms of his hands slide to your ass and grip the sensitive skin, successfully spreading them apart.

“Yeah.” You draw out, barely able to form words. The pace quickens slightly, you can hear his grunting from time to time as he slides into you. Your cunt squelching around him. The noises you were making. The way your’re ass up for him. His patience that has been run thin all fueling the moment. A hard smack comes down on your ass, again. Your cunt is so full of him and it consumes you. Everything comes flooding out.

“Eddie…fuck baby I’m sorryyy,” you whine, reaching your hand back to find his. The reaction you get is him grabbing both hands and pulling your face up off the mattress. He pins both of your hands behind your back with his right hand and grabs around your throat again to pull you flush against him. His thrusts get rougher into you, and you feel him hit a devastating spot inside you. You try to escape the grasp he has on your hands to touch him, but he keeps your hands firmly in place as he rams into your cervix.

“What was that? I can’t hear you,” he pants in your ear, knowing the position making it harder for you to function.

“FUCK…Eddiie I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you basically sob out in a frenzy. “Sorry, baby, sorry.” Repeating your babbling, unable to care if anyone heard your desperate apology. He moans against your ear at the apology, slowing his thrusts down and flipping you around onto your back in a quick move. His hands push the backs of your thighs up so your knees are touching your breasts. A whimper escapes your lips at the new position as you’re able to see him now. His eyes are hooded, hair wild and frizzy. He leans down to kiss your lips, slow fucking into you to catch his breath. This position is perfect like the position he had you in seconds ago, perfect access to your cervix.

“What’re you sorry for sweetheart?” He asks after catching his breath, wanting to hear the whole apology now that you’ve established where you both stand.

“‘M sorry Eddie,” you pause, throwing your head to the side as his pace begins to speed up a little bit. “I didn’t mean it baby, ’m sorry for being a brat.” You mumble out and move a hand through his hair, trying your best to look up at him through your pleasure. He smiles and looks up and down over your body.

“Good girl.” He says before resuming his rough and fast pace. Your cunt contracts at his words of praise and the way he’s pressing the right spot. You moan loudly and nod your head frantically because your second orgasm is approaching.

“Yes, Eddie…” You throw your head back and raise a hand to his cheek. Both of his hands are still residing on the backs of your thighs. “Fuck, I love you…I love you so much.” You tell him while looking right up at him, dead serious. His brows furrow in pleasure and his mouth hangs open at your words. The way his hips start to drill into you makes it impossible for you to hold on much longer. You know your words had affected him deeply, so you aren’t surprised he says what came next.

“Fuck, y/n say that again sweetheart.” He moans, wanting you to tell him you love him again.

“I love you, Eddie, an ‘m sorry for what I said.” You cry out, tears running down your face in both pleasure and happiness. He squeezes your thighs reassuringly and starts to falter in his thrusts, but making sure he keeps up for you.

“I love you too baby, it’s okay I got you.” He coos down at you, knowing you were close and wanted to make up with him. A particular thrust into you had you throwing your head back and clawing at his shoulders in ecstasy as your second orgasm raked through your body. Eddie held your shaking thighs and felt the flood beneath him, his dick slipping out of you for a moment. His mouth hung open at the sight of you shaking and convulsing underneath him. He taps his dick on your clit for good measure before sliding back into you, still on his verge of cumming.

It only takes him a few thrusts before his pace starts to falter, your throbbing cunt around him not making it easy for him to continue for much longer. He moans as his high approaches, letting go of one of your thighs to grab your breast.

“Fuck, y/n,” He moans loudly and cums inside you, the heat of the liquid felt throughout your cunt. Fucking it up into you more as he bucks inside you while riding out his high. He pulls out and pants to catch his breath. You moan at the loss. The two of his fingers came to push his seed back inside before it could slip out as you wiped some of the tears that had spilled during your intercourse. His fingers came up to your mouth, and he watched as you licked them clean.

“Good girl.” He smiles at you, then moves to go to his bathroom. He opens his door but quickly stops when the door only makes it three fourths of the way open.

“Oh shit.” He quickly slams his door shut again. His body turning towards you and diving to the floor for his sweatpants.

“What?” You ask worried.

“My uncle is sitting in the living room watching television.” He whisper shouts, worried he might’ve seen him standing there, dick and balls fully out. You begin to hysterically laugh, unable to control the hilarity of the situation. He gets his sweatpants on, slightly cracking a smile as you lay there, naked and laughing. His uncle could’ve just gotten here and heard some of it, or he could’ve heard all of it.

“You think he heard us?” You try to calm your laughing.

“No shit, he heard us, I thought he was working tonight.” He begins to laugh with you.

“I need a towel babe,” you whine, your thighs soaked and your cunt dripping again with his cum mixed with your wetness. Eddie looks down at your cunt, and is transfixed.

“Eddie.” You whine again, and close your legs, looking at him seriously.

“Alright baby I’m getting it.” Flashing you a smile and kissing your lips quickly. You watch as he opens the door slower this time, and you can tell he immediately makes eye contact with his uncle at the end of the hallway by the way his face lights up with a light blush.

“Hey, uh, did you uh, hear any of that?” He nervously asks his uncle.

“Yes, yes I did Eddie, all of it.” You can hear his uncle say faintly. Eddie laughs weakly and goes for the bathroom. You giggle at the newly found information. He comes back quickly and shuts his door even quicker behind him. You can tell he’s quit embarrassed, being that his uncle has just been subjected to his sex life. He comes over to you nonetheless, and wipes up the mess for you. Your hands run over his arms, being touchy as always after sex, the both of you always were. The towel is thrown elsewhere in his room, and he picks you up, flipping himself onto the bed while holding your naked body. You shift your body onto his right side, and sling your leg over him with a hand playing with his long strands of hair. His right hand lays on your back, running his hand over it soothingly.

“I’m sorry for what I said.” You mumble, starting to feel yourself getting upset again. The memory of a week ago creeping up into your mind. “That was so stupid I shouldn’t have said that. I never meant to hurt you.” Tears begin to prick at your eyes.

“Baby, it’s okay.” Eddie’s left hand coming over to slide a thumb along your cheek.

“It’s not, because I love you, I don’t hate you.” A light sniffle comes from you, and the tears start to flow. “I don’t want you to leave, Eddie.” You sob underneath him. You feel him sit up slightly, trying to look at you better.

“Y/n, look at me.” He says sitting up a little more so he could see your face. You move up to sit up next to him, looking down slightly from your sudden outburst of emotion. While you had been arguing, the anxiety of those words you had said haunted you. The possibility of you and Eddie coming to an end had been eating away at you for this past week. You didn’t want to lose him. His thumb comes across your fallen tears, and he laughs a little at your emotions.

“Sweetheart, I love you too, and I am not going anywhere.” He leans in to kiss you, letting his lips linger on yours. “If I was going to leave I would’ve, I want you and your bratty attitude. I’d never leave you over this stupid shit.” His lips come towards yours again to land another reassuring kiss on your lips. You laugh, sniffling again.

“You sure?” You laugh lightly again.

“Positively sure, y/n.” He raises his eyebrows at you with a smile. You lean your head on his shoulder and he grabs your left hand and rubs his thumb soothingly across yours. It was quiet for a moment, until you started to sniffle again. Eddie stops his movements, wondering if he heard what he had heard correctly. Then, you shuddered and a tear fell onto his shoulder. He looks over at you quickly.

“Y/n, what's wrong now?” He asks while looking down at you, crying on his shoulder. You roll your eyes up to look at his, tears blurring your vision.

“I missed you.” Your lip quivers at him. He laughs at your crying over him. His hands reach around you and he pulls you into his lap, placing them on your hips. He lets out a sigh.

“Baby, I missed you too, I didn’t know you missed me this much though.” He laughs again and runs his hands up your body, making their way to your face again. His hands hold both of your cheeks. “You look so pretty, y/n.” He leans in to kiss both of your cheeks. You really don’t know why you were so emotional, but it was probably from the built up stress, finally being able to release it all.

“I love you.” You reassure him again, wanting him to know you do. Not wanting him to go another day without knowing.

“I love you too, c’mere.” He holds you against his chest and shifts to lay down, basically having you crushing him. Eddie doesn’t mind, he loves when you lay right on top of him. You let out a few sniffles before you start to doze off. Eddie hands rubbing your back soothingly, and throwing his blanket over top of the both of you. One thing about Eddie was that no matter what, he always made sure you were taken care of. Even when he was mad at you, he would open the car door for you, leave out a towel for you whenever you got in the shower, and refused to let you drive with anyone else besides him.

You took it all for granted the past week, and the emotion of it started to bubble in your chest again. He sighed above you, rubbing your arm calmingly.

“Y/n, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you cry this much. I really did fuck the attitude outta you, sweetheart.” You both laugh at his comment. After going over that really, you were alright, you finally started to doze off when his hands started to slow on your back. You hear him start to snore lightly above you shortly after he stopped moving, and you follow his lead quickly.

#eddie #eddie smut #eddie fic #eddie imagine #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson imagine #Eddie munson fic #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine #smut #stranger things x y/n #y/n #eddie munson x y/n

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headfullofpresley · 1 year

Note

i have a request if you are comfortable with it?

maybe you could write a little something about y/n, elvis and caroline having a family portrait photoshoot taken like the presleys had in 1973 by frank carroll in their hillcrest home in beverly hills!

i just know you could make something really sweet out of it your writing is so beautiful! x

𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐂𝐨𝐨𝐥

Word count: 3,3K

Warnings: Elvis being a soft dad, that's about it.

A/N: rose, i always love your requests sm and even though this took me years to post, i loved writing it! 💕

masterlist

A busy, chaotic household wasn’t strange to you or Elvis. You both liked having a lot of people around the house despite the lack of privacy at times and in some strange way, you had grown fond of grown men running around the premises and playing with your daughter.

Caroline loved it just as much- she especially took a liking to Lamar because he’d play airplane with her whenever you weren’t looking and Jerry who she simply couldn’t stay away from every time he was around. To some people it might be strange to raise a child in these circumstances, but Caroline was happy and you and Elvis gave her the love and care that she needed to grow into the independent woman she was bound to become one day.

Her life was anything but normal, but at five years old she didn’t quite seem to realise that yet. Both you and your husband wanted to keep it that way for a little longer.

Elvis was a good father- while he had sometimes wondered what it would be like to have a son, he loved his little girl more than anything in the world and if he could, he would bring her the moon.

But there were certain things he couldn’t do, things that he was simply terrible at. One of those things being making sure his daughter’s hair looked decent and today, it had to look better than decent. Frank Carroll was coming over in less than an hour to take the family portraits you had arranged to be taken and Caroline was currently sitting on the sink in front of him, glaring angrily at him through the mirror she was facing.

Thank God she allowed him to wash her and put on the dress you picked out for her, but doing her hair was always a hurdle. Not only because he was bad at it, but because Caroline was sensitive about her hair. She had been a little fuzzy all morning- up to the point of greatly frustrating you and leaving your daughter in her fathers’ hands, hoping she would go easier on him while you took care of everything in the living area where the photo’s would be taken.

“Ow, Daddy! You’re hurtin’ me!”

He sighed deeply, looking at the blonde through the mirror as he once more lowered the brush and grabbed some detangling spray he knew you always used on her and yourself. Spraying some on the monster knot in her blonde locks-which he certainly was not going to tell her or you about- he looked at her as he spoke.

“You know your mama is way more rough than me- you want me to call her?”

She immediately widened her eyes, shaking her head which he stopped by putting a gentle hand on top of her little head. She knew that whenever you did her hair she’d be in more pain because you did it faster and without thinking, which ended with Caroline screaming and crying most of the time. There were days where the little girl would sit still and oblige, but with the state her hair was in right now, that wasn’t going to happen.

“That’s what I thought,” Elvis chuckled, pressing a firm kiss on her cheek which she giggled at before wiping it off playfully. He laughed as he put the spray down and inhaled deeply, going back to combing the tangles out of her hair. He decided to leave the worst for last and aside from some small whimpers, Caroline had been good the entire time.

Until he was forced to face that birds nest in the middle.

Caroline’s cheeks were flushed, eyes squeezed shut as she cried so loud it made Elvis’ ears ring. If she wasn’t in actual pain right now, he might have laughed at the sight- but his little girl was truly in pain and it made his heart drop and curse you for letting him do this. He put the brush down, wrapping his arms around her tiny frame as her cries were starting to come out soundless, a sign that she was truly over it.

“I’m sorry, baby- Daddy’s sorry. It’s almost done, almost,” he whispered as he rocked her from side to side, kissing her cheek and wiping her tears away. His large hand found its home on her back, rubbing it soothingly as he told her to breathe. She inhaled shaky breaths as she turned around, wrapping her arms around his neck.

He comforted her for a little bit before he gently pushed her out of his embrace so he could look at her, thumbing away the tears that rolled down her cheeks. She was still sniffling and trembling as if the world was coming to an end.

“You wanna give it one more try? If it hurts too much, I’ll stop, okay?”

Caroline looked at her father through her teary lashes, her fingers pulling at her lower lip nervously. It took her a few seconds to nod- her father was like her big hero, he had never told her a lie so in her logic, he would definitely not be lying now either. Elvis smiled at her and gently pulled her hands away from her face, pressing a kiss on her lips before he turned her around again and grabbed the bottled spray, throwing it up in the air before easily catching it again. The blonde giggled through her tears at her fathers’ antics as he made a show out of it, spraying her hair and distracting her by singing a theme song of some cartoon she liked to watch.

It seemed to be working, because rather than crying while he was combing her hair, she was now singing along and talking his ear off about said cartoon. He was barely listening, but he was glad that she wasn’t in pain anymore.

You had told him what to do with her hair, but after failing at the braids he was supposed to give her over and over again, he settled on twirling two locks at the front around his fingers and clipping them back with two small butterfly clips Caroline insisted on wearing. It wasn’t any over the top hairdo or whatsoever, but Caroline seemed to be happy with it and to him, that was all that mattered.

“Good job, Daddy!” she complimented him, laughing as he lifted her off the sink and put her down, peeling some stray hairs off his royal blue jacket.

“Better than your mama?” he tried, raising an eyebrow at his daughter which she mimicked while shaking her head. Ofcourse it wasn’t better, he knew that, and Caroline wasn’t the type of girl to sugar coat anything. He playfully poked her sides before lifting her on his hip again, walking out of the bathroom. “You little rascal,”

“Oh, you’re just gorgeous, my little Care bear!” you exclaimed with a gasp as your daughter asked you how she looked, wiggling herself out of her fathers’ arms and into yours. She giggled excitedly as she snaked her arms around your neck, pressing her cheek against yours.

“Look, Daddy gave me butterflies!” pointing at the clips in her hair, you and Elvis laughed. You hummed and nodded, widening your eyes in excitement at her as she looked at you with the same look on her face.

“I see that, they’re adorable, baby. And what happened to the French braids I told Daddy to give you?” you asked, turning to Elvis with a grin on your face. Caroline giggled and cupped her hands over her mouth, whispering in your ear.

She wasn’t very good at whispering, so when she told you he wasn’t good at doing her hair, he heard it. Caroline let out a squeal as Elvis playfully poked her sides again before taking her out of your arms, looking at her with a feigned pout.

She smiled as she grabbed his face in her little hands. “Don’t worry, Daddy. You’re good at other things,”

“Like what, hm?”

“Reading! You always do the voices, but Mommy never does. She’s not very good at that,”

Elvis threw his head back as he let out a hearty laugh while you gasped, taking a step closer to the duo and squeezing Caroline’s feet through her shoe softly. “Go play with Jerry- I’ll call you when it’s time for the photo’s,” you told her, to which she nodded excitedly as she wiggled her way out of Elvis’ arms, who put her down just in time.

“You don’t do the voices?” Elvis smirked as he walked into the kitchen with you, taking off his jacket as you handed him a cup of coffee. You rolled your eyes with a laugh as you poured yourself a cup too, leaning against the counter.

“You can’t make a French braid?” you shot back at him as you blew into your steaming coffee, a small grin raising the corner of your mouth.

“Honey, that’s a woman’s job- ‘course I can’t,”

You raised both eyebrows at your husband, taking a small sip of your coffee as you hummed softly. He chuckled as he watched you nod to yourself before taking a step closer to him.

“You’re right,” you told him with a smile, stealing his cup of coffee out of his hand. “But so is drinking coffee in the kitchen at 11 in the morning,” you shrugged, pouring his coffee down the drain and placing the cup in the sink. Elvis gawked at you, his now empty hand still in the same position.

