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petpenname · 1 month

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Heartache

pairing: Ellie Williams [brother's best friend] x fem reader c.w. : smoking summary: you have had your eyes on your brother's best friend and band member forever, but you'd never think she would actually talk to you? a/n: this was a submission + I'll make more parts if it gets a good response!

The air in your room hangs heavy with humidity. A slight breeze from your open window blows through, fluttering your various posters and decor hanging on your walls. And over you, sprawled across your bed, flipping through social media, you were honestly bored out of your mind. Three weeks into summer and your closest friend was away for vacation, leaving you alone… and bored.

Cycling through your socials again you get fed up with the lack of entertainment and toss your phone on the floor with an exacerbated sigh. You lay on your bed, wondering what you should do to fill the void of dopamine when the sound of music begins to fill the house. A mixture of rock, indie, and midwest emo songs rang out from your garage, conveniently positioned directly under your room.

Your brother's band got around to practicing, you assumed. You didn’t even realize your brother was home, he had gone out earlier this morning after your parents left for work. The music got louder and you suddenly had an idea of what you wanted to do, and it wasn't staying here and listening to your brother's shitty garage band. You gather your sketchbook, some pens, headphones, and a few other things into a bag, throw on a hoodie and a pair of shoes and head downstairs. You were headed to a river spot in the woods near your house. It was a commonly frequented spot by you, and your friends but not known to many. Perfect for a little seclusion and wading in cool water.

You walk down stairs and almost instantly are hit with the strong earthy smell of smoke. You linger for a second and decide that your trip would be improved with a joint, hoping your brother would front you something, you enter the loud garage.

Your brother and his band mates, all two of them, were unaware of your entrance. They were playing as loud as possible (maybe not as well as possible) but they were producing sound! Your brother slamming away on the drums while the guitarist, and bassist/singer were in their own worlds.

“Hey!” you yell over the trio.

“HEY KAI!” You shout once more at your brother. Who, without skipping a beat or stopping, yells back.

“WHAT DO YOU WANT?”

This got the attention of the other two band members who did stop upon seeing you standing there, amps silencing to white noise feedback.

“Can I get a joint?” you ask.

“You got money for a joint?” Kai laughs.

“Can you just front me one?” you reply back flatly

“Why should I?”

“If you give me one I wont tell mom you were smoking in the house again.” You counter.

“It’s the garage so technically not the house and whatever you know they wont do anything”

“She can have one of mine?” a voice sparks up behind Kai, drawing your attention to the guitarist. A girl named Ellie. She and Kai had been longtime friends and bandmates. You barely knew anything about her other than she was in Kai’s grade, one above yours, but you knew her. You knew her eye color, her favorite flannel she wore a little too often. You knew she got a new guitar last year, and a fresh tattoo this year that shined under the garage light as she held up a joint in your direction.

You also knew that this was one of the only times she had ever spoken to you. Not like you were around each other often but you almost felt like she would try to avoid you when she was over. Shocked, but with adrenaline pumping you took your chance, walking over to Ellie. She still had her guitar hanging around her, flannel sleeves rolled up, her hair was a bit disheveled from playing, strands falling out of her half up hair do.

She hands you the joint with a sideways smile, and her eyes glint a bit.

“Thanks, you’re so much nicer than my brother” you scoff, giving her a smile back. You turn to leave, flipping off Kai as you bound out the door, leaving the band members commotion in the garage. Not seeing Kai chuck a drumstick at Ellie who dodges it with a laugh.

The success of getting a joint over shined the butterflies fluttering in your stomach from that look she gave you. The sun hit your face as you got outside and you were only looking forward to your solo date in the forest.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sun was setting slowly, but from where you were in the woods shade had taken over your spot. You had smoked, worked on your art, and walked along the water looking for rocks. Hanging out in the forest for a few hours always rejuvenated you in a way you couldn’t explain. But you started to get cold and decided now was a good time to head home. While packing up you realized you had pretty bad cotton mouth from the joint, so you planned to stop by the corner store.

It wasn’t a long walk but by the time you got to the corner store it was dusk. Street lights started sparking up like stars in the night sky. You opened the glass door and walked in, perusing the aisles for any snack or drink that could satiate your munchies. You were contemplating between an iced tea or a soda when the doorbell rang as someone walked in the store. You barely noticed the bell, or the girl walking up behind you until she spoke.

“Did you enjoy your smoke?”

You jump, previously lost in your thoughts, you turn around to see Ellie standing there. She was wearing a hoodie now, her guitar in its case strapped to her back.

“Oh my god you scared me!” you say, almost dropping the bottles in your hands.

“Sorry! Didn't mean to!” Ellie laughs, moving around you to open the fridge door next to you and grab a coke. “Funny running into you here” she says, a little awkward you note.

“I mean my house is only a few blocks away,” you laugh.

“Mm ya i guess so, you getting both of those?” Ellie looks down at the bottles in your hand.

“Oh um, I'm getting this one.” you hold up the iced tea & go to put back the soda. Before you could think Ellie takes the iced tea from your hand and starts walking towards the front of the store.

“Hey wait!” you look at her confused.

“Oh do you want something else princess?” Ellie turns back to look at you with a smirk.

Sparks ignite in your stomach, confused but now flustered, your mind swirling. You finally get a word out, “no, just that” and Ellie turns back to walk towards the cash register.

You follow her, not really knowing what to do or how to act. Ellie and you had barely spoken to each other before this. And now she's acting so casually around you, and what did she call you? Everything happened so fast you barely caught it but reflecting back now, did she call you princess?

Ellie pays for the two drinks and you walk out together, taking your ice tea from her once outside.

“Thank you, you didn't have to do that” you say, unscrewing the top and taking a refreshing sip.

“Don't mention it” Ellie says, “So are you going back home now?”

“Mhm yeah, what about you?”

“Yeah I was, but it's getting dark now, i’ll walk you back home first” Ellie says with a smile.

“Who said chivalry was dead” you joke, it was a nice gesture, as much as you were confused by Ellie’s sudden intentions you couldn’t help but feel a type of way when she looked at you. Her green eyes danced over your face like she was memorizing your features. You wondered if she always looked at you this way?

She had. Ellie for the past few years had been keeping such a distance from you because when you were around she felt her whole body tense up. She felt like she was on fire if you looked in her direction. And god help her if she tried to speak around you, she ended up tripping over her words and losing her train of thought. Truthfully, she didn't know what magical queer fairy blessed her with the confidence to talk to you today. But she had taken in a chance earlier in the garage, and when she saw you in the store she knew it wasn't a coincidence.

The walk back to your house was short, only a few blocks. You and Ellie joke together and talk about summer plans in the meantime. Both of you slightly high still, making your balance shifty, occasionally you would brush shoulders, sending sparks down each other's spines.

When you get to your house you stop at the walk way, a little awkwardly since you knew Ellie had been in your house before.

“Thanks for walking me home! And buying me this, um and the joint '' you say, taking in all of Ellie’s courtesy today, a little unsure what to do with yourself.

“Any time!” Ellie says with a smile, she fidgets where she stands for a second before reaching her hand up to your face. She tucks a small strand of hair behind your ear, without breaking eye contact.

“Have a good night y/n” and with that she turns around and walks away, putting up her hood.

She left you solidified on the sidewalk, body unmoving but nerves on fire with a simple touch. You float for the next hour or so, barely registering going into your house and up to your room. Trying to make sense of what had just happened, and why now? And why so suddenly?

Later that night you receive a notification on Instagram

* @www.ellie followed you *

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie tlou #ellie williams smut #ellie smut #the last of us

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eloves-writes · 5 months

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so it goes…

[coriolanus snow x reader]

desc: part 2 here! as dr gaul’s assistant, you find yourself alone in her laboratory bearing an unpleasant task with her other mentee, coriolanus snow, who you strongly despise. or so it goes … warnings: smut, oral sex (f receiving), slightly public sex, reader is wearing a skirt, think that's it but please lmk if i need to add anything! a/n: thank you so much for all the love on my last fic! and thank you anon for this request, i love and appreciate requests more than you know!!! enjoy this. will for sure write a second chapter if one singlular person expresses interest. mwah mwah mwah ily this work contains mature themes, minors dni

dr gaul’s lab was filled with weird and wonderful (but mostly weird) things. you sat, bored, on your side of the gamemaker’s desk staring at shelves and shelves of creatures of all shapes and sizes with various muttations. according to the clock beside you, it had been 30 minutes since gaul herself had left the room to ‘see to something’. it was often best not to ask questions when things like that happened, but you really wished she would come back soon as your work day technically ended in a few minutes and gaul’s second-favourite mentee came to visit her after hours almost every day. coriolanus snow was not necessarily an unpleasant person, not to you at least, but he was certainly unbearable. he was so up his own ass thinking he was better than everybody else that he failed to realise how much of a pompous twat he was. ‘snow lands on top’. god, those four words were practically all you heard come out of his mouth when he wasn’t sucking up to dr gaul or spewing fake niceties to any authoritative figure who would listen.

as you were thinking about how annoying he is and how pretentious his stupid hairstyle was, the door to the lab was hauled open by the peacekeepers who stood guard outside. thank god gaul was back, you couldn’t wait to get out of here. not that you weren’t grateful for this assistant’s position, because it was a highly coveted role for university students each year and you’d beat them all out for it. even snow. ha. even suck-up snow. fuck. snow.

the tall blond had entered the lab and was walking up to your desk with his usual self-assured smile and red uniform.