Oh God- he wished Caroline would just stay tiny. Because even now, she was already a lot like you and he knew the older she'd get, the more back talk he was going to get.

You knew Elvis could never really tell if you were serious in these kind of moments or not- most of the time you weren’t, but you liked to keep him on his toes. And as you were starting to laugh softly to yourself while drinking your coffee, he sighed deeply and shook his head, a chuckle rolling off his tongue.

“You’re a menace, you know that?” he told you as he stepped forward, snaking his arms around your waist to press you against his chest. You put your cup down on the counter and smiled lovingly at him, running your hands up his chest and fixing the collar of his shirt.

“I know,” you said, bringing your hand up to fix a lock of his hair behind his ear. “I learned from the best,”

“Nuh-uh. You were born this way, I know that’s a fact,” he grinned, pecking your lips. “And I also know I ain’t never doing Care’s hair anymore- not when it’s in the state it was in. She was screaming bloody murder!”

You laughed as you slapped his chest playfully. “Oh, you big old softie- she isn’t made of sugar. You should’ve seen me as a little girl, I put my mother through hell every morning and I guess I’m gettin’ my karma now. Now you know what it’s like,”

It wasn’t like every morning with Caroline was terrible, but most mornings… yeah, they were. To Elvis, Caroline was a perfect little angel that could do no wrong but you always saw yourself in her. You knew all her little tricks, because you had once used them on your own mother. Her crying those crocodile tears because she didn’t like to get her hair done wasn’t the end of the world.

“Evil, evil woman,” Elvis grinned as he shook his head, slipping his hands down to your ass to give it a playful squeeze. “I’m glad I’m not the bad cop though,”

“Oh, don’t get it twisted, baby- you just wait until she’s sixteen and starts dating, then we’ll see who’s the ‘bad cop’,”

He was just about to take a sip of your coffee which he stole from the counter as he gasped, making you laugh. You gently pushed him off of you and slipped out of his embrace, smiling at him.

“I oughta spank you for that,”

You managed to step away from him before he could grab you, laughing with him. “Tonight- now, don’t get coffee on your shirt. Frank will be here any minute!”

He rolled his eyes as he watched you sneak out of the kitchen, taking a sip of coffee as he leaned against the counter. The both of you knew there was no ‘good cop, bad cop’ in this household because Caroline loved you both just as much. Even though Elvis allowed her to get away with a little more than you did, didn’t mean he didn’t have his rules. And just because you were perhaps more strict than Elvis, it didn’t mean you didn’t like to spoil and baby her at times too. Still, Elvis did not want to think about his baby girl ever dating but now that you had planted the idea in his head, it was all he could think about.

“Carolineee, look here!” Frank chimed from behind the camera, wiggling his fingers at the five year old who was currently dancing around her fathers’ cane that was resting under his palm.

You should’ve known that taking professional pictures with a five year old wouldn’t be easy.

At first, she started crying because she had never seen the photographer before and needed a little time to get used to him. Then she got distracted by the Mafia that was wandering through the house, begging for Lamar to pick her up and twirl her around above his head. Now it was Elvis’ cane that suddenly seemed to be the most interesting thing in the world.

“Care, come sit,” Elvis told her, grabbing her arm and pulling her onto his lap. He didn’t mean to be as rough as he was or sound as impatient as he did, but it was enough for the blonde to glare angrily at him and crawl onto your lap instead.

Frank waited patiently as you softly and gently scolded your daughter, telling her it would all be over if she’d just sit still and do as told. Luckily her mood shifted as quick as the weather and she was giggling when Elvis tickled her sides, making her laugh out loud which made Frank take the opportunity to snap pictures.

The photographer figured the pictures would come out better if you’d just do as you always did rather than posing for the camera and Caroline seemed to prefer this as well. She gasped as you and Elvis kissed each other, hiding her eyes behind her hands before she squeezed herself in the middle and pressed a kiss on Elvis’ cheek and then on yours.

You took a few pictures with Caroline alone, which she seemed to enjoy a lot, but as soon as Elvis came back for his turn, she immediately crawled onto his lap as he sat in the chair again. You got up and stood next to Frank, laughing as you crossed your arms.

“The glasses? Are those necessary?” you questioned. You liked your husband’s fashion choices, you did, but you had hoped that maybe once he would keep the glasses off.

“Keep them on, Daddy! They’re cool!” Caroline giggled excitedly as she swung her legs back and forth while sitting on Elvis’ knee, tapping her small finger against his glasses.

Elvis grinned as he looked at you, shrugging as he rested his cane against the arm of the chair. “You heard the boss,”

Caroline smiled so bright that her little cheeks were aching and you laughed, watching your daughter and husband pose a little for the camera before Caroline once more started talking about cartoons and other random things that interested her at the moment. The moment her little hands reached out to Elvis’ glasses and pulled them off his face to put them on her own, your heart swelled. She managed to make everyone in the room burst out in laughter as she slipped off Elvis’ lap and grabbed his cane, posing with her fathers’ belongings. Elvis couldn’t stop laughing in the background, cheering her on as his eye caught yours, shooting you a wink.

A week later, you, Elvis and Caroline sat on the couch as Joe tore the paper off the huge picture frame that was being held upright by Vernon. You had seen all the pictures (and made sure they’d all be put in a photo book), but the one that was currently revealed was your favorite and you wanted it to have a place in your home.

Even if you would move out of Hillcrest, you’d take this picture everywhere with you and hang it up because it was simply adorable.

The three of you all wore big smiles in the picture, Caroline ofcourse sitting in her fathers’ lap. You looked like a perfect, normal family and although you were anything but, you wanted Caroline to have fond memories of her childhood and of her mother and father.

This picture would hopefully hold a special place in her heart when she’d get older- it already had in yours.

“Elvis is so cool!” Caroline squealed as she jumped from the couch and walked over to the picture, admiring it from up close. Everybody laughed, Elvis getting up to throw his daughter in the air before catching her and placing her on his hip.

“What’d you just call me?”

“Elvis!” she grinned playfully at him, already knowing what was coming as he tickled her tummy, her little hands trying to stop his bigger ones. “Elvis, Elvis, Elvis!”

“I’m your Daddy, you little rascal,” he laughed, squeezing her in his embrace before putting her down and kneeling in front of the picture. She immediately took the opportunity to plant herself on his knee, wrapping her arm around his neck. She looked at you as you kneeled down beside Elvis and smiled brightly.

“Can we hang it in my room?” she asked, making you chuckle as you kissed her forehead.

“It’s a little big, Care bear. I’ll get you a smaller one of you and Elvis, okay?” you grinned, calling him by his name on purpose. He glared at you as Caroline laughed and nodded, though was immediately distracted as Lamar came into sight and ran toward him.

You and Elvis stood up straight, you pressed against his side as he slipped his arm around your waist.

“Caroline, what’s your Daddy's name?” Lamar joked as he raised her from the ground and held her above his head. She spread her arms as she laughed, looking at her father.

“Elvis Presley!” she squealed, giggling uncontrollably as she was spun around in the air.

Elvis rolled his eyes, laughing softly as he turned to you, leaning down as he looked into your eyes.

“This is your fault,” he whispered, the corner of his mouth rising into a smirk as he guided you out of the living room and into the hallway. You knew where he was taking you, but you didn’t stop him- couldn’t stop him because you were laughing so hard. “I think now’s a good time for that spanking,”

Your husband didn’t spank you when he got you into your bedroom- you wouldn’t let him because your daughter was in the other room. But you did have a quick make out session that felt as if you were teenagers again, having to keep your ears perked for footsteps coming down the hall.

Only this time it weren’t the footsteps of worried parents or nosy friends, but tiny ones that belonged to your daughter. You were off of your husband before she could burst through the door and little Caroline had no idea what was going on or what her parents had been doing, simply grabbing your and Elvis’ hands to pull you out of the room and show the portrait that the boys had hung on the wall.

Every time she saw her father in that picture she would call him by his first name- neither of you had any idea why she did it, but Elvis figured as long as he was the only man on her mind, he had nothing to worry about.

At least, not for a few years.

taglist: @breadsquash @generoustreemystic @woundmetender @returntoelvis @prayerstopresley @ab4eva @marriedtopresley @steph-speaks @wonka-gifs @notstefaniepresley @ellie-24 @dollksj @webbedwebs @re3kin @wivette @eliseinmemphis @18lkpeters @rosepresley @septembersghost

#elvis #elvis presley #elvis presley x reader #elvis x reader #elvis x you #elvis presley x you #elvis x y/n #elvis presley x y/n #elvis fluff #elvis presley fluff #tamwrites

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squarebracket-trickster · 2 months

Text

Sorry guys, rant incoming. I considered deleting this but I put too much effort in.

"girlboss" "girl dinner" "girl math" "boy math" "gen z are making fun of us for wearing x" "here's how to dress like gen z:" "girlies" "girl's night" "boy's night" "me and the boys" "90s kid"

"I don't feel like an adult" "I'm 34 and I can tell you, I still don't feel like an adult either." "My parents seemed like real adults when they were my age." "I still feel like a teenager."

Maybe you'd feel more like an adult if you started calling yourself one. Maybe you'd feel more like an adult if you stopped trying to dress like a teenager. Maybe you should move your bed out from the wall and get a wallet. Maybe find a calendar app that works for you.

You are an adult. Even if you live with your parents. Even if you do part-time shift work at minimum wage. Even if you haven't graduated college. Even if you are single. These are adult things to do. Because you are doing them. And you are an adult. Start treating yourself like an adult. Fake it 'till you make it if you have to.

In other, writing-related, news:

That trend on TikTok of 20-40 something women authors (and writers yet to be published) promoting their books like,

"Omg! I can't believe I've sold X number of copies!! I never thought I would!" "Ahhhh imagine publishing your book and all your dreams come true and now you get to meet famous authors and work with big names in the industry!!" "Would you read a book where [proceeds to list a bunch of oversaturated tropes that tell me nothing about the actual plot]?"

It reeks of infantilization. If you didn't believe anyone would want to read your book, why should I? You made it on the NYT bestseller list! Stop acting like a mega-fan who got to meet a celebrity. You are their peer! "Would you read a book--" What if I wouldn't? Why does it matter to you what I think of your book? And for the love of god stop hiding behind tropes you know are already popular. "Here is my book: This is what it is about." Have some goddamn confidence.

It is fine to mention in passing "this idea was really far-fetched so I didn't know if it would appeal" or "I was struggling with self-esteem when I wrote this". It's fine to fan a little bit. It's fine to discuss the tropes in your book. But why are you building your brand as an author off of your inferiority complex? You are using your poor self-esteem as a marketing tactic to seem "humble" and "relatable" but it's coming across as unprofessional and desperate for reassurance. You are an adult. You are competent. The more you act like it the more you will believe it.

And of course, I haven't seen a man promote his book this way...

On another note, do any of the 20-40 something women writers who do "write with me" videos on TikTok actually enjoy writing or are they just doing it for the aesthetic?

They all have gorgeous minimalism writing spaces full of white and pink and a macbook beneath a window. Their makeup is done and they are conventionally pretty to start with. But their entire video is just them talking about how little progress they made, how many pages they deleted, how often they got distracted, how frustrated they are. And like, yeah. We all have those days. But what about the good lines you can't wait to share? The days when the words just flow? The cool stuff you learned while researching? Why don't you ever make videos about that?

Is this some other attempt to seem "relatable" by only talking about the "bad" side of writing? Because again, it's coming across as lacking confidence at best and, at worst, that you don't actually know how to write. And that is not the brand you want as an author.

Again, its always women. Why must women market their self-esteem issues in order to sell their art? Why must we be perpetually awestruck children (girlies, book girls) in over our heads?

#also why do I get the sense these women are selling a lifestyle more than they are actually promoting their own books?#I feel like someone more qualified than me could link this to modelling good christian gender roles #and cultural conformity or something #it isn't lost on me how much of this is about trying to seem humble #and how much validation is tied to protestant success and hard work ideas #is this where the indoctrination starts?#give us 'role models' as influencers #also Alex Aster of Lightlark fame is the WORST for this #her content makes me physically sick to watch #and again interesting that it is pretty widely agreed on at this point that she is an industry plant #interesting that the industry plant is leaning so heavy on the humility and infantilization of women tactics #as though appealing to protestant christians is a major concern of the industry #what's that about? is it just sales? or is it related to those evangelical groups trying get books banned?#how much influence does conservative christian america have within the trad pub industry?#maybe I am really reaching here idk #I don't have any sources #it's just speculation I am open to be proven wrong

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enigmawriteswhump · 2 months

Text

The Last Librarian

Part 2

💠 Previous

______________

Rubbing the line out, I sigh. Pushing my chair back, the pencil clatters against the desk. This face was never coming into fruition, no matter how many lines I drew over.

I could never see his face clearly. I've always felt alienated when drawing faces. There are just some faces I found hard to see. A nose that never could be quite seen from any angle, ears that merged with hair, eyes which blurred colours between brown and black. A smile that disappeared at the edges.

I've tried to explain it to doctors, to opticians, and been prescribed a few dozen different supplements to combat my literal face blindness.

I'm not even shortsighted. I'm longsighted, if anything.

I'm used to it now, though. I don't think mum ever truly believed me. She called me her little pansy, and sometimes I wondered if I was half plant with the way I saw the world. Trying so hard to make roots. Focused on looking upwards. Finding light was warming, that made me want to absorb it as if was the only sustenance I needed.

But I supposed a child would lean on something comforting as imagination. I've always known really, it a childhood fantasy, and the world was so much blurrier as a child. Memories always are. The logic pointed towards the fact my short-sightedness had gotten better as I got older. But sometimes, sometimes it had days where it flared up.

I once even thought it was a brain tumour, but because I didn't have floaters or specks, it was swatted down as easily as a fly.

"Tiredness." They said.

Of course, why didn't I think of that?

But sometimes, it was just nice to believe in a little fantasy. Maybe it was why I drew to the holistic hands of Clara and her spirits, her world where rituals and tarots were true. Kinship between two souls sharing a belief. A faithful link to the world.

Lucas and his love of books, Clara and her spirits... And Theo, the subject of my drawing.

You would think that if I could not see someone clearly, that drawing it would be illogical. But, ever since I grew old enough to realise that this curse of uniquely poor sight that was mine alone, my sketchbooks were my proof. Of sanity, of having a repeat experience - like dejavu. You'd write it down in your journal, right, if you experienced that too?

I take myself to bed, pushing aside my drawing for now. Both frustration and indignation swirling in my chest, swearing that tomorrow, when I saw Theo, I was going to focus.

I've known him nearly a year... And I still can't draw his face. Not quite the illustrator I always wanted to be.

Surely the cramp in my hand would be worth it.

______________

"You're still here." a silky baritone slid against me, a warm pulse of my heart at the slight tilt of his head. Inwardly, I berate myself for wanting to ask him out. Take him for a good meal, with a nice sophisticated wine I could imagine him drinking. Having deep, fuzzy conversations over scallops and patte and whatever else those fancy restaurants served.

He's married, for God's sake.

Still, I'm blaming my hormones and lack of nice, gentile males available. Maybe, maybe seeing someone warm, sophisticated eased something in me. That feeling I had when I leant over the table to stare at my English lecturer in college, entranced with the way she spoke. Her articulation and ringing nuance of her voice lifting. Orating to hundreds, but speaking to one. That feeling when you've breathed too deeply and you're searching for more air around them. Someone who spoke to me.

"Of course. Sarah asked if I could upload these textbooks to the system." I shrug, half-smiling as Theo browsed the shelf in front. Daring to strike my gaze across his face, I hoped I would finally see the edges of his smile.

Then he's turning and I curse. I curse because he's never mentioned his wife (or husband!), and I see those fine, neat fingers clasped around a new hardback. One I'd put there, giddily, the day before.

There's a hole where my breath should be, the slight effeminate touch of his eyebrows. That balanced jawline that throws his face in dichotomy with that sharp, feral smile. At least, the blur around the edges feel rough, unpracticed. Unnatural.

"You're reading a Si-fi fantasy? I thought you stuck to the classics?" my lips puckered in false mockery.

There was laughter that seemed to glint, as his huff of air brought me back to the book placed in front of me. His curved, arched fingers of a pianist now retreating.

"I do not indulge usually, however today I felt this book may challenge my preconceptions."

I raise a sardonic eyebrow and pass the scanner over the barcode, the beep the only sound between us.

"Oh, and what preconceptions do you have?" I raise the book back to him, it half hanging into the air until his fingers webbed out and caught it.

"Many." his dark hair swooped across his neck as he leant forward, "And what about you, little bird? Do you enjoy your perceptions challenged?"

"Bird is a funny nickname for me, a flightless animal."

His grin widened a touch further, the blurriness spreading. His meticulous smile bordering on animalistic, if I was indulging in the fantasical.

"Bird or not, one invented flight and one discovered it. Which came first?"

I grin, this a riddle of his I could answer, "Well birds were around in the time of dinosaurs. So birds were first in discovering it."

Theo leant back, a conceding head nod, "Perhaps. I think it truly depends on the semantics of those words, even if you were not inherently wrong."

I roll my eyes. Presumptious know-it-all. And yet, I loved being right, of outsmarting someone who'd been so obviously ensconced in riches and education. Of besting someone who seemed to carry such wisdom.

"Are you planning on a trip soon, since it's nearly been a year?" a small knot grew in my stomach. I reached out to fiddle with my spare key chain.

"I was thinking so..." his eyes grew distant, and he looked out of the windows facing the street, "But I feel unsure of my destination. I've spent so long wondering, I don't know if I have a calling now as much as I used to..." his sigh brought me to a strange longing in his eyes. I almost felt sorry for the guy, until I saw his armani watch and suddenly discounted it. It wasn't like he had financial problems that he'd have to cover before he got out of here. He could escape. Forever.

"I've always wondered why you came here. It's not that pretty, it doesn't have a lot of facilities cities offer, and we have one decent forest." I smile sardonically, "Those who stay here are those who have family nearby, or who want a quiet, normal life."

"Unlike you." it was not a question.

I shrug, peeling away a stray strand from my small guinea-pig keyring.

"I'll go and change my life at some point. I'm just... Working up to it."

He raised an eyebrow, showing his welcome for more.

He always was. Always so giving.

But I grimace, seeing this small fantasy of us walking into our local restaurant, dressed in those fine clothes... It all disappearing if I told him the truth. His long, powerful thighs wrapped in dark jeans, glinting with the small chain that hung from his pocket. The chain for his vintage pocket watch I've wanted to wrap my fingers around for months. A striking figure in that silky black button-up, with his hair down swaying gently as he greeted me. or That smile I wanted to earn. His hand waiting for me. Him insisting on paying, but I fight for my own right to do so with our shared laughter. He makes me swear that he'd pay next time.

Not the lowly library assistant too piss-poor to figure out if I could work the gym into my schedule. But knowing that if I quit the library I'd loose Lucas. That spark of joy I've missed I just couldn't let go of.

That this guy was married, and if I stepped out of my small world... I might create ripples I couldn't take back. But I'll live in this world. It's safer that way. It won't hurt so much when it breaks apart.

"Are you wanting to order another book in?" I tap against the desk as the hollow, plastic top rattled.

Theo shook his head. His eyes dropped in a way that would have made me feel guilty, if he didn't have someone to go home too.

He doesn't look like a Theo, not really. Looks more like a Byron, like the poet. Or a Sir of Lancaster. Something kingly. He has the face for it, at least with what I could see.

I feel him drift back to the shelves, as if waiting for a moment to speak. As if buying time in the ten minutes before I close up. The textbooks could always be done tomorrow.

There's a gust of wind that flurries by the windows, sending a whistle of air through the cracks.

"That child who comes here on a Wednesday... Who is he?" his question came unexpectedly, and I almost jump. It's nearing the most personal question he's outrightly asked.

Theo always came later than Lucas. Perhaps Theo saw Lucas on his way in today.

I turn away, a frown twisting pensively on my lips.

"Just a child I help look after. He's a good kid. Has a dad in the army too, and the mum's run off her feet." I trail my finger down the desk, "He reminds me of someone I used to know. Lucas just needs some attention, especially since he has an older brother who's not the best influence."

"So you are trying to keep him on the straight and narrow, even while you're not related?"

I glance up, mildly perturbed at how close Theo's assumption hit so close to home, "No... I just want to guide him. Be a friend, for when he needs one. I'm hoping I'll be able to be there for him for when I persuade his mum to get him an ADHD diagnosis."

I think of my attempts of conversation with her so far, my subtle hints, my tips for his attention span. The answer to why he couldn't sit on his chair without wiggling incessantly. All flagged down with that offended look in her eyes.

"How do you know?" he asked quietly.

I give Theo my best half-smile and gesture to myself, "Four words. Like calls to like."

Theo's brows raise ever so slightly, "You have decided to trust me with that information."

I chuckle, "It's not like handing out that information could get me killed."

Theo shrugs and I laugh - I laugh before I could help it. And it's loud, boisterous and I would hate it if it hadn't brought that same smile to his face. The smile I wanted to recreate.

He bows, slightly, nothing more than a slight dip of his body, before he retreats.

"The night calls, and I find myself parched... So good evening, my lady." he murmurs, and I feel wistful as he exits. He has this way of speaking that was so archaic sometimes I almost think he's pulling my leg with it.

I hope one day soon, I'll slip in a note that had my number on there. Brave the future with hope in my heart. To ask him if he wore that ring for show or whether there was a place for me too.

______________

Okay, so the real story starts soon *rubs hands* 😏

Thank you for reading! Once again, this is an ongoing AU inspired by @oliversrarebooks, so please check their work out if you hadn't already!

Let me know if you want to be on a taglist for this! 😊

#The Last Librarian #Enigma Writes whump #Fantasy whump #Urban fantasy whump #Whumpee #Whumper #enigma writes

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forlix · 5 months

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talking ab fallen star cos that fic consumed me when i first read it and consumed me again when i reread it earlier 🤚

firstly the way he kept his promise to bring mc to the airport it really broke me. it's so melancholic like there have been broken promises before but hyunjin wouldn't dare end their relationship on another one? you can still feel the love he has for t hemin the way he tiredly made his way to drive to their house and to the airport after he came back from his own long flight it honestly makes me insane.

i love how in the car there's this like faint and twisted idea of hope lingering between them. some part of them still longs for the other and it's right there they could just grab the very thing they yearn for but it's incomplete. it's not the same. honestly when mc mutters "idiot" it really made me think like are they calling hyunjin an idiot? or themselves an idiot? and ac i feel like they meant both of them are idiots for allowing themselves to end up in this awkward but necessary situation.

there are some unresolved feelings and unanswered questions while they sit in silence on the way to the airport, but the airport scene™️ gives them both the closure they need. they're not getting back together, no matter how much one might like, but the tension in the car shows a sliver of hope that they would and i feel like it really emanates in your writing and makes me as a reader reader hope for a happier ending as well. also the shaky "fuck" describes my feelings as i read this as well thanks btw 🥲

and this is all from my own mind but i imagine reader saw a photo or maybe got an invitation to hyun's wedding and they realize he's okay and it makes them reflect on themselves and with a heavy heart they realize theyre okay too. the worst part is there's no definitive point where they felt or "became" okay, because like you said, time is the best medicine and gradually mc just healed. but knowing that hyun is okay and has moved on kind of popped a bubble of reserved feelings and its not necessarily sad its just kind of disheartening or numbing?

idk how i started yapping sm lol i read wayyyy into this HAHAHA. i chose to analyze this instead of study for my finals ☝️🤓 but in conclusion, xian i love falling star and its yet another product of ur mindblowing sexy brain i love you so much bby and i js wanna say im so proud of you <3

when i tell u i saw this while studying (also for my finals) and it had my jaw on the floor my head in the clouds i couldn't focus for the LIFE of me afterwards. WDYM YOU WROTE ME AN ESSAY OF UR THOUGHTS ON MY WRITING? IS IT MY BIRTHDAY?? i love you so fucking much omg. thank u for sending this in my lovely star :') putting my VERY ramble-y response under the cut

"there have been broken promises before but hyunjin wouldn't dare end their relationship on another one" is soooo poignantly put and so so so correct. honestly him remembering the day and time of the flight was supposed to be a show of pettiness at first, like "you called me unreliable so here i am bitch" lmfaooo but let's be real you're right on the money with his real intentions. he was literally counting down the days until he had an excuse to see mc again.. he was also worried about the flight being so early and wanted to ensure their safety... AGGHHH not me hurting myself thinking ab this couple 😭

"when mc mutters "idiot" it really made me think like are they calling hyunjin an idiot? or themselves an idiot?" I LOVEEEE LOVE LOVE THIS? god u are a genius i adore you. i totally see this being the case. if i may add, maybe mc thinks they're an idiot because they reciprocate hyunjin's yearning even after everything that's transpired. like inward frustration that there are still feelings there? yeah. ur a genius.

about the slivers of hope after the car scene, i apologize for the lack of a happy ending love </3 the fic was definitely challenging (and saddening) but also refreshing to write. i really wanted to explore a couple that is well and truly doomed bc some of the relationships in our lives are doomed, yaknow? and you can recognize that and still have a lot of love for the person at the same time bc human beings are fucking complicated like that. but please consider this my official justification for posting something so depressing

"and this is all from my own mind but i imagine reader saw a photo or maybe got an invitation to hyun's wedding and they realize he's okay and it makes them reflect on themselves and with a heavy heart they realize theyre okay too." FUCKKKK NOT THE WEDDING PICTURE. this just made me frown irl. if i may add.....again..... what if they physically run into each other and that's how mc knows? at the start of the convo mc kinda feels the familiar stirrings again but it's more out of habit than anything. they talk for a bit and it's really pleasant and mc notices he has a ring on his finger and they realize they feel ✨ nothing ✨ about it anymore. but there's just an inkling of remorse remaining about the whole situation. like a passing thought of "maybe in a different universe we would've made things work"....haha.....fuck. BUT mc is happy hyunjin's happy, and mc is happy to have recovered, and life goes on

as for ur entire last paragraph i might actually cry, i'm so glad you love the fic and i truly do appreciate u taking the time to look into my fic this closely so so so much :'( you keep me going, I MEAN IT

#smothers u with kisses this made my whole life ily #*inbox

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away-ward · 3 months

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Why would Will try to limit how many chandeliers Emmy has? I assume she would have a warehouse when she and Damon keep supplies for jobs. It’s not like she’s filling every inch of her ceiling with them. That’s just dumb design. So if she wants to have her collection of chandeliers, let her?

And of course, Damon has to spoil her. This is extra irritating because I went back and checked the tampon scene that PD wrote, and they ended it with “Damon probably went in and got them”

Like. I don’t try to defend PD’s portrayal of willemmy anymore. Obviously, I just don’t get it. But it would be impossible to do so when Will is constantly telling Emory she can’t have something or he won’t get her something, and then Damon goes and saves the day.

I feel like we get it, already. Damon is everyone’s everything, and Rika is the star of the show." - your response to my anon post of all those extras from PD

I FUCKING KNOW RIGHT!!! And it really doesn't make sense at all that Will wouldn't buy Em another chandelier because LITERALLY IN FIRE NIGHT he said something like "i'm not gonna stop giving emmy what she wants" when she wanted to play with him so??????? PD is so- god, how can someone be this contradictory and frustrating?

At this point, i believe PD's the kind of author who likes to write books with weird-out-of-nowhere shock factors, but they don't know how to wrap them up well. That's why they kept on writing things that don't make sense. I feel like they're the kind of people who likes to do weird dramatic things (and write them too) and then they don't think their consequences will catch up to them, example: they're surprised when people don't get their connection and their expression because they didn't notice that THEY were the ones who were bad at explaining things, or just plainly never explained them well in the first place, with any coherence. Literally reading PD's books felt like an acid trip, being gaslighted by the author, only for the author to be like "heyyyy, no no no" but the text was "yes yes yes", like jumping through hoops just to get a point, and still not making it. But the author, of course, with their cult readers would be like "nooo it makes sense, you just don't get it" when literally those points they said still don't? Make? Sense? Just because they FEEL something, not because they THINK something. The last time i felt gaslighted by an author like PD was with Sarah J Maas' ACOTAR & TOG series, and it wasn't a good time, AT ALL. Author kept on contradicting what she wrote, and acting like readers are stupid or silly. I hate to be put in this position because i feel like these kinds of authors don't respect readers enough to trust us with their craft so not only they butchered their own story, even when we have out own underrstanding according to what THEY wrote, we're still wrong, just because we don't "FEEL" like they did. WTAF!

interesting point too, because wasn't Damon Torrance like this? His characterisation was literally just edgy Shock factor all the time, with no coherence, always being in the centre when unneeded, then he yaps yaps yaps, womp womp, acting like he has a point, but then the outcome of his plans, words, thoughts and actions that we read and we see were always so fucking poor. The reality of Damon Torrance did not match up with the rumour of Damon Torrance. Personally, I think what Damon lacked was GIRTH, he got a a dick, but does he have the girth? Absolutely not. He talks so much for someone who does nothing, and i hate these kinds of characters in fiction the most. Like if i can name one character who had girth, it's most likely Victor from Vicious by V.E. Schwab. That guy did have big dick energy. Didn't have to be overhyped by anyone, because Schwab took her time to craft and execute his character well on page. Damon was so icky to me because he was talking bigger than he can chew. Like No wonder he's PD's fav, like they both just don't make sense in a way? God, i sound so condescending, but i see more of their similarities now. And another example is Kaleb and Tiernan from Credence, again, horny rich fragile blonde blue eyes who can do no wrong, with edgy borderline abusive dark haired guy who got no personality than being edgy and wanting to paint the town red. The fact that Credence too was super fucking weird, and surprise surprise, Kaleb (the main LI) was so similar to Damon in his characterisation, even though there was no sense to hold on to that main pairing. Like??? Wtf? Tiernan could end up with the two other characters, but PD still chose Kaleb for her?

idk man, these careless way of crafting their own stories really made me lose some respect for certain authors. I understand it can happen to anyone, but damn, surely not too much? Especially the willemmy chandelier and tampon extras? It doesn't make sense! Will Grayson would never, he went out of his way to research about emmy's jewish fasting culture, but can't buy her tampons or chandeliers? Like did PD really think he was shallow like that? This man who hanged out with banks and choose to pick her bras? Wtf? No way would she be ashamed of that. Especially when it's so important to emmy. And the fact that he doesn't know emmy had vibrators? Ok now lets be fucking for real 🙄 PD really just dgaf about willemmy.

Right. PD’s treatment of Will reminds me of when TV characters eventually become a caricature of themselves the longer the series goes on. The Will PD is currently writing doesn't seem to reflect the Will that was in NF at all, and reminds me of how I thought the Will in NF and the Will in the rest of the series were two different characters because they didn’t match at all.

PD definitely likes to use a shock factor, and I guess most people read the books for that alone. There’s relatively few who are still stuck on them and who are also bothered by the lack of story development or follow through. Like, obviously I can sit through crazy, up and down plot lines, and stories that go back and forth, and plots that take a while to develop, but it has to go somewhere eventually.

And trust me, I suck at wrapping up my own long stories. Conclusions are hard. Keeping characters consistent isn’t easy. But I’m not asking for money, so I feel less bad about my skill level.

Damon was built up quite a bit, and for me, he didn’t hit. I, too, felt he was all talk and no bite. The more PD plays with his character, making him everyone’s everything, the less interested I am in him. I still stand-by that his book should have gone last and his redemption arc should have been the final climax of the series. Damon in NF feels so sterile. He’s so clean, nothing he does can scare me because I already know where his story goes. I want the scary side back, I want him to be exclusive to a few people. I want people to die curious about him. It wouldn’t have mattered how contradictory his character was if some of the mystery surrounding him remained in the end.

The reality of Damon Torrance did not match up with the rumour of Damon Torrance.

Again, this is more of a writing issue than anything else. It’s like that post from a few days back that talks about having your characters come up with a genius plan means… having to plot a genius plan yourself. It’s not easy when you’re not a genius and don’t have a writing team. IMO, the biggest issue was that people in-universe were supposed to hate Damon and be scared of him, but PD couldn’t hate Damon because they (and through Rika) sympathized with him too much, so he got watered down to be more palatable. Fan reaction doesn’t really factor much, because most readers these days will eat up any old “morally gray” or “amoral” character as long as he’s hot enough.

Cannot comment on Victor because I haven’t read Vicious, but I believe you. But your point here:

Didn't have to be overhyped by anyone, because Schwab took her time to craft and execute his character well on page.