“y/n, good evening.”

“snow.”

his pleasant facade dropped for just a moment at your monotonous response.

“where’s dr gaul?”

you passive aggressively put down the pen you had been tapping on the desk.

“i don’t know,” you replied blandly, studying his face like you trying to read his mind. “she left like a half hour ago to ‘see to something’, but she’s not been back. i’d suggest you leave and speak to her tomorrow instead.”

coriolanus pulled a face as if thoroughly surprised that anyone could be anything less than cordial to him. it was a subtle change in expression, but you figured that’s what he was thinking.

“that’s quite alright, y/n,” he smiled mockingly, “i’ll sit right here and wait. nowhere to be tonight.”

“shocker,” you murmured, watching as snow sat in the empty chair opposite you.

the two of you stayed sat at gaul’s desk for almost 10 minutes before either of you said anything else.

“how is the apprenticeship going?” snow asked, trying to fill the awkward silence by feigning interest.

“it’s great. thanks. thrilling, actually. i’m having the time of my life. this is so much fun,” you retorted.

coriolanus raised an eyebrow and shifted in his seat. “you know, every one of gaul’s students wanted this apprenticeship. if you’re not enjoying it, i am more than certain that you could find somebody to fill the role.”

you huffed sarcastically. “oh good try, snow. i’m not giving it up that easily.”

“so i’ve heard,” he muttered.

before you could respond to that, the laboratory doors hauled open again and dr gaul finally returned.

“ah, coriolanus, good,” she welcomed, entering with purpose in her stride. “i have a small ask of the pair of you.”

there was no way in the whole of panem that this would be a ‘small’ ask, coming from her. coriolanus’ eyes widened in apprehension.

“don’t make that face at me, coriolanus snow.”

“sorry.”

“good. i must continue to deal with a situation that has arisen, i need you two to feed chupa before he gets too hungry. that’s all, then you both may leave and i shall see you," you watched her search for a rhyme, "before tomorrow’s eve.”

then she turned to leave, with you and coriolanus pulling faces of horror. ‘chupa’ was a particularly hideous and dangerous looking creature that gaul had advised you, on multiple occasions, to keep your distance from. and now she was asking you to feed him? sometimes it was like she wanted you dead.

“wait a minute,” you said hesitantly. gaul moved only her head to look at you and you regretted opening your mouth immediately. “sorry, dr gaul, you want us,” you motioned to yourself and snow, “to feed that,” you pointed at the cage where the beast appeared to be smirking.

“yes,” she replied plainly. “he will eat anything, but he most likes the small green snakes.”

with that, she left the lab again.

coriolanus looked at you, looked at chupa, then looked back at you. “what the fuck is that?”

you snorted, enjoying seeing him uncomfortable. “do you want to get the snakes, or shall i?”

“you get them,” he spoke quickly. “i don’t like snakes.”

you were suspicious at this apparently strong aversion to the slithering reptiles. perhaps they’d scared him when he was younger, and never shook it off. or perhaps one had bitten him. you imagined him flailing his arms and screaming and it made you chuckle to yourself as you took a jar half-filled with thin, forest green snakes. they weren’t venomous, in fact they were quite amiable and undeserving of being fed to the ugly brute in the cage beside you. regardless, you removed two snakes from the jar and placed it back on the shelf.

coriolanus was keeping his distance, making you do all the work. lazy asshole.

“can you open the cage?” you directed snarkily. he tentatively unfastened the top of the cage, standing closer to you than he ever had before. up close, he looked like a real person. a real person who was just as real as everybody else in the capitol, not any better. he smelt better than a lot of them though. like cologne and fresh roses. you mentally chastised yourself for noticing and tried to focus on the task at hand.

your snake-holding hand slid towards chupa’s mouth, which opened to reveal a large set of sharp fangs that seemed to be moving upwards

“be careful of the fangs,” snow warned from behind you.

“thank you coriolanus, i’m so glad you told me that. i was truly about to stick my fingers into his mouth,” you retorted sarcastically, starting to feed the snakes to the disgusting creature.

he mumbled something incoherent that sounded something like “i wish you would.”

“sorry what was that, snow? did you say something,” you asked, becoming more irritated by his unhelpful presence.

as chupa finished the tail of the second snake, he bit the air above him in an attempt to get your hand for dessert, making you rapidly withdraw your hand from the cage and leap backwards. coriolanus dropped the lid in shock and it thankfully fastened itself.

when you had leapt backwards, you had leapt backwards straight into snow’s arms that he had instinctively wrapped around you in protection. his arms were stronger than they looked through his uniform jacket, and his chest much more toned. it felt beyond strange to be this close to him. but something deep inside of you suddenly yearned to be closer, and you slowly rotated yourself in his arms to face him, hands pressed against his chest.

coriolanus was looking into your eyes like nothing else was in the room. like he had never seen a person’s eyes this close before. he was looking at you like you were most incredibly fascinating thing he had ever seen.

and maybe you were; he had grown used to the capitol women throwing themselves at him. he didn’t struggle to take them home, had no issues finding a date to all the various events he attended. then there you were- snapping at him and poking fun at him, and not even waiting until his back was turned to roll your eyes or pull faces. in what he deemed a cruel twist of fate, you were the only girl in the capitol who didn’t look at him like he was god, and you were the only girl in the capitol he truly felt something deeper than momentary lust for.

his lust for you was not momentary. it was perpetual. and having you this close to him, safe and protected in his arms, confirmed for him that you needed to be his. the world bent to the will of coriolanus snow. and so would you.

in an instant where your body no longer obeyed your better judgment, you pressed your lips to coriolanus’.

he kissed you back like you were a source of oxygen, using his advantageous hold of you to force you to walk backwards towards the rows of bookshelves behind gaul’s desk without separating your lips. he swiftly checked the door to make sure nobody had snuck in before your bodies were eclipsed by the cover of the well-stocked shelves and you were roughly pushed up against them. snow continued to kiss you, moving down to your neck to leave marks sure to raise questions the next morning, then down to your collarbone, unbuttoning your blouse as he went so that his path was clear to mark you with his mouth all the way down to the waistband of your skirt. his kneeled down before you and pushed up your skirt, looking up at you for approval. you nodded, still caught up in the moment. this was fine. this felt good. it really felt good when snow removed your panties and placed your legs over his shoulders, holding you up at the waist and running his tongue along your folds, earning a loud moan from you. he withdrew his head from you skirt to shush you, before returning his tongue to your centre and flicking it against your clit. you bit onto your knuckle to absorb the sound of the whimpers escaping you. where the fuck had he learned to do this? it felt heavenly, his mouth drawing you ever closer to release with his large hands digging into your hips to keep you in position.

“coryo,” you whispered. “coryo, i’m close.”

he began to hum in acknowledgement, sending you right over the edge. a moan slipped from your mouth as you came, feeling your slick drip onto his face. he continued to lap at your juices as you rode out your orgasm, a blissful haze washing over you. if these were the skills making snow so cocky, you couldn’t fault him for that particular trait any longer. he lifted his head and smiled at you like a man who was very aware you’d just cum on his face by his manipulation. he helped you take your legs from his shoulders with a satisfied smirk when they wobbled under the weight of your body, then he kissed you again, softer this time, to force you to taste yourself on his tongue. you reached your hand forward to his crotch, palming him through his constricting pants. he indulged you for a minute, then removed your hand and lifted it to his lips like a true gentlemen.

you felt a little disappointed to not repay the favour, finally feeling content with your formerly repressed lust for the man.

but then he leaned down to your ear and whispered in a low tone, “you can owe me one,” before giving you one last lewd kiss and leaving you stood behind the bookshelves in the head gamemaker’s office with messed up hair and a realisation that you really wanted coriolanus snow to come and visit after hours again tomorrow.

#coriolanus snow #corio snow x reader #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus imagine #coriolanus snow smut #coryo snow #coryo x reader #hunger games fanfiction #tbosas fic #tbosas #coryo smut #coryolanus snow #coriolanus x y/n #coriolanus x you #corio snow #corio snow smut #president snow #president snow smut

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gyuzgrl · 3 months

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Sweat for me ||kmg||

Summary- Mingyu's hot. You're hot. Surely a night alone at the gym, sweating and panting together, would sit with you just fine, right?