Is exactly what I was thinking as well. PD started to believe their own hype around Damon, and in the end, they couldn’t keep him in the mold they created. Sometimes characters grown in directions that’s unpredictable, but also…sometimes authors sabotage themselves. I’ve done it. Again, not sure what happened with PD, if this is the case or not. But it just feels like that to me.

Then again, I was never really into Damon. I’ve always been way more interested in Kai and Will.

And another example is Kaleb and Tiernan from Credence

Never read Credence either, but was watching an unhinged recap on Youtube. Didn’t finish 'cause I got bored. Nice to know Kaleb was the one picked. I’m somehow not at all surprised by that. But gah, why?

This man who hanged out with banks and choose to pick her bras? Wtf? No way would she be ashamed of that. Especially when it's so important to emmy. And the fact that he doesn't know emmy had vibrators?

I actually hadn’t factored in the bra scene, thanks for the reminder. Solid point. Will Grayson goes above and beyond for the people he cares about, but somehow that’s all forgotten when Emmy asks for something, all so Damon can come in and be the hero?

Can we just stick Rika and Damon in a cage, so the rest of the characters can get a chance to actually shine? I wonder what PD would do if they were challenged to write a scene in which Rika and Damon couldn’t be used or mentioned? Maybe then we’d get some proper characterization.

As you can see, I’m feeling a bit condescending, too.

-KO

#asked and answered 232 #asked and answered #series discussion #ko's dns tag #related to prev ask #asked and answered 231

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keezuzz · 8 months

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It’s hard for me to write this right now because I had a fear of sharing my own personal experience/ story because of the fear of judgment but I do want to possibly change someone’s life because I believe this topic is so sensitive yet important. I do smile everyday and thank god for every single experience he has put me through, it made me realize how hard life can be but how much of a blessing life is as well . Anywho, It’s no secret to my close family and friends , how much I battle with my mind everyday and how frustrating it can be to deal with . I’ve decided to join therapy as a teenager , it worked for a while and I decided to just live my life. I went to college , started working with children and I enjoyed most of my time spending it with my family and of course friends . Throughout the years it got better , somedays were bad but somehow I was able to handle it , but one day I wasn’t able to . In April of 2023, I don’t remember the date exactly, I attempted to take my own life because I couldn’t deal with the stress, the pain and just my thoughts anymore . I spent a good amount of time in the hospital and was surrounded by my immediate family. I felt this immense pressure of loneliness in the hospital but I also felt the intense amount of love , not only from my family but the doctors and the universe, something I honestly couldn’t say before this experience. I felt like my world was ending but really it was beginning. It made me in a lack for better words stronger , my word play in my poetry better and it made me appreciate my living being soul a lot more . It sounds strange but this was meant to happen to me , i was meant to share my story so others know they are not alone . Trust me I know bad days feel like they last forever and I’m still learning to be free of the mental enslavement. I’m still learning to ask for help . Most importantly I want to spread love because it is the best thing anyone can ever experience in life without a doubt. I know it just sounds like scrambled words lol but never forget that you were placed on this earth for a reason, it’s okay to be still figuring out what your placement is supposed to be . I’m just glad while I was a little bit unconscious I got to talk to my grandmother in my dreams . - in light of national suicide prevention month

#mental health #nationalsuicideprevention

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stranded-ziggy · 10 months

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Some more thoughts on AI art because God knows we need more of that...

I want to preface this by saying that if you have or are currently making art by prompting AI I wish you the best in your creative endeavors but hope I can make you consider the value of learning any skill that requires patience and dedication.

Learning a skill is hard, perhaps one of the hardest things anyone can do but here's a little tip: You do not need to 'master' anything to enjoy doing it.

I'd consider myself a fairly skilled artist, I can have an idea for a painting and complete it with some accuracy and style at least. It's taken many years to come to this point yes, but I would not consider my journey as an artist to be anywhere near an end.

In fact, I look forward to a year from now when I look back on the work I'm creating these days and realize how far I've come. Sure, there's days when I'm frustrated with how I'm lacking skill in certain areas or how I wish I could paint the way [artist] does but I know in time I'll get there and I also know that my art and my ideas and stories I want to tell aren't going to be told by anyone else, not in my unique voice.

It took a long time to build that mindset but that's why I write think pieces like this, to try and prompt people to start thinking in healthier ways about art and creativity rather than obsessing over how far they still have to go or things like attention online.

Back to AI, I assume this isn't the case for everyone but it seems pretty obvious to me that for a lot of people the appeal of AI is the ability to skip the cue, to skip right to getting the same amount of attention (and profit though trust me there isn't as much profit in art as you think at least not for most of us) as artists they admire. A lot of people don't want to admit this but it's pretty goddamn obvious.

I won't lie, I see very little value in doing anything solely for profit, so maybe I can't appeal to those of you who do. But for those of you who think more like me and see value in art by itself I'd like to say there is also value in failing at art or enjoying making humble art. Lessons to be learned that can be applied everywhere in life.

I learned this lesson through taking up guitar a few years ago. I got so far that I could strum along to and sing most Beatles songs and then I was happy. Maybe I'll never apply myself to guitar the same way I have art but that's fine.

There is nothing wrong with that...I do not need to master guitar for it to teach me something valuable.

I'm not lazy or lacking in energy I'm just happy to have fun and play songs for myself and my friends and family. I admire people who do decide to master it but that's not a part of my story at this point in life and that's A-OK.

If that's what your journey with painting or drawing looks like try and see the value that has for you. Don't use your time trying to defend something that disregards human creativity as something of the past, something that is built on the backs of real artists by taking work they put their lives into and spitting out a lifeless version of it, something that has caused artists so much fear and doubt...

Instead, put that time into creating, really creating, learning from the ground up like I did with guitar. Teach yourself if you don't have time or money for lessons (I taught myself to paint!), reach out to artists for resources.

My ask box is always open if you want recommendations for resources or even tutorials on how I do things! LMK if you are an absolute beginner and I'll adjust for that.

I would never turn anyone away from rejoining the human art community no matter how staunchly they supported AI.

#ai #ai art #art discourse #art advice #human artist #art

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tojikai · 8 months

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😯 my face the entire chapter. WTF WTF WTF. I got to get my thoughts out so bare with me.

First of all I want to curb stomp Satoru’s mom she’s such a bitch my god. I’ve been disliking Naomi but that was literally disgusting I had to put my phone down for a minute and the fact that she’s still trying to justify her actions 🤢 I also found it so interesting that for both his mom and Naomi they have painted yn as this villain to justify all of their actions like they have to team up to defeat her when she has literally done nothing to either of them.

Now Toji obviously they are going to argue especially with the circumstances of both but yn deserves nothing except kind simple love fr (I have been team toji since day one).

I’ve also liked that Gojo has finally started treating yn like a human and co-parent (not enough he needs to grow a pair and slaughter his mother) just hate that this change has only come about after his love confession. Although I still don’t want gojo and yn together I do want them to have a good co-parent and friend relationship for themselves and yui

NOW YN honestly I’m about to stop with the team toji vs team gojo and just be team yn to give this girl some damn self love. The lack of communication drives me insane literally screaming at my screen for her to just spill her feelings & thoughts out. Also just her lack of self defense she’s SOOO much better than me I’m cussing everybody out like how dare y’all talk about her like that especially with yui right there 🤺🤺. It’s both sad and frustrating even in ch.4 with the confrontation between yn & satorus mom and she said she wanted to have strength even if it was for yui and she still couldn’t do it. I want better for her fuck all the men and just give her & yui (+ gumi) a good life

you have officially become my fav writer making my fav series I do not think I’ve ever made an ask this long (sorry about this <3) because no other fic has made me want to throw hands but still cry like this one has 🤭🤍 still can’t wait to see how this ends! p.s. do you know how many chapters there will be?

chapter 4 is definitely frustrating 😭 just when i was writing it, i wanted yn to fight back🥹 she's not letting satoru's mother take yui of course but the fear in her brought weakness, thats why she just broke down at the thought of losing her child. and communication, ahhh her biggest enemy😭 even when during her satoru's relationship, communication was her issue 🥹 anyways thank u so much for the support, as for the number of chapters, let's just say 8-9 !!

#🍭—kaitalks #f: sundered

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knithappens05 · 1 year

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[Fic] A Dressing Down

I don't do a lot of drawing, but I do write little stories about the AKA kids sometimes! Most of it isn't canon-compliant, just for funsies. This one I wrote after Diarmuid's player talked about him sharing sweaters with Moira on occasion, but it's some ColtxDee content for those jazzed about the Tiktok lore getting dropped. 8]b Enjoy!

I can’t figure out if she does this to be ironic or what.

It really was the stupidest thing he’d ever seen. Fuzzy, off-white, huge pom-pom flowers dropped on the front and sleeves, probably the back too. It looked like something someone would wear after losing a bet. But there Moira was, sitting across from him and chatting happily with Diarmuid about some cute video or something, looking totally unaware of how stupid she looked.

Whatever, it wasn’t like he cared what she wore.

But he did a couple days later when Diarmuid came back to the room late at night in the same stupid sweater. Colt looked up from the frustrating task of shoving all of his unfolded clothes into his dresser drawer and stopped to stare at the perfectly round abjurations dotting the front of that thing. Unmistakable, and Diarmuid was wearing it?

“Where’d you get that?”

“Huh?” It took Diarmuid a minute to figure out Colt meant the sweater, given the total lack of context clues. “Oh! Moira leant it to me. It’s cute!”

More beats passed as Colt processed this.

“Yeah.”

“I need to talk to you.”

Moira barely managed to scoop her homework and textbooks away in time before Colt could put his tray on top of them. She looked a little irritated.

“Hey Colt, yeah sure, have a seat, let me clear this for you.”

It didn’t register. “What’s going on with you and Diarmuid?”

Moira tilted her head and furrowed her brows. “Uh…? Nothing as far as I’m aware? Is he upset?��

“No,” Colt’s turn to look irritated that Moira wasn’t reading his mind.

“Okay, then… I have literally no idea what you’re asking me, then.”

He let out a short, loud sigh, looked away, tapped the table agitatedly, looked back. “Look I don’t care if you’re fucking, okay?”

Whatever theories Moira had been forming about what Colt was actually asking about, this was probably right at the very bottom. “Uhh…” She looked away for help—or verification she wasn’t going crazy. Colt took it as an admission of guilt.

“I don’t. Okay?”

“Colt I’m…” She was still struggling to figure out where to even start with this sudden and mysterious train wreck.

“But people are going to start noticing he’s wearing your shit, okay? So.” He shrugged as nonchalantly as he could, which ended up looking like it could have been a shoulder-check. So stop giving him your sweaters was implied, Colt was pretty certain of that.

Moira’s eyebrows flew up in sudden understanding. “Oh my god, no, Colt, he asked to borrow them! He’s not wearing my clothes because we’re like that, he asked and I said ‘yeah, I can’t wear them all at once, go ahead’!”

Colt softened just a little. “…Hm.”

“Why did you immediately think we were having sex? That’s like zero to sixty in two seconds.”

“I dunno. Boyfriend jeans or whatever.”

Moira looked like she was barely containing her incredulity. Eventually after enough stony silence from Colt and struggled parsing from Moira, she had to set the attempts to navigate Colt’s thought process aside—for her own sanity.

“No, Diarmuid and I are not… swapping clothes because we’re a couple and regularly undressing in front of one another. He saw one of my sweaters when he was over gaming with Achara, asked if he could borrow it, I was happy to let him. That’s it.”

“…I guess that makes sense.”

“You guess? What is with this interrogation? Why are you being so weird about some imagined meaning of borrowed sweaters?”

“Can you make me a sweater?”

For the second time in the span of three minutes, Moira felt like she had whiplash. “Wha--?”

“But like, a cool one. Not with all this shit you usually put on yours. Well, maybe a little of that.” One that Diarmuid might like. “But not a lot. And maybe a little small on me.”

Looking across the table at Moira now, Colt felt a strange but distinct cold front coming in from her direction as she stared back at him with all traces of confusion gone from her expression. She started putting her books in her bag without a word. Colt took this as a sign that he’d somehow fucked up.

“You want money? I could pay for it.”

“Ohh Colt Arvidsson, you couldn’t afford me even if you were still doing whatever the Hellions did.” Moira whipped a teal sharpie and hot pink post-its out of her bag, scribbled something on the top, yanked the note off and slapped it down on the table in front of Colt. “See you in class.”

Colt, frozen and awkward, watched Moira storm off and only chanced a glance at the note when she was totally out of his eyeline:

‘AMAZON.COM’

“Colt?” A light pounding at the door. “Can—can you open the door for me?”

At Diarmuid’s request, Colt quickly bounded across the room in three strides and opened the door to their room. Packages greeted him, Diarmuid somewhere underneath.

“Oh shit, let me help,” he started relieving Diarmuid of the parcels, stacking them in one hand easily.

“Thanks, they’re all for you I think? The people at the mailroom gave them to me to give to you, they said they’ve been there a few days. They’ve been emailing you.”

“I thought they’d just bring them here, isn’t that how mail works?”

“…No, you have to… there’s a mail room and you have to go get packages and mail there. They don’t just bring it to our dorm.”

“Huh.” So that’s what those emails were about.

“What’d you get? I was worried for a sec, but then I realized they were all pretty light.”

Colt started tearing apart the plastic pouches one by one, revealing sweater after sweater in navy, gray, black…

“O-oh…”

“Just thought I’d get some new stuff.”

“Y-yeah sure…”

Well, maybe Colt was turning over a new sartorial leaf. Far be it from Diarmuid to question it.

Just a little weird, for him especially, to get six or seven sweaters in April…

#alpha king academy #fanfiction #fanfic #diarmuid o'ceallaigh #colt arvidsson #moira mercia-ward #colt moves in mysterious ways #big 'can you draw me' energy

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linawritesocs · 1 year

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my ocs (+ ships) as palette names!

here it is!! all titles are from this post AND HONESTLY I LOVE THEM SO MUCH SOME OF THEM SOUND LIKE REALLY COOL CHAPTER TITLES

all palettes were assigned based only on the titles and not the colors! though some palettes (the (name)-core ones) do have my ocs' vibes ndjdkddk

avery: wishing to rant about fanfiction but not wanting to show how much of a nerd you secretely are, you can’t just ask a guy why he’s in love, some days i’m afraid i will cut my eyes by the sight of glass shards (yes i picked this one only bc of his surname jdksksdkl IT DOES HAVE HIS VIBES THOUGH)

vance: only the floor candy can sustain me (vancecore), the act of balancing a bottle of juice on your head, some days i feel like a lobster on a skateboard

merrill: next time maybe don’t go into the forest at night hm buddy? just a thought, you are who we say you are because public opinion beats self worth every time, putting on a show to seem alive / when i don’t feel alive (wow these last two are SAD)

allen: focus on me (ignore the blood), do you remember when you told me that you love me when you told me that you love me when you told me that you, murder and other expressions of love

roland: stand still as the darkness grows roots in your mind, i loved you i did so how did we end up like this, men like us die alone because we think we deserve it (;w;)

fake!jay: hey quick question are we really about to commit arson? (literally his dynamic with allen), the doctor tried to check my heartbeat only to find out i don’t have one (a reminder that he's not really human!), the privilege of being born somebody else (THIS ONE. OH GOD THIS ONE)

real!jay: the lack of self esteem i’ve felt since i learned how to read or write (;w; AGAIN), soda cans are great i love accidentally spilling liquid on myself, when i was a small child i held an iguana once

austin: i’m always at least a little bit scared hopeless and frustrated, a classmate of mine once borrowed one of my pens and then decided it was such a good pen he’s just gonna keep it (austincore), crying because cats are cute and deserve the world

minnie: this is the third time someone put strawberries in the bathtub who keeps doing this please stop (minniecore), the horrifying ordeal of having loud neighbours, unexplainable excruciating pain that started suddenly and will never go away

hayden: an unhealthy relationship with one’s own identity (THIS IS LITERALLY HAYDEN), what flavour is your mind (a reference to him trying to understand other people's personalities more so that it's easier for him to manipulate them), the only thing greater than my ego is my impostor syndrome

riley: i’m a weirdo who likes to eat chalk, have you found yourself or your loved ones suffering from a case of empty eyes, an overemotional state projected upon the unsuspecting public (LITERALLY HIS UNIQUE MAGIC)

angel: this will hurt you more than it’ll hurt me - and that’s okay!, the girl in a blue dress that lives in every village ever (angelcore), the magical princess’s strawberry-scented battle axe of infinite bloodshed

bunny: wasting your life feeling like an underperforming tool in someone else’s hands (her relationship with angel..), the eye lips eye emoji face fills me with unbridled rage, what do you MEAN there was a fire

seth: your house has no anomalies but i’m reporting you for bad taste in art (YEAH THIS DOES SOUND LIKE SETH), you love them now you’ll hate them later (sethcore), i haven’t left the house in months (his backstory 😔)

and now, the oc ships!