Mingyu's body is undeniably sculpted. Everyone knew that. What they didn't know, however, is that his impressive physique was all thanks to you- his workout partner. Had it not been for you, he would've lost all his motivation to hit the gym in the first place. After all, who doesn't want to get hot and sweaty with a pretty girl like yourself?

For over a year now, you and him had met up almost every day at 9 am sharp, outside your company-provided dorm. He'd have his car parked in front of your building, waiting outside your door as you invited him in for a quick protein shake. You'd chat over 'breakfast' for a bit, gossiping about the employees and your co-workers, sometimes even indulging in a bit of harmless flirting as you spoke. (not harmless, you had fallen hopelessly in love with him)

Today wasn't going to be any different, you thought. That was, of course, until your phone rang beside you, lighting up with his contact name instantly.

"hello?"

"hey," he breathed, his tone somewhat troubled.

"what's wrong gyu? "

You were worried. He never called at night. Hell, as idols that's when you worked the most- practicing in the dance studio or in the recording room until you saw the sun creeping up around you and finally decided to head back home.

"nothing I just- I need a distraction and I was wondering if you wanted to workout"

"hm? yeah okay I'm in the studio right now, I'll be up in ten," you sighed "tell me what happened?"

"yeah," he whispered. "I'll tell you"

Hanging up, you gathered your things, shoving your notepad and pens into your bag as you headed to your locker. Luckily, you had a spare set of gym clothes which you changed into quickly, mind running over all the possibilities as to what could've gone so wrong to have Mingyu this upset. Either way, you were on your way to see him, hair tied into a neat high ponytail, in your white gym set- a sports bra and some biker shorts that hugged you in all the right places.

Trembling slightly, you opened the glass door to the gym, unsure why you felt this shaky. You'd met him a million times before.

Fuck it was just Mingyu. The guy who eats all your food and picks you up every morning. The guy who whines about how tired he is and how his body aches from all that dancing. The guy who eyes you up and down wordlessly whenever he sees you, tensing his jaw as if to contain something.

Hold on- what?

It was late. Too late for any other Hybe artist to be working out at the gym. Too late for your trainer to oversee your progress. Too late for you and Mingyu to be alone like this.

He spotted you right away, eyes lighting up instantly.

"you came" he said, his voice so gentle it made you weak.

"you called," you whispered under your breath, but he seemed to have caught what you said. You noticed this and instantly moved to cover up any traces of what you said.

"let's uh, let's get down to business, shall we?" your voice filled the suspiciously short silence, "what's the matter gyu?"

He let out an airy laugh, sounding almost exasperated.

"my stupid manager's on my ass again about posting on Instagram."

You let him continue, nodding along as you guided him to sit on one of the benches behind.

"he wants me to post, for the lack of a better word, sluttier pics. like abs and arms and all. apparently, the fans love it and we kinda need to do well with this comeback. he's even considering having me go shirtless- completely on display in the upcoming music video." He sounded tired. So tired.

"he's really throwing you out to the wolves, huh," you patted his thigh sympathetically, "I get how that could make you uncomfortable... it really sucks how people treat you like something to be ogled at just because you're hot"

You pause. He quirks a brow.

"I mean uh, because they think you're hot" you blurt, internally cursing yourself for opening your stupid mouth.

He's quiet for a second before a slight smile plays at his lips- god his lips are gorgeous.

"what about you," he leans into your face, just inches away, "do you think I'm hot?"

"what? yes- I mean no- I mean yeah? no." you stutter, "uh, not rea-"

His laughter cuts you off, and you want nothing more than for the ground to swallow you whole.

"cute" he mutters, "do you wanna get started? I'm not upset anymore but there's so much... pent-up energy, you know?"

His tone takes on a sultry note as he says that last bit, and you take a sharp breath in. You agree wordlessly and head over to stretch.

"I'm already done cause I just got done with dance rehearsals, but I can help stretch you out, hm?"

You freeze momentarily, unsure of what you'd just heard. God your mind was taking a filthy, filthy turn.

Mingyu isn't stupid. He's aware of what his words mean. But seeing you all flustered gets him so riled up, he can't help it.

"y-yeah, you can help me stretch gyu"

Cringing at how you stuttered, you grab a yoga mat and unfurl it onto the wooden floor.

"let's maybe try something new today, yeah?"

He stands behind you, arms resting on your hips, as he pushes your thighs back- straightening them against his own.

"try to touch the mat" he says gently, one hand leaving your thigh to place light pressure on your back.

You thanked your lucky stars you were flexible, cause the lower you went, the more your ass pushed into his groin. He didn't seem to mind it either, with the way he kept pushing, till your palms touched the spongy surface of the mat.

Trying to stand up, you were met with a firm hand holding you in place. A surprised 'hm?' leaves your lips, and he grins at you, the handsome devil.

"hold" he whispered, staring at your perfectly bent form in the mirror up ahead. This position looked unnecessarily sexual- like he was taking you from behind, for all the world to see. You thanked the universe for leaving the gym empty, and wordlessly stayed in place, pushing yourself closer into him.

"10, 9, 8..." he counted, going painfully slow, gritting his teeth.

"...3, 2..."

You waited eagerly for the last number, thighs tensing under his touch, tightening with the stretch, but it never came.

"mingyu-" you start, but it comes out a little more strained and desperate than usual. Your face goes red.

"what was that?"

You kept your mouth shut, not trusting your vocal chords to hold their own in this... sticky situation.

"we're done, I think you're good, you seem uh, flexible enough"

Your head spins as he lifts you back up, pressing your back flush against his chest. His breath tickles the top of your ear- oh my god he's teasing you.

Not wanting to give in so easily, you stepped away and grinned at him.

"what's first on the list?"

"bench press," he says.

"yes sir," you smile, dropping in the honorific to test the waters.

And boy, oh boy are they tested.

Mingyu feels his cock twitch at your words, the length pushing against his boxers ready for action. Clenching his jaw, he follows you to the bench, lying down on the cool black leather after setting his weights on either side. He lifted heavy. That was for sure. You could barely deadlift what he pressed, but the variation in strength turned you on in a way you couldn't even comprehend.

"don't let me die" he usually says, before he starts his set, but tonight, his words are a little different.

"you'll kill me if you keep staring like that"

That alone is enough to snap you out of your trance, and you realize that you've been staring daggers into him, thinking about how strong he is.

"like what?" you grin, steadying yourself behind him.

He huffs, glaring up at you, and starts lifting the bar up above his head.

Your eyes are trained on him, ready to offer support when he's at his limit. The first few movements come easy to him, and you begin to wonder if he's already ready to press even more. His arms tense deliciously under the weight of the bar, and you observe his veins popping out along his forearm and on the back of his hand. Damn him and those beautiful, thick arms.

You couldn't help but notice his fingers too- how thick and long they were, how they curled around the bar so easily, how they'd fill you up so good if you just let him.

Licking your lips, you gaze back down at him.

He groans as he pushes the bar up, arms tensing even more now. The sound he makes is undeniably sexy. From the back of his throat, from deep within his chest. You feel your panties dampen in response and you swallow thickly, now somewhat nervous about the whole ordeal.

Fuck, you've barely even begun.

Another groan from him sends your mind ablaze with images of him hovering above you, holding his weight on those sturdy arms as he pounds into you relentlessly, making the same sounds he made just now. Your cheeks feel hot. Your body feels hot.

Fucking hell, he's hot.

Looking up at you, Mingyu seems to take notice of the way your face is already so flushed. He smirks, placing the bar back up, and lifts himself off of the seat.

"your turn, doll" he says, his voice breathy and low.

You're so taken aback by how quickly he's done, that you can barely process the pet name he's used. Sure, he calls you angel and darling and sweetheart and doll and everything under the sun on any normal day, and sure, they sent butterflies fluttering around your insides on any normal day, but this- this for some reason made its way straight down to your pussy.

Your core ached for him.

"huh? my turn? yeah my, my turn"

He stifled a laugh and brought your weights over, replacing his own.

"thanks gyu"

"alright, bring it up," he instructed, staring down at you.

Your arms gave out after the eleventh circuit, and you let out a forced breath, alerting his attention.

"c'mon doll, gimme four more," he soothed, "you can do it, I know you can"

His hands hovered under your aching elbows, as he applied the tiniest bit of pressure to help you.

"mingyu I can't-" you whimpered, "it's too much"

His eyes flashed over with desire before he caught himself and shook his head sternly.

"I've got you, okay? Just a bit more"

You whimpered your way through the last three, and by the end of it, you could barely feel your arms.

The gym was still empty, save for the two of you. The staff had left, and the idols were either lost in dance rehearsals or at home. You had the place all to yourselves. That, coupled with the fact that it was painfully clear that you and he both desired each other, made it hard for you to prevent yourself from soaking through your panties.

Mingyu did two more rounds, which you continued to assist, and you worked on glutes after.

He happened to notice that your posture was off when you were squatting- probably because of how sore your arms were, and without hesitating, his hands made their way once more to your hips.

"what are you-"

"you can go lower, can't you?" he rasped, his grip firm as ever, "and you can keep that back straight too."

You nodded, barely suppressing the whimper that threatened to spill out of your mouth.

"as pretty as it looks arched, I'd rather you didn't hurt yourself, hm?"

You were at your limit. Your mind went blank, and the dampness between your legs spread to your inner thighs. Praying that it wouldn't show through your white bottoms, you squatted down again, with his hands on you, hips following wherever he guided them.

"there we go" he whispered, dangerously close to your neck.

Your body shuddered, goosebumps trailing along all over your skin, and finally, finally, he seemed to acknowledge your state.

"are you cold?" he teased, knowing damn well you were boiling away inside.

You shook your head and stepped away, letting his touch linger on your waist for a second too long.

Eyes burning with red-hot desire, Mingyu stared you down in the mirror, watching your every move. The flush of your cheeks was a telltale sign of how flustered you were, and the goosebumps told him of the effect he had on you. The avoidant, wordless behaviour though, he was confused by.

He knew how he felt from the moment he saw you. Gorgeous as you were, you were fucking fiery too. That smart mouth of yours has kept him up at night for god knows how long, and finally, he intended to do something about it. Your feelings for him grew clear as day over time, and he made it his goal to worship you. But tonight, you seemed so... hesitant. It took him by surprise. Almost as if he was expecting you to crumble and give in instantly.

"y/n,"

Your shoulders tensed as he called your name from across the room, nervousness painfully evident in your stance.

"was it too much?" he asked.

"no, I just- I'm just feeling kinda tense, is all"

You waved him off, turning away to turn off the lights as you left.

He stalked his way behind you, just as the room went dark, and placed his firm hands on your shoulders.

"this any better?" he asked, the low timbre of his voice vibrating along your ear and neck as he massaged soothing circles into the tight muscles of your back.

Fuck it felt good. So good.

"mhm," was all you could manage in response, as you bit back a moan- albeit unsuccessfully- when he pressed harder into your skin.

There you were, shrouded in darkness, sighing and moaning into the open air helplessly as his hands worked their magic into your back. They traveled up to your neck, soothing the spot right below where your hair ended, and instantly your hand shot up to your mouth, muffling a moan that you're sure he's heard.

His fingers halt for a second, and something snaps in him.

"don't you dare hide those pretty sounds from me"

Your pussy flutters at his words, clenching down again, unfortunately, around nothing.

"please-" you whimper, unable to hold yourself together any longer.

The arousal sopping through your shorts was unbearable. He turned you around to face him, his eyes darkening by the second. Unable to hold his gaze, you lower your head, opting instead to look at his chest.

"please?"

Hooking a long digit under your chin, he tilted your head up towards him once again. The sheer intensity of his stare left you aching for him. Need filled you like water, and your breathing turned shallow.

"what do you want, doll?" his voice is smooth and sultry.

A pathetic whimper leaves your lips, and the corners of his curl up into a teasing smirk. He knew what you wanted. Him. But god did he yearn to hear you say it.

"c'mon angel, where'd that smart mouth go? always fucking bossing me around, saying whatever you want, like nothing could ever faze you- but here we are. I've barely even touched you and you look this fucking spent already- jesus"

"I-" you started, chest heaving at his words, "fuck Mingyu please just- God please touch me"

He licks his lips, the same shit-eating grin plastered on that beautiful face of his, and tilts his head.

"there we go, sweetheart... all you had to do was ask,"

He inches closer, stepping forward tantalizingly slow- like he's teasing to see if you can hold out. With each step, your eyes gloss over with desire, with lust, and you want nothing more than to lunge at him and suck deep red marks all over his gorgeous physique.

You whine when he bends down, teasing you with a soft kiss on your nose, and another on the corner of your mouth. Just as you were ready to complain and demand that he kiss you straight, he slips a hand to cup the side of your face, thumb locked on your temple while the other digits secure themselves in your hair, and kisses you nice and slow.

You're frozen for a second, unable to process the gentle need in the way his lips moved against your own- so tender yet so deep, it could almost pass off as a confession of love. You don't let yourself get too wrapped up in the thought, trying not to get ahead of yourself. For all you knew, he was just horny and in need of a quick fuck.

"hey" his voice is soft, like he can hear your thoughts, and you want nothing more than for him to kiss you again.

"hi" you whisper, breathlessly.

"let's get you home, yeah?"

He pats your head, smoothing out the disheveled strands, and kisses your forehead. You're at a loss for words, once again, as his actions take you by surprise. You thought this would end with you and him fucking on one of the benches or on the floor, but he was taking you home?

"do you not want me?" your voice is small. It pulls at his heartstrings painfully so and his expression softens.

"I want you more than anything. I mean it. But not like this."

The slight furrow in your brows makes it easy for him to read your confusion, and he continues.

"I want to worship you. Properly. This is no place for that, don't you agree?"

This man isn't real. He can't be, come on. There's no way he looks that good, talks the way he does, AND wants to what- "worship" you? Your mind reels with the weight of his words, and for a second, you let yourself slip into the possibility that maybe, just maybe, he feels for you the way you do him.

Maybe, he's in love.

A year of 'friendship' will do that to a girl...

"gyu I-"

"let's talk at home, okay doll?"

You nod dumbly and let him lead you outside to his car.

You'd been in here a countless number of times, but now? With the faint glow of the moon on his sweaty skin and the desperation in his eyes, as he rushed to get you home, you're on top of the world.

His hand reaches over to squeeze your thigh when he sees it bounce up and down, reassuring you instantly to soothe that burning mind of yours. When you look over, you his side profile- illegally handsome, by the way- and sigh. 'This is nice' you think to yourself, letting go, letting yourself be loved however he shows it.

A few minutes pass, his hand leaves occasionally to change gears, but always finds its way back, inching higher and higher each time. Daringly you shift forward and his fingers graze the space between your legs, which earns a sharp groan on his end.

"I can feel it through your shorts goddamnit" he grits, sliding his fingers all over, cupping your pussy through the fabric.

He sucks in a deep breath, releasing it shakily, and mutters a quick "thank god" when he pulls into your apartment. He yanks his seatbelt off, running over to your side of the car, before opening your door and scooping you into his arms- bridal style.

You yelp, but he quickly silences it with a kiss, kicking the door closed as he clicks on the lock.

"put me down" you giggle, snuggling into his chest like a puppy does with its favorite human. He rolls his eyes and pulls you closer, protectively, and carries you into the elevator.

The familiar ding hits your ears and he steps out still carrying you- and walks over to your door.

"keys" he groans, "I need the keys"

"they're in my pocket"

"no problemo"

His hand slides from under your knee to the curve of your ass, feeling around for something sharp, unable to find any such object.

"they're not here"

"check again"

And his hand begins it's search, cupping and squeezing your ass, earning a short-breathed chuckle from you.

"doll, they're not-"

He stops when he sees the playful grin on your face as you dangle a set of keys in front of his eyes.

"naughty fucking girl you are" he scoffs, hoisting you up again as he unlocks the door.

You're in. Inside the house. At night. Alone with Mingyu.

Suddenly everything becomes real, and you look at him, smiling down at you softly.

"are you sure about this?" you ask him, meekly.

"hey, that's my line"

You laugh, smacking his chest and let him carry you to the bedroom. The fact that he already knew his way around made you blush, funnily enough. The familiarity made this feel like you were his and he was yours already.

He placed you on your bed, delicately like you were going to break if he wasn't careful. His eyes ran over your body shamelessly, but the look he adorned was that of pure adoration and awe. It made you nervous.

"you'll kill me if you keep staring like that," you say, teasing him slightly, recalling the comment he made at the gym.

"like what" he grins, and you feel a smile tug at your lips.

He kneels in front of the bed and slips off your sneakers one by one, deft fingers untying the intricate knots on the surface. As he slid them off he made sure to graze his fingertips against the sensitive skin of your ankle ever-so-slightly, leaving goosebumps in the path they traveled. Once they were off, he tossed them aside, looking intensely at you to gauge your emotions.

The breathlessness evident on your face was validation enough, and he continued.

Taking hold of one of your feet, he presses light, feathery kisses on your inner ankle, while his other hand reaches up to interlock your fingers with his. Relishing in the way your breath hitches when his lips connect with the neglected skin, he places one last soft kiss before crawling onto the bed, slowly, teasing you knowing damn well how badly you need him.

The movements are slow but intentional, each motion bringing him closer and closer, until he hovers over you, caging your body under his.

"god you're beautiful" he blurts, unable to control himself. You turn away bashfully, only to have your face tipped back towards his.

"don't hide," your expression softened at his words, "not from me, okay angel?"