avery x allen: what are you doing in my house / now now i don’t usually make it a habit to - stop yelling - break into people’s homes but as you can see sometimes i do, once again i am forced to ask what in the world did you bring into our home / what do you mean what did i bring it’s very clearly a radioactive waste barrel don’t pretend you don’t know that, the tall faceless lad out the corner of my eye who watches me sleep while pointing at the door

vance x riley: the man who looked at me so sweetly in soft flavours of deep beige, wish me luck honey (i couldn’t ask for more), just friends but we kiss sometimes

merrill x cater: can you help me find what’s wrong with me, men like us aren’t supposed to feel these things, it’s past my bedtime and i’m thinking of you (i don't talk a lot about this ship but trust me, i love them SO MUCH)

merrill x austin: of all the things you could be doing why are you romancing soda cans, wish we could go out for coffee but you hate me and i hate coffee, sorry that your rant about how the game i like ruined the whole series forever didn’t make me like it any less

allen x nemis: my girlfriend said i eat corn weird which now that i think about it would explain why i’m consistently covered in butter (listen it does sound like them), look at her go biting everyone who comes near her like a champ, here’s cheers to the man who stole my heart away

allen x hayden: let your tender hands rip me apart, what’s a little murder between friends, i’ve been chugging poison waiting for the day you inevitably take me up on my offer and take a proper bite out of me (THIS ONE. POWERFUL)

minnie x sebek: your love has brought me to the point of no returning, don’t try to tell me how i’m supposed to breathe, people ask me how i manage to think of you everyday and to be completely honest i never know what to say because it feels so natural

hayden x elpys: i need you to understand that i really do want what’s best for you - and that simply isn’t me, you are a dream in a crowd of nightmares, you must have real self confidence mortal to attempt flirting with something all holy

seth x riddle: dunks you in tea LOL, get your shoes off my bed you animal (these ones are chaotic and i love it), he to whom the cake’s dedicated

seth x rollo: i touch you and my hands burn my hands burn my hands burn (what have you done) (yeah it was painful to type this one), give me salvation i swear i won’t bite, well first of all i am positive what you did is a criminal offense / and second of all why didn’t you invite me (hiii i love "seth x rollo as a villain couple" so much <3)

#beauty with self grown thorns: avery #a gamer skater boy: vance #idia's e boy servant: merrill #the ultimate simp: allen #the gardening club leader: roland thorn #the literature and animals lover: jay #the lonely mechanic: austin #the mouse girlboss: minnie #the chameleon with a god complex: hayden #allen's kuudere cousin: riley #a strange but loving dorm leader: angel #a stressed vice dorm leader: bunny #the isolated prince: seth #friends' ocs!

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survivingsusac · 2 years

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The Juncture of Faith, Science and Middle School

This started as a Facebook post but in my typical way I got overly wordy and thought, “Nope, this should be a BLOG post.”

Which lead to me getting my sleep deprived self out of bed at 4:30 in the morning to grab my laptop and write the blog post you are reading now. That and to empty what was a full bladder

So what you may know if you’re a long-time reader is that I fight for my quality of life every day. What my readers may not know is that I also fight for my daughter’s quality of life most days. The irony here is that most people in real life are unaware that I am permanently disabled but know that I am always fighting for my daughter.

This is one of the dangers of relationships. You get whatever perception people present to you based on whatever filters they have up when they interact with you. You guys remember my Filters blog from May 12 of 2021? Well, while that relationship with Ideal Partner may have sadly sunk, the filter principle still floats.

Whatever personality filter you put up in various aspects of your life is going to vastly affect the type of persona you emulate and the perception of you that your audience develops.

NOW that you’ve patently let me establish context, TO the point.

My almost 12-year-old AbventureGirl JUST started middle school this August. So, we are now entering a complicated time for women of both faith and science to be in a science class. This convergence of demographics 100% includes and #AbventureGIrl and I.

AbventureGIrl spent about 30, THIRTY, minutes with me and my mom-my rock-outside her driveway last night ranting her frustrations about the theory of evolution, which her teacher, who we’ll call Febreze, is currently pouring into the students.

I try to explain that what she is experiencing is the frustration of a lack of context. This side of 18 years the public education system I have that DOWN. I begin to explain that in the school systems attempt to teach them valid scientific principles, they are failing to point out how the conceptual information will be useful and needed in future studies in all kinds of other subject areas.

AbventureGirl explained to me the multifaceted ways the evolution material she is being taught is double dumb.

So last night, outside the driveway because everywhere is a classroom, she learns the difference between learning for belief and memorizing to pass the class. AbventureGirl explained she understands the value of this and will de what needs to be done to maintain her straight A’s.

About an hour later at home we discussed AT LENGTH how, while you may not agree that evolution is the way man got to planet Earth, you can learn the value of applying the principles of evolution to how species change over multiple generations.

AbventureGirl loves the show Wild Kratts, which is where her immense knowledge of wild animal facts begins. And for years I have used her interest in Legos as a metaphor for God’s itty building blocks that every creature which replicates is made out of. We talked about how this theory of evolution may not be responsible for creation of man, but it does play a vital role in letting ecosystems figure out the survival of the fittest and who gets to be apex predators and who gets to be the important role of the prey that keeps the ecosystem functioning.

In short, I gave AbventureGirl the context of how multiple generations and predation can lead to a change in the traits a species presents with, which leads to the overall species changing or evolving to the version of the species that you find out living free and in the wild. (that’s a key Wild Kratts phrase).

AbventureGirl is like:

Why can’t Febreze teach me about it the way you do with Legos and predation?! The way you say it makes sense. Why are we supposed to just blindly believe that all of the sudden men went from being chimpanzees to standing up to be able to see predators beyond the nonsense tall grasses that somehow survived a global fire when the trees didn’t? that NOT how fires work.

Told you it was a full-on rant.

In long, I talked with AbventureGirl about how because of predation, the animals who are easily seen and caught in the wild are the ones who get eaten first. There’s her Wild Kratts. So they’re Legos are no longer in the gene pool to get passed on to their babies. There’s our long-standing Lego metaphor A bright blue frog is more likely to be seen in a forest because the forest is typically brown and green. So, Mr. Frog’s predators, birds, are more likely to see that food and nom them up. If they’re nommed they can’t make more bright blue frog eggs, so over generation of frog babies, there will be less and less bright blue forest frogs because they play terrible hide and seek. And more and more of the frogs that have good camouflage will survive because of the principal of survival of the fittest, hence all the green species of forest frogs.

Now, let’s say a momma frog has exceptionally long legs. What do you think happens with her long leg Legos?

AbventureGIrl immediately catches on. Those Legos get passed on to some of her frog babies and eventually the long-legged frogs can jump further, get away from predators, and outlive the short-legged frogs.

While the conversations may take a few hours, which means they span several locations, and multiple metaphors, Abventuregirl is the ideal combination of critical thinker, smart, and patient. She is able to connect the dots to make sense of the information poured into her by Febreze, who is doing a fantastic job in her role as a middle school teacher. Abigail just has other mentors who support her asking questions and having engaging, intelligent, conversations.

She just seems to save them all up for me, instead of asking the Useless Sack of Flesh (ugh)

But here I am, parenting, working, fighting for my life erryday. Ya know,

Surviving Susac,

Aurora

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randomshyperson · 3 years

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Love is Outside the Screen - Part III - Elizabeth Olsen x Reader

Summary: The one where Reader plays Vision in the MCU and she falls in love with her co-worker Elizabeth Olsen.

Warnings: (+18), smut, sexual themes, strap on use, teasing, fingering, sexual suggestions, explicit language, explicit, obscenity, a bit of praise kink, dom/sub dynamics, bottom reader mostly, switch dynamics, power dynamic changes, slight possessive sex, brief angst, alcohol mentions, arguing, jealously, fluffy.

Words: 7.935 K

A/N> Instead of writing my series, I'm continuing works that were finished already. This is basically porn honestly haha No, but jokes aside, we have fluffy moments with a lot of smut. Good reading everyone!

Part One | Part Two | All Works Masterlist || AO3

//-//-/////-///-//

Love is Outside the Screen - Part III

Northern Ireland, two years ago.

You slipped under the long wooden table as the script indicated.

Your character was supposed to give a slight nod, and then gasp because of the torso injury, and you followed the script perfectly.

When the director yells cut, you stand up, trying not to bump into the makeover they did on your clothes.

"That was great, guys!" Shouted Alex Graves in the direction of the cast scattered around the medieval set. "Let's call it a day."

You were exhausted.

The Game of Thrones footage was absolutely grueling, and time-consuming, although it allowed you to learn something new with almost every scene.

Walking back toward the dressing room to clean up your makeup, you smiled shyly at the girls in the salon who congratulated you on the day's performance while helping you to remove your costume.

While they were going through your hair, you decided to check your cell phone.

There were two missed calls from Lizzie, and you felt your heart swell with guilt immediately.

She had also sent you messages asking if everything was okay, or if you were busy, and saying that she missed you, and you wish you had answered them all, but your routine had been completely absurd.

You felt your chest ache with longing every time you thought of your girlfriend.

When you signed the contract, you knew the conditions, and so did Lizzie. But nothing prepared you for the real thing.

Almost three months without a decent conversation, not even video calls, and the lack of her in your life was making you frustrated and irritated all the time. You were sinking into the screenplay and the recordings, because you simply hated not having Lizzie in your day-to-day life.

"Thank you girls." You said as soon as you noticed the makeup completely removed from your abdomen.

The change in the script killed your character sooner than expected, and you should go home early, even though it was going to take two or three months, it was much less than originally planned.

Grumbling softly, you went back to the dressing room, deciding to call Lizzie now that you would have a little time alone.

She doesn't answer until the second-to-last ring.

"Yes?" Her husky voice signals that she was asleep, but all you can feel is your body shaking at the sound.

"It's me, baby." You reply tenderly as you sit back in the armchair, pressing the cell phone to your ear as if you wish you could reach into the device and touch your girl.

"Oh, hey." She comments sleepily, and you wonder if she has closed her eyes again, or even opened them. "It's late."

"I know, I'm sorry." You say leaning back in the armchair. "I wanted to check that everything was okay because I couldn't answer you earlier."

"Don't worry, darling." She says softly, almost sleepily. "I just missed you."

"Me too, my love." You assure her, feeling your chest tighten slightly. My god, you just want to see her, hold her, touch her. "Lizzie, darling, are you asleep?"

"Yes." She whispers, making you smile.

"I love you baby." You say. "Call me when you wake up, I will interrupt as many scenes as it takes to talk to you."

"Behave yourself in the studio, love." She mumbles sleepily, and you laugh lightly. It was the same warning she gave on your last day in California, on the way out of the airport. "I love you. And I miss you."

You cursed the entire movie company at once when you could perceive the upset in Lizzie's tone, even in her sleepy state. You repeated that you loved her one more time before hanging up the phone.

As you put your cell phone away to grab your keys and head back to the hotel, you wondered if a breach of contract was really so bad.

//-//

Present, California.

You felt Lizzie's arms wrap around you as soon as you made mention of getting out of bed. You smiled, turning your body to look at her.

Her sleeping figure with her eyes closed, her hair slightly tousled made your heart warm with affection.

You loved her so much.

Raising your hand to her face, you stroked her cheek gently with your thumb, and watched the woman sigh softly, and even in her sleepy state, lean into your touch.

"Lizzie." You called softly, trying to wake her up. And did so again until she mumbled softly, leaning her face against the pillow. You let your hand wander to her hair, enjoying the softness as you stroked her scalp with your fingers. "We need to wake up baby."

Lizzie just mumbled again against the pillow cotton, making you smile at the cuteness of that scene.

You moved closer only to deposit short kisses across her face, and only stopped when she let out a husky giggle.

"Good morning, love." You whispered against her ear, and were about to pull away, but she tightened her arms around your waist, keeping you almost on top of her, making you smile.

"Good morning." She sighed back against the skin of your neck, and you blushed slightly when you felt her inhale your perfume and then tighten her fingers around your waist. "Fuck, I love you."

You laughed softly at her sudden, hoarse confession, but let your arms slip around her shoulders, burying your body against Lizzie's. The tenderness was wonderful, and she moved one hand up to caress your back while the other remained on your hip, her thumb moving across the skin beneath your blouse.

You tilt your face away just to look at her, and already you find her with her eyes wide open, a shy smile on her lips.

"I love you too, babe, but we need to get up." You tell her, and you almost get the impression that she's not even listening, because all she does is look at your face with adoration.

You bite back a smile as you feel her legs move beneath you, her bare foot caressing your ankle before she spins you around quickly and stands over you, the sudden movement making you sigh and tighten your arms intertwined around her neck.

"Lizzie!" You exclaim humorously, but all you get is a low murmur as she sinks her body against yours and buries her face in your neck.

"How much time do we have?" She asks against your skin, her lips dangling on that sensitive part of your collarbone and sending a shiver up the length of your spine.

"Enough." You reply already affected by her touch, closing your eyes to enjoy the sensation.

Lizzie smiles against your neck, beginning to deposit chaste kisses against your skin, making you sigh softly.

It didn't matter how many times you had been together or for how long, your body reacted to her in the same way. You only hoped that you wouldn't be late for your appointment with the Marvel directors, but when Lizzie slipped her hand up into your pajamas, you didn't care about that anymore.

//-//-//

London, 1 year and 9 months ago.

It's your third time on "The Graham Norton Show."

You finished taping Game of Thrones the day before, and this was your last appointment before returning to California. To Lizzie.

Part of the cast is sitting next to you, and you are glad for that because you are distracted this evening and can use the time they answer questions to think about your girlfriend. And you miss her for sure.

Graham, the host, asked questions about the final season, and about day to day life on set, and after Kit Harington and Emilia Clarke commented on everything being amazing, and not telling anything about the plot since they weren't allowed to, you were slightly surprised that the subject shift went directly to the romance rumors between the cast.

"I hear that some of you have been becoming close friends outside the set." Graham begins with a chuckle, and you and the cast share a chorus of dissatisfaction that makes the audience laugh. "Which is normal in a long series of course. But we wanted to bring that in because we love gossip."

"Since I'm married, can I have a drink in the dressing room?" Kit jokes, drawing laughter from everyone.

"You're supposed to help us with the arguments". Graham replies humorously. He leans back in his chair slightly to point to the monitor behind him. "We have some behind-the-scenes photos here. And Miss Clarke looks very comfortable."

The audience laughed at the comment, and you tried to cover it up with an awkward laugh. It was a picture of Emilia Clarke, your colleague who plays Daenerys Targaryen, on your lap. But the moment was badly misinterpreted. The photo was taken right after one of the prom rehearsal scenes, and Emilia had gotten one of the coordinations wrong, and you laughed when she fell on you.

Of course, this kind of insinuation was happening because to the media, you two were two single women. And you were used to this kind of questioning, but still, it was always uncomfortable.

"We were dancing, Graham." Emilia argues humorously. "It's not what it looks like."

The audience lets out a chorus of disappointment, and you and Emilia giggle awkwardly.

"Was that the mating dance, ladies?" Graham teases and you want to dig a hole in the ground, but all you do is keep up with everyone's laughter. "Despite all the jokes, I think Marvel's couple is going to be threatened."

The comment makes your heart race, but the audience is very approving, applauding heartily.

At least with this you can talk about Elizabeth.

"Is tonight the night you are going to take over America's dream relationship or can we just keep saying that you and Emilia are together, since there is not the slightest chance that someone that attractive is single." Graham tells you with humor making the audience and cast laugh. You try to keep up, not wanting to seem rude. You wish you could tell him that there is nothing wrong with being single, but you don't think you want to create an awkwardness so you just settle back in your seat as you joke:

"Unfortunately I will deny it again, Graham" You reply. "And I'm not dating Emilia either, I assure you."

You spend the rest of the evening dodging the comments, and are exhausted by the time the interview is over.

"Hey, are you going back to the hotel already?" Kit asks you just as you walk back to the dressing rooms, and you deny it with your head.

"No chance, I'm leaving." You reply. "I'm going straight to the airport, I have a flight in two hours. What about you, Harington? Aren't you going home to see your wife?"

"I didn't know we were talking about wives." He jokes making you blush and look away. Kit didn't know about Lizzie, but he knew you had someone. "Of course I want to come home, but I still have some appointments here. And Rose is in Spain."

"That sucks, man." You comment and he murmurs in agreement, shrugging.

"Yeah, but longing sure makes the sex better." He retorts with amusement and you grimace before laughing.

"You're unbelievable." You joke before waving yourself off in farewell, turning in the direction of your dressing room.

As soon as you enter, you take your cell phone out of your pocket and try to call Lizzie, but it goes to voicemail. You leave a message saying that you can't wait to see her and get your things ready to leave.

After saying goodbye to the cast again, and taking a taxi to the airport, you receive a message, but it is not from Lizzie.

*Sara evil agent* sent you an attachment.

You frown at the matter. "Off-screen romance? Would GOT star Emilia Clarke be dating queer Marvel protégé?"

You call Sara the same minute.

"I literally said I wasn't dating her!" You complain as soon as she answers and hear Sara laugh on the other end.

"Oh, honey, I told you, the media loves a little gossip." She says. "And you need to stop setting up fake girlfriends so quickly, I can barely keep up."

You grumble in irritation and your agent lets out a giggle.

"Don't be so grumpy, it's just a rumor and the last time I checked you were a single woman so I don't see a problem." She says and you bite the inside of your cheek. Since your lack of excitement about GOT, Sara suspects something. Neither of you says anything, but you know she's not an idiot and figures you have a girlfriend. "Are you going back to LA already?"

"Yes, I'm catching my flight in an hour."

"I hope you're ready to record, Lady Vision." She jokes. "Your scene schedule is getting closer."

"I plan to rest this week." You warn, slightly distracted. "Game of Thrones really was something different."

"I just hope people like the ending."

You giggle and Sara wants to know why, but you don't give her any spoilers. After asking if everything was okay, and assuring her that you had eaten something before the interview, you hang up.

Lizzie didn't text you back and you fell asleep on the plane.

//-//-//-//-//

California, three years and eleven months ago.

Your heart was beating so fast that you could hear it in your ears.

But Lizzie's hand in yours was doing a good job of calming you down.

Maybe it was just because you had waited, or maybe it was because you were so much in love, but you don't remember feeling so nervous about the idea of having sex with someone. Not since your first time.

And well, now with Lizzie, it was actually only the first time you two were going to sleep together. You didn't have to be nervous, but you were.

Liz opened the bedroom door as soon as you two reached the room, and dragged you inside with her. You closed the wood as you entered.

The tension was palpable in the air, and you wondered if you stayed still long enough, she might hear your heartbeat.

You looked at her, your eyes locked on each other, and a shy smile on your lips as you approached, stopping inches from her body.

Lizzie holds her breath.

"Are you nervous?" You ask in a husky voice, raising your free hand to go around the length of her arm with your finger, admiring the way her skin shivers at your touch.

She just shakes her head and you smile, resting your hand on her cheek.

"It's just me." You comment as you lean your forehead against hers, and you both close your eyes in anticipation. "We can stop if you're not sure..."

"I'm sure." She interrupts half breathlessly, her hand tightening its grip before letting go of yours, so that she brings both hands to the sides of your neck. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." You assure before breaking the distance, bringing your mouths together in a firm kiss that draws a sigh from both of you as your hands move up to Lizzie's waist.

It doesn't take long for the kiss to deepen, your tongues fighting together and the sensation making your head spin and your body heat up.

Lizzie gasped against your mouth before parting for breath, and you used the opportunity to let your fingers run down to the hem of her shirt as you pulled it up. In motion the piece was off, and she copied the same to remove your blouse.

You bit your lip as you looked at the sight of Lizzie's exposed torso in front of you, her nipples hardening in the air making you feel the tightness beneath your stomach increase.

You lunged forward, grabbing her left breast with your mouth, and Lizzie let out a loud noise in her throat, throwing her head back as your tongue skirted her left nipple.

She was so hot and smelled so good, and the sounds she was making were driving you insane.

You moved your hands up to her breasts as soon as you brought your mouths together again, your tongue circling hers as you played with her hardened nipples, and it wasn't long before Lizzie began to whimper, closing her legs and thrusting her hips towards yours for more friction.

You smiled against her lips, you would give her exactly what she needed.

//-//

California, one year and nine months ago.

Leaving your keys on the counter, you were surprised by the silence as you entered.

It wasn't that you wanted Lizzie to stay late to wait for you, except that it was exactly what you wanted.

You left your bag on the living room floor and called her name twice before assuming she was asleep.

Sighing slightly, you went up the stairs to your room, but it was empty. All the other rooms were empty, which made you frown.

Okay, you didn't expect Elizabeth not to be home just the day you were returning, after months of not seeing each other.

But you didn't have much time to think about what might have happened, because a clearly drunk Lizzie stumbled into the house, fighting against the lock and her own balance just as you were coming down the stairs.

"You're drunk?" You ask in a voice in a mixed tone of disbelief and concern upon seeing her, and Lizzie is startled for a moment before giggling.

"Look who's here, California!" She announced to the room with irony and with open arms, stumbling inside. "Hollywood's most eligible bachelorette, watch out ladies and gentlemen."

You frowned at the little scene, Lizzie walked with difficulty to the kitchen as you finished going down the steps, she murmured quietly and you with your arms crossed, trying to understand exactly what was going on.

"What happened to you?" you ask as you follow her across the room, Lizzie takes off her shoes with difficulty, almost falling to the floor at least twice. When you make mention of helping her, she holds up her hand for you not to, and you are starting to get worried.

"I went to have fun." She replies with a humorless laugh. "I can have fun."

"Of course you can." You retorted with a raised eyebrow, watching Lizzie take a deep breath and close her eyes as she leaned her back on the countertop, probably getting a headache from the way she buried her face in both hands for a moment. "Who did you go with?"

"I don't know, Mom." She sneered wryly, and you clenched your jaw. Lizzie laughed at your expression, and pouted. "Oh, did I upset you? Sorry, darling, I'll try to be a good girl for you."

You shook your head slightly.

"Babe, what is happ..."

"Don't call me that." She cuts off quickly and you look at her in surprise. Lizzie closes her eyes and takes a deep breath and when she looks at you again, she has thick tears in her eyes and you feel your heart soar. "I saw the pictures on television, Y/N. I saw the pictures, I saw your interview, I saw the videos on instagram. And I guess I understand, because she's beautiful and we haven't seen each other in months but I thought you loved me..."

"wow, what are you talking about?" You interrupt, confused and frightened, and Lizzie looks like a complete mess. She is crying and you reach up to touch her face, and try to calm her down. "Babe, breathe, I don't understand."

She whimpers softly, and you wonder how much booze she really has consumed.

"You are going out with that woman and I love you and everything is horrible." She declares in a whiny voice and you look at her with a frown.

"Lizzie, what..."

But she pushes you and walks off toward the bedroom, and you try to keep her from falling over drinking at least three times until she can get up the stairs properly.

"Lizzie, wait, talk to me." You beg but she keeps walking and you enter the bedroom a moment after her, watching her walk to the closet and start throwing all her clothes out while mumbling about cheating.

You take a deep breath with your hands on your waist, letting out a humorless laugh. It was an absurd scene to say the least.

"Elizabeth Olsen, stop this immediately!" You command as soon as she steps out of the closet, and she widens her eyes slightly as she shifts the weight of her feet before veering to the floor. You sigh as you walk toward her. "Babe, look at me."

"No."

"Lizzie."

Reluctantly, she does so. You soften your expression, feeling your heart soar at the image of her face, longing invading your whole heart.

"God, I missed you." You confess half breathlessly and Lizzie looks on the verge of tears. "Darling, where did all this come from? I'm not seeing any other girl."

"I saw the pictures..."

"Lizzie." You interrupt seriously, shaking your head slightly as your hands land on her shoulders. "I have no one but you. I would never cheat on you, I don't know where that came from. I wish you hadn't drunk so much so we could have a serious talk."

Lizzie gives a mischievous little smile, her gaze half lost because of the alcohol.

"I'm not drunk." She mumbles clearly intoxicated, making you chuckle slightly.

"Of course not." You said as you pushed the loose strands of her hair behind her ears. "You made a mess in the bedroom, babe. Why don't you try to sleep while I clean up?"

Lizzie sighed, clearly tired but shaking her head in denial

"I don't want to sleep." She said as she brought her body closer to you, her hands squeezing your shirt. "I want you to fuck me."

You bit back a smile, looking at Lizzie with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh, yeah?"

She murmured in agreement, her fingers trying to open the buttons of your shirt, but she was clearly in no condition to do so.

"I'd like that too, but you're drunk." You say as you move your hands to hold hers, smiling at the grumble of frustration she lets out. "Go lie down, I'll get some water."

"But..."

"Bed, Lizzie." You ordered again as you intertwined your hands to lead her to lie down.

She was reluctant a few times but eventually agreed and lay her down on the mattress, placing the comforter on top.

When you made mention of getting up, she held your hand.

"Don't go." She asked softly with her eyes almost closed. You smiled.

"Aren't you thirsty?"

Lizzie denied and pulled your hand, you moved closer to lie beside her and she wasted no time in entwining her body in yours.

You let your fingers run through her hair and she sighed lightly, not taking long to fall asleep. You waited a few more minutes before moving, getting out of bed as gently as possible so as not to wake her.

After collecting the clothes Lizzie had thrown across the room and putting them away in the closet, as well as putting the party clothes she was wearing in the wash, you went back downstairs, looking for your bag to take to your room.

Your cell phone vibrated as you walked up the stairs.

It was a message from Scarlet, and you laughed lightly as you read its content.

“I heard you're coming home today, right? Lizzie was really upset about the rumors that you were dating, and asked me to take her out for a drink. I dropped her off at home, but she was pretty shaky. I didn't know you two had a thing, can we talk about it over coffee tomorrow?”

You were relieved that Scarlett was the person accompanying Lizzie, but now she knew you two had something. You were tired of it honestly. The secret. All you wanted was for everyone to know how much you loved Lizzie. And judging from recent events, that was a problem for her too. Or at least it was enough for her to drink more than she should.

But you would have to wait until Lizzie woke up to have this conversation, so you went back to your room, and after putting away the clothes from your bag, you took a shower and put on your pajamas, wasting no time in joining Lizzie in bed again.

//-//-//

Caribbean, one year and six months ago.

Following the music, you continued to dance slowly, your hand around Lizzie's waist while the other was entwined in the air with hers.

The luxury hotel where you were staying that week was hosting a Hawaiian themed evening, and well, after spending the day in the pool area, you decided to dance a little.

In that moment, with Lizzie in your arms, you were at peace completely. Moments like these, like waking up with her in your bed, or cooking together, or rehearsing your lines while curled up on the couch under the blanket were more than enough to make you sure that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with Lizzie.

You smiled before pulling your body away slightly, just to look at her. And she looked back at you with the same adoration, her cheeks flushing slightly.

You spun her into your arms then, making her laugh as you pulled her back, your hands resting on her neck as your hips swayed to the rhythm of the ukulele of the band playing on the stage.

There were a few other couples around, but you could hardly notice anyone but Lizzie.

You continued dancing, and you rested your forehead on hers, closing your eyes and breathing in her perfume. Lizzie smiled, stealing a quick kiss before resting her chin on your shoulder, following the rhythm of the dance.

When the show ends, you follow the crowd in the clapping for a moment before Lizzie entwines your hands and pulls you toward the bar.

"That was fun." She comments with cheeks flushed from the dance, her smile soft as you stand near each other, your hands intertwined as you reach for the menu.

"Dancing with you always is." You retorted charmingly, releasing her hand only to fit it against your waist, drawing a chuckle from Lizzie.

You ended up sharing some drinks and snacks, and you were starting to feel higher with each sip.

Lizzie was in the middle of a joke when you interrupted her.

"Marry me?"

She blinked in surprise, a confused chuckle escaping her lips.

"What?"

Maybe it was the drinking. Probably not, because with the emerald eyes looking so intently, you suddenly felt very sober. Your heart raced too, but you were never more sure of anything than you were now.

"Marry me." You repeat with a confident smile. Lizzie blushes with wide eyes.

"You... Are you serious?" She asks in surprise, and you let out a sigh, moving closer to take her hands and put them down on your racing heart.

"I love you." You tell her with nothing but sincerity. "I want to spend my life with you. I was planning something bigger, perhaps, at your parents' summer house. I would get down on one knee in front of your family and hand over the ring I've been carrying for three months." You confess and watch her look at you in shock. "I've been waiting for the right moment, Lizzie. But I've just realized that every second with you is the right moment. I want you to be my wife. Do you want me to be yours?"

It took a second for her to react, her expression changing from shock to pure happiness, the tears appearing in her eyes and the smile so big it made her eyes small.

"Yes, yes, of course." She replied between one shy laugh and another, moving forward to kiss you over and over again.

You couldn't stop smiling as you kissed her, and you giggled against each other's mouths, pulling apart to embrace each other.

It didn't take long for the people around the bar to notice and start clapping, but you didn't care.

All you were seeing was your future wife.

//-//-//-//

California, 1 year and 9 months ago.

You finished putting the coffee jug on the tray, the last missing item, before carrying it to your room, taking careful steps not to trip over anything on the way.

Lizzie was already awake, but still in bed. The glass of water in her hands and the missing pill on her bedside table indicated that she was already treating her hangover.

"Good morning, darling." You greeted as you entered, walking over to the bed to leave the platter on top of the sheet next to Lizzie.

"You're home." She commented in a mixture of surprise and embarrassment, you just made a noise with your mouth as she sighed, running her hand over her face, probably because of her headache. "When did you get home?"

"Last night." You respond by watching her. "Just before you."

"Sorry." She says moving closer. You gently pull away from her attempt to kiss her lips, and Lizzie frowns. "What?"

"I was worried." You state seriously. Lizzie lets out a sigh, leaning her back against the bed completely. "I thought you were going to pick me up at the airport, but you didn't call. And then I find the house empty. Until you arrived, completely drunk at dawn."

Lizzie crossed her arms, looking away. It was your turn to sigh.

"What's happening, Elizabeth?"

"It 's nothing."

"Elizabeth."

"Stop it." She asks impatiently, turning her face to you again. "Don't call me that."

You just frown in confusion. "It's your name."

"No." She exclaims annoyedly, closing her eyes for a moment. "You only call me Elizabeth when you're angry. And you can't be angry at me because I have the right to go out!"

You watch her stand up, as if running away from the conversation, and you sigh impatiently, massaging your temple with your finger. Lizzie begins to remove her dress, clearly intent on going to take a shower.

"I never said you had no right to go out, Elizabeth." You retort ignoring the annoyed grunt she lets out at you continuing to call her by her full name. "I just think I have the right to ask why after we agreed on something, you changed plans at the last minute and decided to disappear."

"It's funny that you want to demand something from me when you've spent the last few months without giving me any satisfaction of where or who you were with!" She accuses angrily and you grimace in indignation.

"Oh, so it's about my work?" You retort angrily. "The last time I checked we had decided that I was going to record and come home. You said you were fine with that!"

Lizzie gave a humorless laugh, her dress falling to her feet as she worked to remove her bra.

"Well, you know what, I wasn't!" She shouts angrily, throwing the bra angrily into the closet. You need to remember that you are angry with her as you have the vision of her breasts exposed in front of you while she is yelling at you. "I didn't agree to the endless get-togethers with all those sluts around you! And I sure didn't agree with your flushed face on television flirting with Emilia Clarke in front of the whole country!"

You stared at Lizzie in shock, but she just grunted in irritation before turning to go to the bathroom.

"No, I think it's so funny you bring that up, you know, Elizabeth." You spoke aloud as you stood up to follow her. "Because when I said Aubrey Plaza was flirting with you, you told me it was just business. But suddenly, Emilia is something that bothers you!"

"God, this is so different from Aubrey!" she retorts in irritation, finally naked, before stepping into the shower. You were beginning to find it hard to remember why you were fighting now that you had the view of her wet silhouette in the shower stall, as she raised her voice to be heard beyond the sound of the water. "We were supposed to be flirting in the interviews, it was all for the movie. You were just falling all over Emilia for no reason. All those smiles and giggles." She declares angrily, making you bite back a smile. Lizzie naked, angry and jealous was hot as hell.