A smile plays at your lips and you pull him in by the collar of his shirt, locking lips once again. He groans into your mouth as your hands roam the broad surface of his back, nails digging into the grooves of his sculpted muscles.

"fuck let's get this off, yeah?"

Slowly, fuck he's such a tease, he lifted your sports bra off, 'accidentally' running his thumbs over your nipples as he did.

Your body jolts at the sudden stimulation, pleasure running down your spine like electricity. The breaths you didn't realize you were taking for granted all this while suddenly seemed laborious under his touch, and your mouth slipped open to ease your lungs. Sweet, sweet oxygen. The burning in your lungs seems to cool for a second, and you sigh.

"gyu" you mumble, watching him toss the cloth aside.

His gaze, now back on you, falters when he sees your bare chest. Brows scrunching slightly in the middle, he takes in a shaky breath as his limbs carry him to you as if under some sort of spell.

"oh my god" he breathes, "oh my fucking god- you'll be the death of me"

Feverishly, his hands slide up your body, cupping your breasts in his large hands. He kneads them, climbing back on top of you to capture your lips in his once again. A soft moan escapes you when he tugs your lower lip, nipping at the tender flesh, quickly slipping his tongue into your mouth. He was a rapper. Obviously, he's good with that damn tongue of his. You hated how your core tightened from just kissing alone- fuck if he continued you'd probably cum right then and there, moaning into his mouth as he swallows up your sounds greedily.

"mmm fuck"

Your back arches when he moves his lips to your jaw, trailing kisses up to your ear before he whispers-

"what do you want from me"

"you know what I want from you"

"do I?" he teased, gently grazing his teeth along the shell of your ear.

You could hear your heartbeat in your ears, a dull thud sounding over and over, a familiar song you heard long ago. His lips press soft kisses where his teeth left off, and you could swear this was the end for you. Mingyu seemed so aware, so present in the moment, it made your heart swell. It's been a while since you felt this way, hell you aren't sure if you've ever felt this way...

"sweetheart?"

You look up at him, hovering above you as he holds his weight on those gorgeous arms of his.

"you alright?"

"m perfect," you slur, "feel so good right now"

"damn right you are- so fucking perfect for me"

He kisses you deeply, with passion, with hunger, and you whine louder than anticipated, turning red instantly. Your ears and cheeks heat up, embarrassment painted across your pretty face. Mingyu seems far too pleased with himself.

"oh, angel, don't- fuck you're so cute like this"

You shut your eyes tight and shake your head, still glaringly red. He sighs, lips curling at the corners.

The fucker was smirking.

"how about I stop teasing, hm? I think you've been good"

"mhm" you nod desperately.

"say it. use your words," his voice is assertive and low, dangerously so, "you've been a good girl for me so far, haven't you doll?"

A moan slips past your lips at his words, and you nod again, mind swiped of any other thought.

"I- fuck, I've been- good" you choke out, chest heaving even though he has yet to touch you.

"that's it, that's my girl"

The bed dips to the side, and you feel his weight leaving the mattress. Walking back to your feet, he kneels again, hooking his arms under your thighs to pull off the remaining athleisure. All you had left were white lace panties, a tiny, tiny, bit of fabric preserving your dignity. He groans at the sight- you had soaked through them completely, arousal coating your inner thighs.

"so fucking wet for me," he mumbles into your thigh, biting down to stifle a groan you suspect he'd been holding back for far too long.

"you like it that much when I call you that? when I call you a good girl?"

"please"

"please?" he echoes.

"please" you say, a little louder, desperation so evident the blind could see it.

Mingyu laughs, clearly pleased with the state you're in.

"so fucking pretty when you beg"

"mingy-oh my god-"

Without warning, he licks a stripe up your clothed sex, and the feeling sends you yearning for more right away. He eases your underwear off, shoving them into his back pocket, and dives right in.

No one has ever made you feel this way before. Not a fucking soul.

The way his lips cradled your sensitive bud, tongue flicking up and down- gentle, but firm- drove you insane. Your mouth hung open, sharp breaths leaving unevenly. His tongue felt fucking electric. Like he knew your body better than you did yourself. A couple minutes in and you can already feel an orgasm building deep in your stomach, a wave of heat ready to crash.

"m-more," you stutter, "please"

"would this be okay?" he asks innocently, detaching himself for a second to show you his thick, veiny hands.

Before you can agree, he slips a digit into you, tongue returning to your sensitive clit right away. His finger coils up inside you, reaching for the spot you'd like most.

It shouldn't surprise you how easily and quickly he finds it, pressing up immediately, but it does. A choked moan leaves your throat, the loudest one thus far, and your eyes shoot down to his in shock.

"how-"

"I know my way 'round here doll, I own this after all, don't I?"

His words are just enough to send you over the edge, and you tremble as he continues to finger you, helping you ride the wave till you stop spasming.

"so g- fuck you feel so good"

He slips his finger out, bringing it to his lips to lap up your juices. The sight of his tongue darting over his fingers has you whimpering pathetically, in need of something more already. Drinking in the sight of him on his knees for you, you soon realize something. His clothes were still on.

"wanna see you" you mumble, "please"

In a swift motion, his shirt's off and his toned torso is on complete display. The deep divots of his abs have you drooling and you find yourself wanting to bite into them and claim him as your own.

"so you do think I'm hot" he smirks as he gauges your reaction.

"get over yourself ugh"

"not when I've got a fucking goddess in bed with me"

"shut up" you roll your eyes. His eyes narrow at you, slight aggression in his tone-

"yeah, I'm gonna have to fuck that attitude out of you. right fucking now."

You reach out to feel his abs but he smacks your hand away, smirking slyly. He runs his hand down his chiseled body, and god you wish those were your hands touching him. The upward quirk of his lips told you that he knew how badly you wanted to touch him. He knew the effect his body had on you.

"can't touch me yet baby," he smirked lazily, "gotta earn it- gotta prove to me how good you can be, hm? gotta take this thick fucking cock like a good little slut- you can do that for me, can't you doll?"

You whimpered, spreading your legs for him greedily and he moans at the sight. Your sopping folds were on display, only for him to see. All of you was on display only for him to see.

"that's it- so fucking needy" He shoved off his sweats.

Breathing heavily, he crawled over you, slow like an animal stalking his prey. The tip of his cock peeked out of his boxers and your mouth watered at the sight, waiting eagerly to see it in all its glory.

He laughed dryly at your reaction. He found you so damn cute. All needy and cock drunk for him. Him alone.

His boxers were soon pushed off, hardened cock springing free right away.

Shit.

He was huge. Thick and veiny and long- fuck so long he'd be able to kiss your cervix right away. Unable to tear your gaze away from it, you bit your lip in anticipation, a mixture of fear and excitement flashing through your bright eyes.

"h- you're so big," you whispered, "so fucking big-"

He grins, sadistically almost.

"that pretty pussy of yours will make room for me though, won't it?" You gasp. Of course, it will, fuck you'd do anything for him. Anything.

"anything for you- anything to feel you in me"

Those words of yours seem to be it for him, and he holds his cock in his hand, slapping it against your clit so you feel his weight.

"this?" he prods, "you want this in you angel?"

Yes. God yes. Your body screams, aches for him. You fucking need this. You need him. Your mind clouds with lust, and you chant his name like a prayer. How badly you needed him- needed his cock to fill you up real good. Fuck if he would just get on with it and stop teasing already, you were so wet for him.

Your prayers are answered, when you feel his tip slide in, slowly, stretching you out in a way no man ever has before. Your pussy tightens as he fills you so deliciously. Locking your eyes onto the way he slid into your pussy, you moaned when you realized that he wasn't even halfway in yet. How you were going to accommodate for his sheer size was beyond you, but god did you feel good with every inch he sunk further.

"min-gy- oh my god" you shuddered, already feeling your stomach tighten when all he'd done was ease himself into you.

"fuck I'm not even all the way in yet" he groans at the way you clench around him.

"please-" Your voice is hoarse and loud.

You grab onto his arm, digging your nails into the hard flesh. Those were leaving marks, for sure.

"more, gyu please"

"fuck," he shivered, bottoming out right away as your back arched under him, "two taps on my thigh if you want me to stop, okay?"

You nod, squirming under him as he starts to move. His thrusts are slower than you expected, but god are they powerful. You'd always expected him to be a hard and fast kind of guy but evidently, he likes to take his fucking time. The bed shook with each thrust, quivering under him just the way you were. The thick, hard vein running along the underside of his cock rubs against your walls so good, you feel your eyes glass over.

"cock's so good it has you crying? hm?" he grunts out, thrusting upward into you, as he leans back into you for a kiss.

His eyes fluttered shut as your lips connected, and he licked at the seam of your mouth for entrance. Glad to oblige, you open up, a moan slipping out before he muffles it with his tongue. He explored the hollow of your mouth, trailing over your tongue like a man starved. You'd stopped breathing for a bit, completely captured by the way he flooded your senses.