"I really can't believe we are having this conversation." You complain as you unbutton your pajama shirt. "The most absurd part of it all is you thinking I would have anything with anyone else."

"You say these things but don't live up to them with your actions." She retorts, annoyed. "I wouldn't think anything of it if you didn't flirt with other people!"

"I didn't flirt with anyone!" You return defensively, your blouse finally coming off. Lizzie's annoyed expression almost falters, but she keeps her gaze above your breasts as you take off your pants. "And honestly, none of this would be happening if everyone knew we were dating!"

Lizzie frowns, her anger finally dissipating with your sentence. You step into the shower stall with her, and she looks at you dubiously.

"You...you want to go public?" She asks, studying you as the water falls on her back. You swallow dryly, keeping yourself in front of her.

"Only if you want to."

Lizzie holds out her hand for you to take, and when you do, she pulls you gently until your breasts are almost touching.

"Do you think we're ready for that?" She whispers as your foreheads lean against each other. You sigh as you rest your hands on her waist.

"With you, I'm ready for anything, Lizzie."

She sighs against your lips, her hands moving up to your neck.

"I can't think about that with you naked in front of me." She mumbles before moving forward against his lips.

Kissing shouldn't feel this good.

You slide your tongue over hers a moment later, and you both sigh in need, feeling the effects of so much time apart. Your hands move down to her ass, squeezing the flesh and forcing her against you, and the direct contact of exposed skin makes Lizzie whimper.

You press her against the glass of the shower stall, feeling the shower water against your back as you hold your mouths together in a passionate, hungry kiss.

When air was needed, you ran your kisses down your girlfriend's exposed collarbone, enjoying the way she sighed in anticipation, her hand moving up to the back of your neck to encourage you.

"God, I missed you." You sighed before sucking on the sensitive spot on her collarbone, making Lizzie whimper as she dug her nails into your shoulder.

She pulled your face back to hers, kissing you urgently, and you pressed your body against hers, your hands moving down to her thighs and up so that she entwined her legs around your waist.

The contact of your exposed intimates together made you both gasp in the kiss, but you slid your tongue against hers again, savoring her taste as your hands moved up to her breasts, squeezing and cupping them with a full palm, your fingers playing with her hardened nipples and making Lizzie sigh wetly.

"What is it baby?" you teased when she was unable to keep up the pace of the kiss, throwing her head back as she felt your hands pressing her breasts hard, and Lizzie grunted as she bit her lips to keep from moaning, looking up at you with dark eyes, clearly struggling to keep her expression impassive. You smiled, pressing your hips forward and watching her close her eyes tightly, unable to contain a low moan that escaped her throat. "I want to hear you, baby."

"I'm still mad at you." She declares in an affected voice, and you murmur in understanding, lowering your face to her collarbone, and licking and kissing the skin, making her shiver.

"Is this angry sex, then?" You sneer as you move your hips forward again, the sensation bringing a rising wave of pleasure to both of you. "It doesn't seem like it."

Lizzie sighs impatiently, and puts her legs on the floor, pushing you away by your shoulder.

You are so stunned by the sudden break in contact that you barely have time to absorb her turning off the shower before she pulls you by the hand out of the stall.

You were about to ask what she was going to do, but she pushed you onto the bed, and disappeared into the closet.

"Lizzie?" You called out uncertainty, preparing your apology speech for what exactly you couldn't say. But she walked out next, and the sight made your mouth go dry. "Damn."

Elizabeth was wearing a strap-on, the rubber penis already fitted in the front and ready for use. And from the determined expression on her face, she was more than willing to prove to you that she was pissed.

"Fuck me." You breathed aroused by the view, and Lizzie gave a wry chuckle as she approached the bed.

"Oh, I will." It was her only warning before she broke the distance, kissing you fervently, her tongue exploring your mouth and pulling the air from your lungs, making you see stars.

You let out a low moan, moving your hands up to her waist to pull her to you, but Lizzie pushed your hands away, breaking the kiss and moving one hand up to your neck, squeezing lightly as she made you look at her.

"Knees, ass up." She commanded in a husky voice, her gaze glittering with lust, you bit your lips to keep from moaning again, feeling your pussy pulsate with desire as you obeyed, turning on the bed quickly as Lizzie positioned herself behind you. "I'll teach you not to flirt with other girls."

"I was n-fuck." Your speech turned into an horsy whimper as she suddenly penetrated you with the dildo, you were so wet that she had no problem at all, the toy slipping into your folds with ease, filling you completely. Lizzie chuckled breathlessly, her hands steadying your hips.

"God, you're so hot." She murmured, moving slowly inside you, the action making you clench your fists in the sheets and arch your back, your pussy clenching against the dildo.

"Fuck, Lizzie."

She thrust again, this time hard, her hands squeezing your hips as she went deep inside, making you moan loudly.

Before establishing a rhythm, she leaned against you, her hand coming up to your hair and pulling you back as she brought her mouth to your ear.

"You are mine." She whispered before she thrust hard inside you, making you moan. "Do you understand?"

"Not quite yet, try harder." You teased breathlessly, the pleasure at having the dildo all the way inside you making you half dizzy. Lizzie grunted angrily, this time stroking even harder, making you see stars as you whimpered, your body beginning to tremble.

"Quit being a brat or I'm going to fucking stop." She warned against your ear, thrusting more slowly this time, and you moaned breathlessly, barely able to keep your eyes open.

Lizzie set a slow pace, but thrusting hard as you moaned and whimpered, every time the dildo entered you making you even wetter and aroused, to the point that you were unable to hold back the loud moans, and she giggled.

"Look at you, a horny, begging mess." She sneered against your ear. "You are mine, and only mine."

She whispered, her strokes deep inside you. "I want you to remember that when you flirt with other girls. How good I make you feel."

You whimpered, your pussy clenching against the dildo for more, Lizzie keeping the strokes torturously slow. Seeing your state, she laughed softly, pulling out of you completely.

Before you had time to complain, she turned you over on the bed, spreading your legs as she bent down, thrusting deep inside you. Your moan died against her lips as she kissed you hard, laying against you as she buried the dildo inside you.

You could feel Lizzie everywhere. Her breasts against you, her lips on yours, and it was too much. She thrust hard again, deep and fast as you had your legs around her waist, and her tongue on yours, and you began to tremble in spasms, pleasure spreading throughout your body.

Lizzie smiled against your lips as you lost the ability to respond to the kiss, moaning and whimpering at the closeness of your climax. Her mouth moved down to your neck as she kept up the pace of the thrusts inside you, and your hands tightened around her waist, pulling on her hips for more friction.

It wasn't long before you fell over the edge, the tightness under your belly exploding, the pleasure spreading to the tips of your feet as you moaned against Lizzie's ear, crumbling under her.

As you tried to normalize your breathing after such an intense orgasm, she straightened to look at you, her eyes had adoration in them.

"You did so good." She praised against your lips. "Did you learn your lesson?"

"I did." You replied in a husky voice, taking a deep breath to control the effects of climax.

In one swift motion, you spun you two around on the bed, sighing as you felt the toy move inside you.

"Now you will learn to honor your appointments, Miss Olsen." You warned as your hands moved down to the latches of the strap, removing it as Lizzie bit her lips, looking at you with a mischievous gaze.

You shifted to remove the strap and toss the toy on the floor, returning to sit on Lizzie's lap, your mouth returning to hers immediately.

When she began to move beneath you, you smiled against her lips, pulling away as you rested your forehead against hers and let your fingers play with her wet entrance.

"Use your mouth." She asked breathlessly, her nails digging into your arm.

"My baby wants my mouth?" You teased, moving forward to lick her lips and pulling away with a short laugh when she moaned as she chased your mouth unsuccessfully. You circled her clitoris with your fingers, and Lizzie gasped. "The next time you want to get drunk, at least text me, my love." You warned as you penetrated her with two fingers at once, feeling her hot and slippery, while Lizzie moaned loudly against your mouth. "Do you understand?"

You removed your fingers, playing with her entrance until she nodded frantically, pushing her hips toward your hand. But you laughed lightly, pulling your hand away completely, and leaving her with a confused expression.

"I thought you wanted my mouth." You scoff, already ducking, as Lizzie looks at you expectantly.

"God, you always fuck me so good." Lizzie comments as you kiss her thighs, moving down. You smile against her skin, finally reaching her pussy.

You stare at her before moving forward, your tongue against her clitoris as she sighs with need.

"Don't torture me." She begs breathlessly, her wrists locked on the bed, you smile, lingeringly licking her, and she closes her eyes tightly.

"I won't, my love." You assure her before returning your mouth to her pussy, kissing her entrance before you begin to suck and lick, devouring her with desire.

She moans loudly, letting out affected sighs with each movement of your tongue inside her, and you hold her thighs to keep her open for you as you eat her out.

It doesn't take long for Lizzie to reach her edge, already near the limit from fucking you, but it's still delicious to have her crumbling against your mouth like a weeping mess, her orgasm on your tongue as she screams your name.

You climb your body back up onto her, and kiss her tenderly, unlike anything so far.

Lizzie is trying to control her breathing from the climax, but sighs in satisfaction as she tastes herself on your tongue.

As silence falls over you, you sigh lightly, your hands caressing her face.

"Are we okay, Lizzie?" You ask as you settle down to lie across from each other. She leans into the touch of your hands, as her hands come up to your waist.

"I don't know." She confesses. "But I want us to be."

You smile, using your finger to take a strand of hair from her face and tuck it behind her ear.

"Do you think going public will make us better?"

"I don't want to love you in secret anymore." She says and you feel your heart soar. "Do you understand?"

You smile. "Yes, babe. I feel the same way."

She gives a relieved smile, her gaze passionate. You break the distance, and kiss her gently.

When you break the kiss a moment later, you look quickly at your bodies. "I think we should have this conversation with clothes on." You comment and Lizzie giggles.

"Later. Now I show how much I missed you in my bed." She says before bringing your lips together again.

You certainly wouldn't object to that.

//-//-//

Atlanta, three years ago.

You hesitated at the entrance to the restaurant.

Through the window you could see Lizzie, and all your cast mates, as it was the closing celebration of the WandaVision filming.

You swallowed hard, the object in your pocket suddenly becoming too heavy.

You startled slightly when you felt a hand on your shoulder.

"I guess we're both late, huh?" Kathryn Hahn, your cast mate, remarked gently, putting her car keys away in her pocket clearly having arrived right with you.

You gave her a lopsided smile and she noticed your hesitation, assuming a worried expression.

"Everything okay?" She asked.

You shifted your gaze to the window again, watching Lizzie giggle shyly, her gaze shining slightly. She looked around too, searching, and you knew it was for you.

"Yeah, I just...I was just having a moment of doubt." You say still looking at Lizzie. Kathryn followed your gaze, and smiled, but didn't comment on it.

You sighed, reaching into your pocket and pulling out the object.

"Wow, are you going to...?" Kathryn asked in surprise but you gave a humorless laugh.

"No, I couldn't." You say swallowing dryly, and looking away from the velvet box. "I don't know if I'm ready."

"And when either of us are?" Kat returned, making you smile.

"How did you know you were going to say yes to your husband?" You asked next. Kathryn sighed thoughtfully.

"I didn't." She replied. "There's no way to know until you get asked. But what I did know was that I loved him. And that's what really matters."

You absorbed her words in silence, and then put the box back in your pocket.

"I think she loves me." You say. "That will be enough until I find the right moment."

Kat murmurs in understanding, and then pushes her shoulder against yours lightly.

"Just don't wait too long." She warns with a smile, nodding her head signaling for the two of you to enter the restaurant and join the rest of the team.

When you enter, any thoughts of Lizzie denying your marriage proposal are driven out by the image of her contented smile when she sees you arrive.

//-//-//-//

A/F/N> I'm not even gonna try to say this is the last time i'm continuing this work because at this point, I just know I don't believe my own words anymore haha. Tell me what you think people.

Tag> @imapotatao / @aimezvousbrahms/ @ensorcellme/ @helloalycia || @mionemymind / @abimess / @stephanieromanoff / @yourtaletotell / @tomy5girls / @justagaypanicking / @thegayw1tch / @idek-5 // @myperfectlovepoem // @helloalycia // @ENSORCELLME // @AIMEZVOUSBRAHMS // @drpepperobsessed // @sighsam // @olsensnpm // @sxfwap // @table57 // @madamevirgo // @causeitswhatjesuswouldfreakingdo // @emptysince18x // @xastrydx || @yuhloversxx || @ymzki-haruki || @wouldirunofftheworldsomeday || @lostandsearching || @lezzzbehonesthere || @musicinourlips || @chaekhan || @diaryoflife || @nervoustrack || @aquamarinescarlet || @cristin-rjd || @idamaemann || @fortunatelynerdylight

#elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen x yn #Elizabeth Olsen x Reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x yn #elizabeth olsen x !bottom reader #dom lizze #dom!elizabeth olsen #avengers imagines #brat reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagines #elizabeth olsen smut

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sunflowergyeomie · 3 years

Text

brat ; y. jh & h.js

pairing: dom!yoon jeonghan x subfem!reader x dom!hong joshua

genre: failed attempt of angst, smut (18+), and fluff at the end

word count: 4.1k

warnings: poly, brat!reader, masturbation, toy, fingering, profanity (like always), dirty talk, size kink, male oral receiving, unprotected sex (please use condoms irl!!!), a tiny bit of nipple play, gagging, praise kink, LOTS of orgasm denial, positions: doggy and cowgirl, lube, double penetration (yeah i know), a hint of exhibitionism, overstimulation, and creampies

❁: hiiii, yes you can call me bestie, bestie ☺️ first of all, thank you for requesting! and also i'm sorry i took so long. i really really hope you enjoy it and it meets your expectations 💗 and i'm so sorry if it doesn't ☹️ let me know what you think! i won't get offended, there's always room for improvement :) this was rly fun to write. (i also didn't know what pov you wanted so i went for female 😖)

also guys..... i definitely went overboard.

“Hi.”

You coo, smiling widely as your boyfriend’s face pops onto your phone’s screen. Maybe it was the fact that you haven’t seen him in almost a month or maybe it was because you were running low on the lack of his attention but still, he looked breathtaking even after having just woken up with messy blonde tresses covering his forehead, a lazy smile spread across his lips. Or maybe it was because he was Yoon Jeonghan.

That joy only lasted for a few seconds before you were reminded of your ceaseless pain.

The eight cities they were currently touring was getting to you, both mentally and physically. You couldn’t even remember the last time you were touched. Hell, it was stupid of you to even agree to Jeonghan’s bargain – a promise of a huge reward if you could withstand touching yourself or using any toys of some sort for the entire duration of his trip. He insisted it was to improve your sex life.

Yeah, okay, improve my sex life all you want. I wonder if it’d be fun watching Joshua pound me into the mattress instead.

You scoff, annoyed that you were suddenly reminded of your little situation again. You were just about to have a pleasant conversation with one of your boyfriends, but your sexual frustration overpowered your thoughts. They couldn’t be doing stuff without me, right?

“It’s barely even morning and you’re already being a brat?” Jeonghan’s voice croaks, that sexy rasp of his blending with the rustling sounds of the crisp white duvet. He sits up to slouch against the hotel bed frame, holding the phone up at an arm’s length so that you could see his face at its best with all the small blemishes covering his face shown by the bedside lamp at early dusk.

“No,” you protest, “Why the fuck would I be a brat?” Irritation tugs at your voice, “What have you and Josh been doing?” You might’ve sounded a little petty, but he shrugged it off, blaming it on the time zone difference.

“Why?” a corner of his mouth quirks up, “Are you trying to keep tabs on us? Scared we’ll do something without you?”

“No, no. Was just wondering, that’s all.” You force a smile, hands playing with each other hidden from underneath the camera’s view. Of course, you didn’t want Jeonghan to catch onto the fact that one, you were dying of any sort of release and two, you were maybe possibly a little bit jealous that your boyfriends were together.

A full-on mischievous look is now plastered on his handsome face, “Okay, so you wouldn’t mind if Shua and I had a little fun tonight?” He bites his bottom lip, “You know, it’s been ages. It could use as a nice stress relief too after all the hard work we’ve been doing.” He pouts, pretending to think. ‘Isn’t that right, Joshuji?”

No!