His mouth was on your own, dick still thrusting away inside you, chest heaving against yours- he was everywhere.

A hand made its way down to your clit, thumbing tight circles into the oversensitive nub. You moaned, your own hand chasing his to hold his wrist in place. He let out a shallow groan, feeling the way you clamped down around him right away.

"fuck" he rasped, "that's- fuck you're good, so good for me angel" His hips stuttered, cock twitching inside you, and your walls tightened further, ready for release.

"ca-n I cum," you begged, tears pricking at your eyes as his gaze locked onto you, "please gyu"

"cum on my cock doll, fuck, I'm so close- so close you feel so fucking good"

You squeeze him, coming undone at his words, moans dripping past your lips uncontrollably as your back arched- spine tingling from the pleasure.

He followed soon after, pulling out just as he came, hot white ropes shooting out over your stomach. The noises he made were borderline pornographic- the most perfect, erotic groans you'd ever heard, and you could've sworn you heard him whimper just after he pulled out. His body slumped beside yours, arm draped around your waist.

A minute passed in silence. All you could hear was his steadying breath as he tried to regain his composure. You sighed, holding onto the arm around you.

"fuck"

"fuck," he echoed, sighing satisfactorily "c'mere let's get you cleaned up angel"

Gently, he scooped you up in his arms, carrying you so tenderly you could melt. He made his way over to the bathroom, setting you down at the side of the tub as he ran you a bath. While the tub took its time filling up, Mingyu snagged a soft hand towel from your rack and ran it under the tap before wiping you down with the warm cloth. His actions were wordless, save for a few compliments he threw your way seeing how you shone under his touch.

His eyes, however, spoke a language of their own, the string connecting your gaze and his staying taut constantly.

'I love you.' they seemed to be saying, louder and louder despite his silence. There was a desperation in those eyes you couldn't seem to place. A longing.

Your bath was ready. Mingyu shut off the water, and eased you in, feeling how you relaxed in its warmth. He smiled softly, getting in with you right away. You could get used to this... How tenderly he held you against his chest, rubbing soothing circles into your back and shoulders. It almost made you feel special. Almost.

You still couldn't seem to shake the thought that this was a one-night-only affair. That he wasn't in love the way you were. That he would leave.

"y/n" he said, "there's something I'd like to ask you"

"go ahead 'm listening gyu"

"how do you feel-" he started, hesitating when your shoulders tensed, "how do you feel about me?"

"I-"

The words wouldn't come out.

'I love you. I've loved you for so long. I want to be yours Mingyu, I want to fall asleep with you every night and wake up with you every morning. I want to hold your hand and know that this is real- that it's you and me against the world. I want you. To be touched by you, to be loved by you.'

Your throat closed up and the tears you didn't realize you were holding back rolled down your cheeks. Alarmed, Mingyu cupped your face quickly, thumbs swiping away the tears.

"I'm sorry- fuck I'm so sorry this is too soon isn't it?" his panicked, almost guilty voice rang in your ears. "I shouldn't have assumed you felt the same, I'm so sorry y/n"

Wait what?

"you- but I- what?"

The tears had stopped. Your eyes were fixed on his guilty ones.

"I assumed you liked me too"

"too?"

"yes, too. I've liked you since forever- I thought you knew 'cause of how obvious I made it"

"too?" You were dumbfounded. Your mouth felt dry. Your heart thudded against the confines of your ribs. Your lips crashed into his, desperately, passionately.

Taken aback by the sudden kiss, a surprised gasp left Mingyu's lips.

"I like you too, idiot, love you, even" you mumbled against his lips, before he pulled you in once again for a longer, deeper kiss, just like the one you first shared.

Your breaths enmeshed, becoming one, hands holding onto one another desperately. The steady thud in your chest matched his own and you knew this was real.

"I love you more," his eyes shine with such devotion and awe, you feel the air knocked out of your lungs.

You run a finger along his defined chest, earning a shiver in response, and whisper;

"show me, then,"

A sly smile quirks up his lips and he lowers his head into the crook of your neck.

"only if you say please"

#seventeen #mingyu #mingyu smut #kim mingyu #smut #seventeen smut

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momotonescreaming · 5 months

Text

Teenage Dream - Part 4

AKA - the Jeff and Eddie have crushes on jocks series Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Jeff let his body sag as soon as he shut his bedroom door behind him, relaxing against the wood, hard and smooth behind his back. Tossing his bag in the general direction of his desk, not caring where it lands, and flopping over his bed. Still in his jeans and leather jacket, not caring in the moment.

He was finally alone.

No one watching him, no one judging him, he was finally free to relax. To think, and to feel, and to let his wandering mind loop back to Chrissy. She had talked to him. Had borrowed a pen and learnt his name. It felt impossible, a meet-cute from one of those rom-coms his mom watches. She was cute, and was right there. It felt like the start. A change. Something new. It only took until his senior year.

Even if it didn’t lead to anything — Chrissy talking to him — it still happened. The head cheerleader acknowledged him, talked to him, and was kind. She didn’t sneer, or call him a freak, or call him the wrong name. Chrissy wouldn’t, she would never — but the fear was there. Of course it was. They came from very different worlds.

Sighing, sounding entirely too wistful about it, Jeff is tempted to just continue laying there. Melt into his mattress, denim and leather digging into his skin, mind wandering. Let all the energy seep out of his body. But he knows that if he doesn’t get up now, he never will, and wearing his leather jacket to bed is going to kill his muscles. The buckles digging into his skin in the most uncomfortable places.

So he gets up, grunting at the effort, taking off his jacket and swinging it over the back of his desk chair. Lets the momentum carry him to the pile of semi-clean washing he has dumped on the floor by his laundry basket, kicks off his jeans and changes into a pair of grey sweatpants.

Absently wonders if Chrissy would let him drape his jacket over her shoulders, to keep her warm. Smelling of leather and cologne and very faintly of weed. Of Jeff. Like a distorted letterman jacket.

And then Jeff’s standing in the centre of his room, alone, sighing into the stagnant air. There’s no way that’ll ever happen. Dust swirling through the room like little cyclones, twisting and floating around him like thoughts of Chrissy.

He wanted to keep it to himself, his meeting with her, but now it all feels a little too much. The silence ringing in his ears. Buzzing under his skin. Itching and clawing its way out. Sighing, breaking the silence, Jeff goes to sort through his tapes. If he’s going to lose his shit thinking of Chrissy, at least he won’t do it in silence.

Flips through them, focusing on the sound of the plastic cases clicking together as he decides. Eventually settles on a Dio tape — one he had bought on a trip to Bloomington with Eddie. Puts the tape in his stereo, listening to the familiar sounds of the machine, as it clicks the tape on.

Lets the sound of Stand Up and Shout wash over him, as he flops back onto his bed. Laying askew, feet hanging off the edge and his head resting below his pillow. Whatever. Good enough.

The music is familiar, easy, washes through him and scratching that itch in his brain in a way that other music didn’t quite achieve. The guitar, the drums, the speed, the energy. The slow shit, modern ballads and all that was just noise. Didn’t hit quite the same. Didn’t fill the empty spaces in his brain. Each to their own, but metal was something else.

What does Chrissy listen to, Jeff wonders. Does she listen to pop, new wave, does she venture in to rock? Does she have favourite bands, sounds she can’t get enough of? Or does she listen to whatever’s on the radio? Does music move her the way it does Jeff? Or is it just something to kill the silence. What does she listen to when she works out? Does she strap on a walkman as she goes for a run?

If Jeff made her a mixtape, would she listen to it? Would she try and see what Jeff sees? Would it make her think of him?

He’d include a lot of the more chill metal songs, he thinks, ease her into it. Songs with melodic instrumental sections. A sick guitar riff so he could brag that he learnt how to play it by ear. Songs about community, and of finding yourself. Songs that hit Jeff to his very core. Songs about love.

He hasn’t wanted to admit that to himself, say that word — love. It feels strong, too much, but the emotions swirling in Jeff’s chest feel too strong for just like. It wasn’t just a passing fancy, thinking she was cute, or hot, or nice to look at. She was kind, and sweet, and Jeff was falling into infatuation. He wanted to date her, to hold her, to give her flowers and watch her cheer. He wanted to make her a mix tape and introduce her to metal.

Gareth once said that if your crush got an ugly haircut, and you still liked them — it was love. If your crush got an ugly haircut and the feelings faded away — it was just a a crush. Just like.

If Chrissy dyed her hair green and shaved half of it off he’d still think she was the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. It wasn’t just her looks (hot as she was), but her personality too. In the library she was nice to him. She smiles and waves at people. Compliments them. She was like no other.

So yes, Jeff thought she was hot, but he was trying so hard to be normal about it. Trying not to drool over her like those skeezy jocks from the wrestling team. Trying not to let his thoughts stray into territory it couldn’t come back from. She was taken. She had a boyfriend, who she loved — if their interactions around Hawkins High were anything to go by.