Joshua pops his head into the frame, “Y/N, don’t listen to him. Of course, we’re not going to do that.” Your heart swells as he reassures you. God, you missed Joshua, your kind and gentle man who always manages to put a smile on your face even on the darkest of days. Like today when the devil (aka Yoon Jeonghan) wants to play in the depths of fire.

A hand takes hold of Joshua’s waist. Before he could look back, Jeonghan’s already pulled him into the bed with him, pressing his chest into the soft pillows, face cheekily turned to the side with kissy lips, playfully acting like he was about to plant one on Joshua’s high cheekbones when Joshua counters back by lifting up a fist threateningly at him. Now the both of them were bickering on screen while you couldn’t hold back your laughter on the other line of the call.

A little while into the video call, the two had to go, explaining they had to rush for a schedule which you fully understood as you quickly waved them off, blowing a quick kiss before pressing the end call button.

The sinful thoughts of masturbation once again crowd your mind as you internally fight with yourself, knowing that if you surrendered now all the past weeks of hard resistance would’ve gone to waste. But... looking would be considered acceptable, right? After all, you weren’t touching it. You open the second drawer on your nightstand to see a sparkly pink toy roll towards you, its encrusted crystals reflecting off the ceiling light. Your hand goes out to reach for them before you stop and pull back. You know for a fact Jeonghan would easily find out if you had been using it while they were gone. Sighing heavily, you slammed it shut and turned to face the opposite side of your room, mood dampened now that you once again, blue-beaned.

Day 25. Check.

The call disconnects at the same time Jeonghan throws his phone across the duvet; pure joy with a hint of uncertainty expressed across his face after talking with you. He noticed your slight change in mood, but he couldn’t pinpoint why you were acting that way. He figures he would just ask when he came back. Joshua glances over at the love-smitten man, “Are you really not going to tell her we’re coming home tonight?” He queries, refolding a shirt he dropped after hurriedly hearing your voice coming from Jeonghan’s phone when he scrambled over.

“Where’s the fun in giving it away so easily?” Jeonghan falls back onto the pillows, “Now we can really see if she’s the good girl everybody says she is.”

If you thought last night was bad, today felt even worse. The only thought you’ve been envisioning all day was being filled up. You wanted to be filled up so badly, ruined by Jeonghan and Joshua’s long and girthy cocks. All you could feel at work was the empty space in between your legs, throbbing as you sat at your seat which messed up your mentality even more.

Now that you were finally in the safe confines of your own home, you weren’t sure if that was any better than being outside now that it meant you were more prone to being alone with your thoughts. You turn around and fall back into your mattress, the soft memory foam sinking in around you, molding the shape of your body. It sucked that both were gone at the same time. If you had just one of them here with you, it would suffice but then again, you weren’t that keen on leaving one out anyways.

Your head turns to eye the oak bedstand again, specifically the second drawer containing what your mind seems to think of the most at this moment – your most prized possession. It was like you were stuck in a trance, feeling your heart beating rapidly in your chest as the sound reached your ears. It was as if you were a marionette, the cross brace controlling your arms to make your hand latch onto the handle and pull it open. This time, you were successful at taking it out, you run your fingers along the cool surface of the pretty pink glass, reflecting off your dilated pupils.

Fuck it, he won’t know.

You drag your shorts down along with your underwear, hands already reaching in between your legs to finally sense some type of friction in between your folds. You were already wet, slick with arousal from not being satisfied for a while now. You massage at your nub, gathering more and more wetness before slipping a finger into your opening, going as deep as you can while you continue to scissor, eyes shut tight from imagining it was one of the boys’ fingers. Slowly adding another, you pump in and out while your juices start gathering, preparing you for the main event. The crystal-encrusted glass dildo finally makes its appearance when you bring it close to your heat, trailing it up and down your slit as you try and gather as much slick as possible. Like Jeonghan always does, you play with the entrance, teasing yourself with the tip, pretending you’re going to put it in but not quite yet.

“See, I told you she wasn’t what you thought she’d be like.”

Oh god, you were missing them so much, you were even hearing their voices now. It sounded exactly like they were in the same room as you.

Joshua tsks and walks to join Jeonghan at the doorway, “Y/N, I’m so disappointed. I didn’t know you’d be such a bad girl.”

You know I’m only a bad girl for you, Shua.

And that’s when you realize, your hearing wasn’t a depiction of your imagination, you weren’t just visualizing the boys’ help. You were actually hearing them because they were here, right now, in your room, in person.

Panicking, you quickly sit up, dislodging the toy as it drops flat on your cotton sheets right in between your open legs. Everything goes still, you make eye contact with them while they stare back with their arms crossed.

“Uh…welcome back?” You try, mentally wincing at your response and what they just caught you doing. Jeonghan lets out a puff of air, “I don’t know... Shua and I had a big surprise planned for you but...” He sighs again and tilts his head, mocking a frown, “Ah- nevermind.”

Wait- but it doesn’t count, you didn’t insert it in. The panic of a long-awaited orgasm denial burned at your throat, scratching it like swallowing the driest hard-boiled egg without the slightest bit of water to gulp it down. You clenched around nothing; legs still wide open on display as you wanted nothing more than to be fucked brainless now that they’re physically in front of you.

“No!” You shout, scrambling off the bed and falling to the floor onto your knees. You crawl to the person you knew would give in to you without a second thought, “I-I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” Joshua smirks, bending halfway using his forefinger to tilt your chin up, “Aw, look, Hannie, she’s sorry.”

You peer up at him through your lashes, confused and surprised by the big demeanour change. Suddenly, you couldn’t wrap your head around where your sweet and soft-hearted Joshua went and who he got replaced with instead. Was Joshua always like this or was the pent-up energy too much the last month that he’s only had the opportunity to unleash his innermost nature now? Surely, Jeonghan couldn’t have brought it out in him while they were gone. Whatever it was, you were becoming to feel a little more exhilarated at this new side to Joshua. He wasn’t planning on playing nice today, but you had one more trick up your sleeve that you knew he wouldn’t be able to withstand.

You put on your most seductive face, a mix between lust and insolence. Two can play at this game. Licking your lips, you drawl as you emphasize each word “I want your big cock in my pussy. I want you to fill me up and ruin me.”

Upon hearing those filthy words come out of your mouth, blood rushed down his member and pooled around his raging head, the bulge threatening to tear a hole through his trousers.

A hand placed on his thigh while you looked up at him again with your big and round eyes, an innocent smile playing at your lips, “Please?”

Pulling you up by one arm, he drags you to the edge of the bed and forcefully pushes you down. He spreads your legs for room to drag a finger up your slit, testing the waters, glistening and full of juice. Joshua just wants to lick, he wants to taste, he wants to savour your sweet fluid.

A sticky trail follows as he places the finger in his mouth, sucking while he stares at your body, “So wet… just wanna pound that tight little pussy of yours.”

You let out a moan at his blatant words, your whole body heating up from his one movement. His tongue slides out to swipe over his bottom lip before biting hard, looking over his shoulder for a split second to nod at Jeonghan who’s been watching and palming himself through his shorts this whole time.

The effect they both had on you seemed almost staged because to anyone else, it would’ve seemed like it was your first time with them which wasn’t the case at all.

Joshua sits upon his knees, hovering over you while he unbuckles his belt and pulls his pants down, kicking them off as he unbuttons the front of his dress shirt. Your eyes travel with his hands, staring down starting from his toned chest down to the erection pressed firmly against his lower stomach. Joshua pumps himself with one hand to full length, his calloused palms brushing against the tip. Even though all he could think about was how wet and warm you’d feel around his cock, how your muscles would squeeze him tightly and pull him deeper with each brutal stroke of the hips; reward does not come without hard work.

“Suck,” he demands.

You waste no time getting on all fours as your fingers wrap habitually around his girth, hollowing your cheeks. Your lips are parted around his cock, sucking sloppily at a steady rhythm as saliva runs down your chin. When you finally lock eyes with his, you couldn’t help but beam when Joshua throws his head back to let out a low groan, bucking his hips into your mouth while you continue to descend down his length, bobbing up and down, the rest of what you can’t fit replaced by the twisting and turning of your small hands.

Near the door, Jeonghan continues to stare with lustful and lazy eyes, finally pushing himself off the door frame to saunter closer to the both of you. Dragging his hand down your back and taking place behind your back. His hands begin kneading the supple soft skin, rolling his hips up against your ass. One of his hands makes way to your core. The little bundle of nerves reacts to Jeonghan’s circled motions, letting out a muffled moan against Joshua’s cock, causing tiny vibrations to shoot all around it. His other hand leaves to travel up your bare stomach and onto your sensitive breasts, squeezing it and letting out another whine when you feel his thumb and forefinger pinch your nipple.

You were so immersed in having both men touch you when suddenly, his hands leave your body. Your mouth starts pulling off of Joshua when you turn slightly to try and catch a glimpse of what Jeonghan was up to, which you definitely shouldn’t have when Joshua’s hand finds hold on the back of your head and forces you back down, hitting the back of your throat resulting in a series of repeated gagging and watery eyes.

“Good girls should know their place.”

Jeonghan chuckles, “Joshuji, I didn’t know you could be rough.” He pulls off his mint green sweater set, stripping himself out of his boxers, “Don’t think you’re getting off that easily,” he warns you, quickly grabbing hold of his springing cock and aligning it with your entrance before pushing in one go.

“God,” He groans, feeling completely swallowed by your warmth, “You were right, Shua… She’s so wet…so easy to slide into.”

You nearly bite down on Joshua; relief starts washing all over your body when his hips snap into you. You whimper as you lunge forward, hands finding a place around the backs of Joshua’s thighs for support as each thrust drives his cock further down your throat.

“F-fuck!” Joshua lets out while Jeonghan hungrily splits your folds, balls slapping against your swollen clit. Your heat was already starting to clench and you silently cursed your body for being so weak and needy but he was angling his thrusts so well and Joshua’s face looked so pretty thrown back, it was impossible to endure.

“Poor baby wants to cum already? That fast?” Jeonghan pants, pistoning even faster, only giving you one to two more hard thrusts before pulling out completely, denying you of a sweet release. It’s almost like they planned this because, despite his own rising peak, he slides out of your mouth, your lips slick and swollen with a mixture of your saliva and pre-cum.

They give each other a knowing look before Jeonghan gets up so that Joshua can place you on top of him as he lies down. Contrary to his actions, he gives you a sweet smile before lifting you up by the waist, enough for you to line yourself up against him before he drops you down onto his shaft. You let out a hiss of pleasure, his cock disappearing up your ribbed walls while Joshua helps you grind slowly, purposely setting the pace slow since you have no clue as to what’s coming next. It was always unexpected with the two although you never complained, knowing they would never intentionally try to hurt you.

“I bet you can feel how full I am inside of your cunt, huh?” You whimper in response, “I can feel how badly you want to milk me…milk me dry.”

He pushes you forward, making his cock reach deeper inside of you.

“J-Josh, fuck.” He lets his lips brush over your collarbone, kissing you lightly before deepening it. His teeth graze over the same spot, leaving light imprints with his tongue darting out to smooth the marks before latching on and sucking firmly with every intent on showing others who you belonged to.

You didn’t realize Jeonghan left the room until he came back with something hidden in his hand, a bottle of something – which if you guessed correctly would be…. lube?

He sits beside Joshua, hand reaching up to brush away the messy strands covering your face, pushing them behind one ear as he watches your face contort into all sorts of pleasure considering your relentless bouncing on top of his other partner, admiring the features he missed seeing so much, swearing he’s never seen a more beautiful sight than right now. He gets up to take his place behind you again.

Joshua takes the time to relax you, he pulls you flat against his chest, bringing his lips to lock with yours. His plump lips were soft against your own despite how desperate he was to shove his entire tongue into your mouth, mapping and exploring the inside of your mouth. Meanwhile, Jeonghan flips open the cap to squeeze a hefty amount of lube on your other entrance, using his digits to gently oil your opening, adding inch by inch until he can fit his whole finger. His cock twitches at the tightness around his index finger. The ring of muscles was gripping onto him like a rubber band that was tied a little too tightly – not to the point where he was uncomfortable, but to the point where it was still bearable. He could already imagine how orgasmic it would feel on his sensitive sex. He slowly adds another finger, groaning himself when he sees the stretch because he was getting impatient, wishing it was his cock instead.

A moan escapes your lips, “M-more.” You beg, arching your back so that Jeonghan could have more access. As soon as he hears your eagerness, he abruptly jerks his fingers out to massage a generous amount of the oil-based substance onto his cock.

“I’ll give you enough so that everyone who can see through your bedroom window can see us fucking you raw.”

Jeonghan stuffs the head of his cock into your ass, eyebrows furrowing as he stretches you further in, lost in the sensation. It was almost too much, a grunt tumbles out of his lips.

Having waited long enough, Joshua takes this as a sign to start bucking upwards at a brutal pace. Soon enough, Jeonghan joins him, slamming his hips into you with such force that you were sure you were about to split in half. Your hands fly to Joshua’s shoulders, gasping as both of them pummel in and out of you. The height of pleasure increasing three-fold the way Joshua’s cock was rubbing against Jeonghan’s between the thin layer of flesh between your pussy and ass, the sensitivity of both cocks causing your eyes to roll back as they both continue hitting spots you didn’t even know you had inside of you, mascara-lined tears streaming down your face. Jeonghan bends down to sink his teeth into your shoulder.

You start to cry out from oversensitivity, not having expected that you would ever experience this. Joshua breaks character for a moment and frowns slightly when he hears your shaky breaths. He rubs knowingly against your back, mumbling soft and reassuring words to your ear, “It’s okay, baby. We got you. Just a little bit more.”

You can almost hear Jeonghan’s mind going feral behind you. If you knew Jeonghan, you would know that his mind never shuts off. He always knows what to say at the right moments and even at the wrong times, it still turns out to sound somewhat smart but now that he’s in this newfound position, all the information he’s stored in his brain seemed to have been attacked by a virus known as you and how you feel around him – hot and tight, very tight – giving his all to you in concentration. The feeling of your skin on his, the smell of your arousal, everything.

The entire room is only filled with moans and groans from all three of you. Jeonghan grabs at the back of your head, tugging at your hair and using it as a rope to pull you back into him with every pump. The fire in your abdomen burns as Jeonghan’s hips stutter violently, his length pulsing as he shoots string after string of his hot seed inside of you, sliding out of your hole shortly to watch his potential babies flow out.

Joshua only gives him a second to watch before he digs his feet onto the bed, jackhammering into your spongey cervix, “Want me to fill you up? Want to see your pussy drip with my thick, white cum.”

Sweat drips down the side of his face as he stares at the area conjoining you two. His thumb rubs the swollen nub, ultimately making your vision blurry when the tension snaps and your walls flutter around his cock. It was enough to push Joshua to the edge and it hits hard, prompting him to erupt a sticky load – so much of it that it spills from the sides, down your thighs and onto his stomach.

Soft snores escape the man sleeping soundly beside you. It must’ve been a long flight. You knew he always found it difficult to fall asleep on airplanes, your eyes trace the shadows under his eyes and glaze over his tired-looking skin. You pull the covers up higher, tucking it snug just below his chin before you flip on your left side to face the other man.

Jeonghan.

You rest your head on top of his chest, the slow rise and fall from his breathing calm you with every passing minute. His hand reaches to play with your fingers, loosely intertwining them as he rambles on about the tour and how much they missed you – how much he missed you – all the things he saw that reminded him of you, all the tiny trinkets and souvenirs he bought from every stop kept in a little box still in his suitcase. He promises to unpack them tomorrow so you can admire them fully but right now, he just wants to hold you, he wants to make up for all the missed time.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize. Guilt started eating at your gut. All this time you were way too caught up in your own head. While they were thinking about coming home to you, you were thinking about your own desires, filthy desires that made you angry enough to forget about everything else.

Jeonghan falters, hand going up to cup your cheek, raising your chin to look at him, “Why are you sorry? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Eyes pooling in a whirling circle of sincere apologies and utter regret, he’s confused at the look you were giving him, “I was a bitch last night, wasn’t I?”

He pauses and then laughs, eyes crinkling as he finally understood what you were implying, “Yeah…” he nods in agreement, “Want me to sign you up for anger management?”

Your face drops but before you could fully react, Jeonghan leans in and gives you a short but sweet peck, full of love and emotion, a kiss that doesn’t need words to detect what his response really means, despite the odd way he said it, which was…

I forgive you.

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