She blows Jason kisses from across the hall, she holds his hand as they walk through the parking lot, he holds open doors for him and she giggles.

The perfect couple. Couldn’t be Jeff, as much as Eddie tries to hype him up about it. High School is only the start, yes. Teenage relationships don’t always last, yes. But cheerleaders don’t dump their popular jock boyfriends for DnD nerds in metal bands.

He’d go to college, meet some jock girl there who doesn’t look past him, and that’s when his life would start. Him and Eddie, getting out of Hawkins. Finding people who liked them back. Because who was Jeff kidding, his type wasn’t nerds. It was jocks, and preps, and girls who were everything he wasn’t. At least Eddie was in the same boat. Made it better, knowing he wasn’t alone.

That while he was sighing over Chrissy in her cheerleading skirt, Eddie was drooling over Steve Harrington in his basketball uniform. That while he was daydreaming about holding doors open for Chrissy, about walking through Hawkins hand in hand — Eddie was dreaming about being wined and dined by Harrington, about flowers, and being swept up into his arms.

The pair of them, absolutely pathetic. Sighing, Jeff gets up to turn the tape over. Flops back down on his bed, continuing to ignore bis bag thrown onto the floor, on the homework he needs to do. He really can’t be bothered. He’s got time, he rationalises, he’s fine. He can do it in his free period tomorrow. Chrissy won’t sit with him again, he’s not that lucky. He can sit down at his same table, and work. Churn through his worksheets, draft his English essay.

So now what. He could listen to more of his tapes, try not to think about the songs he’d pick out for a mixtape. He could pick up his guitar, practice, run through songs to clear his mind of thoughts of her.

Or, he considers. He could call Eddie. See if he’s home.

He thought he wanted to keep this to himself, something special, just for him — but Jeff feels like he’s loosing his mind a little bit. He can’t stop thinking about her and he feels ridiculous. Like a hopeless romantic. A horny teen. A pathetic nerd.

Maybe talking about it will help. Quiet his mind, clear his thoughts.

He does have his own phone in his room. He’s an adult now, he said, and his dad had agreed. He needed that little bit of privacy. Security. Space just for him to talk with his friends without being interrupted. And thankfully his mom had agreed with his dad, in the end. Considering how much both his parents used the phone — and how annoying his shithead younger brothers were about it — the private line was needed.

Jeff did not want to talk about crushes, and sex, and Eddie’s big gay crush where his family could hear.

Fuck, he’s calling Eddie, isn’t he. Dialling the Munson’s number entirely on instinct, Jeff picks the phone off his bedside table and adjusts his position on his bed so he’s not tangled in the cord. He listens to the phone ringing in his ear, and tries not to fidget with the cable, stretching it out.

“Munson,” A gruff voice answers, cutting off the ringing of the phone.

“Hey Uncle Wayne,” Jeff greets the older man, hearing him scoff a laugh down the phone. He’d been calling him for as long as he’s known Eddie. The man didn’t seem to mind, and Eddie himself thought it was hilarious, so Jeff kept doing it. Calling him just Wayne felt weird. Mr Munson even weirder. So Uncle Wayne it was. “Is Eddie in?”

“Sure is,” Wayne replies, voice deep but humour evident even through the tinny phone speakers. “I’ll grab ‘im for ya.”

He assumes Wayne puts the phone down, or holds it away from his face as Jeff can faintly hear Wayne call out for Eddie. It sounds like he’s yelling through the trailer. Or over Eddie’s loud music. Probably is. Speaking of — Jeff leans off his bed to turn the volume down on his stereo. “Boy! Jeff’s on the phone.”

A rustling, a mumbling noise, and then Eddie is breathing into the phone. “Now what can I do for you, my dear Jeffrey.”

“Role reversal,” He replies, manoeuvring himself back down onto his bed. “I’m the one losing my shit today.”

“Damn,” Eddie replies, and Jeff can tell he’s smiling, even through the phone. Eddie has always been expressive — physically, verbally, emotionally — and Jeff had known him long enough that he was confident in his ability to read his best friend. “Already? Let me get comfy then.”

He huffs a laugh, an exhale of air directly down the speaker, and listens to the sounds of Eddie getting comfy, rustling papers, the screech of a chair against lino floor. He’s sat right at the trailer’s little dining table, right across from the kitchen. Always piled high with coupons and letters and other odds and ends the Munson’s hadn’t sorted through yet. It was nice, knowing exactly where he was, knowing that he knew him that well.

Eddie lets out a noise of satisfaction as he sits down, like he’s just taken a drink of ice cold water on a hot day. Jeff snorts as Eddie continues. “Now lay it on me, Jeffster, why are you losing your shit?”

“So you know how I go to the library in my free period?” He starts, laying the scene. Rustling his sheets as he props himself up on his bed.

“Like a total nerd, yes,” Eddie says immediately, although Jeff can tell he’s joking. Can hear it in his voice.

“Says the guy on his third senior year,” Jeff jokes back, entirely without malice. He hears Eddie bark a laugh, as he continues. “But anyway, it was crazy busy for whatever reason and I heard someone ask if they could sit with me because I was at the only empty table, and…”

Jeff lets the words drag off. Plays up the drama, the suspense. He wouldn’t consider himself a dramatic person, not all that outgoing, but Eddie brought it out in him. Made him braver. More willing to put on the act. Fake it ‘til you make it.

“And?” Eddie prompts, dragging out the word.

“And it was Chrissy Cunningham.” Jeff finishes, and he can feel himself smiling. Cheeks flushing, lips pulling back over his braces.

Eddie fucking shouts down the phone, not moving it away from his face to muffle the sound any, and Jeff just laughs. Absently wonders if Wayne is listening in. Can hear Eddie shouting. He probably can. He’s probably used to it.

“No fucking way dude,” Eddie replies, practically giddy with it. Jeff can hear the squeak of the chair underneath him. Can easily picture Eddie rocking in place, smiling like a demon, perched with one leg up on the chair, leaning on the table. "You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“No shit!” Jeff replies, laughing along with Eddie. “She sat at my table the whole period. Right across from me.”

“I told you! I fucking told you!” He replies. “Did I not fucking tell you?”

“You did in fact tell me.” Jeff sighs, knowing he was going to admit that Eddie was right and he was going to be so insufferable about it. He quickly continues before Eddie could say anything else. “But it’s not going anywhere, so calm down. She’s taken.”

“I will not calm down.” Eddie adds, still giddy. “This is a big moment for freaks like us. Was she nice? Did she know your name? Come on man, enjoy it. Embrace it.”

A pause, silence, as Jeff breathes down the phone before continuing. “She was super nice. She was kind, and looked cute when she giggled. Didn’t know my name though, I had to introduce myself.”

“Well they can’t all be winners,” Eddie comments, grunting as he shifted position. “Five bucks says Harrington doesn’t know my name either.”

“You know what,” Jeff replies, thinking it over. “I’ll take that bet. Henderson has absolutely mentioned you to Harrington before. If they really are as close as he says they are. He’s gotta have told him he was going to Hellfire with you.”

“Oh it’s on, Jeffward.” Eddie says. “Money on the table, shake hands, it’s on.”

Part Five

Tag List @goosesister @scarlet-malfoy @mavernanche @manda-panda-monium @yoriposts @grtwdsmwhr @panicatthediaz @m-owo-n

#stranger things #eddie munson #jeff stranger things #chrissy cunningham #steve harrington #steddie #steve/eddie #jeffingham #jeff/chrissy #My Writing #I've never written anything so fast i'm honestly amazed at myself #Teenage Dream

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satorusdiary · 1 year

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All mine

-Plug!Eren x reader

Warnings: Fluff, Protective! but chill Eren, kissing, making out, drunk college people, unwanted flirting/touching, groping, f!reader, Eren beats up a boy for you

Summary: In which a boy named Floch won’t leave you alone during a party. You think Eren isn’t looking over you, but he happens to be watching everything happen. As he observes, he notices something he doesn’t like happen infront of him, that’s when he’s on his way to you, and making sure your okay.

A/N: you and Eren are dating in this one and are happily inlove

Eren knows his girlfriend is pretty, the prettiest out of everyone in the world. As in Jeans words, his girlfriend is a bad bitch. And fucking around with a bad bitch meant immature boys, not men, flirting with his girlfriend at parties. Unknowingly, he’s the one to sit and observe and step in once something fucked up happens. Which involves, touching his girlfriend in ways she doesn’t like.

As of right now, Erens sitting on a couch by the pool table accompanied by his friends, Jean and Reiner. The three of them, watch as another boy comes up to you, asking if you’d like to dance. Obviously you say no, in the politest way you could.

When you say no the guy, he gets defensive and accuses you of lying to him. That’s when you bring your hand up showing the promise ring Eren bought you for your one year anniversary which was 2 weeks ago. You loved showing off the ring, especially in front of guys who were trying to hit at you.

You looked absolutely beautiful today, and everyday in Eren’s eyes. He falls more in-love with you as the days go by. Even if he’s not the one to seem like it, the only person who knows he’s like that is you. His beautiful, loving, girlfriend.

“You letting a ugly ass boy hit up your girlfriend, Eren?” Reiner questions, holding up a red solo cup filled with hennessy. Swirling it around as he continues to watch you deal with Floch as he’s trying to get at you once again.

Eren shook his head, and lets out a half chuckle along with tsk. It’s normal seeing down-bad men go up to you, but it’s the same every-time. You deny them, and then you brag about how beautiful and perfect your boyfriend is.

“Nah, i’m just waiting to see what y/n does.” Eren spoke, putting away the stiiizy pen into his pocket. Jean whines as he sighs. The feeling of not having a hot girlfriend kills Jean everytime, especially when he would watch one of his best friends go through what he wants.

As the scene continues to unfold. You eventually get super disgusted and begin walking away from Floch, not wanting to be around him no more thanks to his inappropriate and desperate words. When he starts following you, out of Erens sight, that’s when he gets up from the couch.

“Aight, that’s when i do something ‘bout this shit.” Eren grunts, walking towards the direction you and Floch left in.

“Don’t kill him, Jaeger!” Connie yells out from the pool table, knowing that if someone was to lay hands on you shit would go down. And not in a good way for the dude that would be flirting with you.

From your point of view, you were getting annoyed. Pushing past many drunk college students who didn’t have the minds to comprehend anything wasn’t helpful aswell.

“Dude! just leave me alone. I’m taken!” You yelled out for what it seems like the billionth time at the male. Floch rolled his eyes and pulled you back, having a tight hold on your wrist.

“C’mon baby, stop playing so hard. Y’know you want me.” Floch whispers the last thing. Your heart drops when he pulls you in closer into a uncomfortable embrace, your hands were on his chest trying to push away from him.

He continues invading your self privacy by digging his head into your neck, kissing, licking it, all of the above. Tears begin brimming up in your vision when his hand slither down to your ass. You helplessly look around to room to see if you could find anyone that you knew, but no one besides drunk college students having fun.

“Yo, what ‘are you doin?” A familiar deep voice comes from behind Floch, sending relief into your chest. Floch immediately takes his hands off of you and turns around, slightly shaking at the voice.

Once his embrace let’s loose, you run out of his arms and head towards Erens, holding him around his torso as tight as you could. Letting a few tears go freely down your cheeks.

Eren places a kiss onto your temple, and rubs his hands up and down your waist reassuring you that you were okay.

“Go back with the others, mama. I’ll meet you in a bit hm?” He hummed, waiting for you respond. He used his thumbs to get rid of the last tears that left your eyes.

You nodded your head and kissed his cheek, turning your head to look at Floch’s shaking form knowing that he couldn’t run, if he were to then shit would get 10x bad then it already was.

“Thank you baby.” You mumbled to Eren once more before walking away from the pair. You knew he didn’t want you staying around for whatever was going to happen, therefore he told you to go ahead with your friends.

luckily, you had Erens jacket on. Even if you were shaken up, you found comfort in his warm puffer jacket with his scent dazing into your senses.

“Jaeger! I-I didn’t know that was your girlfriend..” Floch stuttered as the puzzle began piecing together. When you hugged Eren, that was when Floch swore his heart dropped to his ass.

“What a stupid excuse.” Eren mumbled before walking closer, throwing a punch to the boys nose. Everyone around Eren begins distancing away from the scene, most of them staying to record. Many screams were heard inside the room. That was the last thing you heard before you headed outside to meet up with Mikasa, Annie, and Sasha.

Erens knuckles began to coat with blood, Floch’s blood. Assuming it’s from his now broken nose, or his broken jaw. Just from a few punches, Floch is knocked out. He couldn’t even fight back from the sudden punches, and since Eren was stronger and on top of him. Making him defenseless.

A distant sound of Connie cheering Eren on could be heard from the crowd. Connie had his phone up with flash, yelling “World Star!!”

Befofe Eren could land a final punch to his already swollen and broken jaw, Jean and Armin appear behind him forcing him off of Floch’s beaten, and bloody body.

“Alright! You win Eren now stop before you kill him!” Jean pleads, noticing how upset and tense Eren was. Not a single scratch being left on in. There was a chance Eren would have to make another stop by the police station once again. But it didn’t matter, only if you were safe and alright.

“Yeah! You wouldn’t be able to see your precious girlfriend if you were behind bars right?!” Armin yelled out, Eren still trying to get out of his best friends grasp.

Erens breathing gets heavy, the sounds of people cheering him on continues and gets louder. He looks around to make sure your not in sight, he feels a little bit of relief once he finds out you’re not in the crowd. He knew you didn’t like watching something like this occur, especially if your pretty boyfriend was involved in it.

“You fucker, that’s what happens when you lay your dirty hands on my girlfriend!” Eren yells out to Floch’s unconscious bloody face. Acting like he was able to hear him.

“Fuck get off me.” Eren shoves off Jean and Armin from him, frustrated. The one thing he does is begin finding you, his precious girlfriend. Armin, Jean, and a few of his other friend trail along behind him.

When he sees you, you’re sitting on a bench by the lighten up pool, accompanied by Mikasa and Annie. You were looking down at your lap, admiring your promise ring that was on your ring finger.

You notice people walking outside in the backyard, making you lift up your head to see who it was. When you see Eren, you get up from the bench and instantly run towards your pretty boyfriend who has his arms wide open for you.

You run into his arms, his hands instantly wrapped around your waist as you hide your face into the crook of his neck.

“im sorry, ren.” You pull away from him to spectate his knuckles. The redness making you look up at him with glossy eyes, and a worried expression. He smiles in return, cupping your face with his large hand. Rubbing soothing circles to your cheeks.

“It’s okay, angel. As long as you’re okay.” He props two fingers to your chin and brings his face down to yours. Connecting your lips together, sharing a sloppy kiss. His hands move from your waist to under your thighs, signaling you to jump which you do.

Now your legs are wrapped around his waist, the two of you sharing a lovingly, kiss which led onto a small make out session with your tongues fighting for dominance.

“Thank you, thank you rennie. I dunno what i’d do without you, i love you s’much.” You slurred out as you pulled away from his lips, a string of saliva trailing between you both.

He brushes his hand through your hair, giving you a peck on your forehead then a loving kiss on your plump lip.

“I love you more, mama. I’d do anything for you. you’re all mine, forever.” He motioned to the promise ring that was on his hand, and on yours. Making you smile brightly.

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cl3fairyyy · 3 months

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˗ˏˋ routine // edward nashton x GN! reader ˎˊ˗

summary // edward has always gone through life in solitude. he has the same routine, day in and day out, and he doesn't change that for anyone. he doesn't have time for friendship and looks down on his coworkers; their shallow gossip and strained smalltalk isn't worth his time. his way of thinking is soon flipped on its head when KTMJ hires a pretty receptionist to greet him every morning before work. what starts as innocent pining (as innocent as it gets for edward, anyway), soon spirals into something more, faster than he can control. alternatively, you score a cushy receptionist gig and start crushing on your cute coworker lol.

warnings // very brief mention of healed sh scars. edward and the reader smoke- reader is GN but is described as "pretty" multiple times. eddie is a little strange in this but that is just customary for him atp lol. a little angsty but mostly fluffy coworkers to more bc eddie deserves more soft fics :c no use of y/n!!

word count // 4.5k

notes // I haven't written a fic since my wattpad days so my apologies if this isn't great </3 I have been pining after the green man for far too long and have so many ideas in my system that need to come out !! I hope Edward isn't too OOC and would love any feedback on how to write him better :)) I might do a pt 2 if anyone is interested hehe

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Edward has never found any substance in socialising at work. He has never found the tedious break room small talk and uninteresting (probably fabricated) gossip that floats around the office to be very meaningful, and for the five years that he has worked at KTMJ, he has never had so much as a conversation, let alone friendship, with any of his colleagues.

His daily routine is fairly simple: wake up, go to work, come home, eat (if he remembers), and sleep. All without interacting with anyone. Edward lies to himself, convinces himself that he prefers, even enjoys, living like this. He has crawled through this city, through this life, in solitude, and he has always been fine.

But the ache in his heart and the lump in his throat when he lies awake at night, running calloused fingers over faded scars, say otherwise.

Edward is lonely.

His mind tends to wander when he turns in bed to look out the window. He watches groups of friends, drunk and stumbling down the old, cracked streets of Gotham, their rapturous (and rather obnoxious, he thinks) laughter echoing through his open apartment window. He imagines himself drunkenly walking alongside them, sharing inside jokes and funny anecdotes that make their cheeks red with laughter, and when he drifts off to sleep, he dreams of waking up in another body, another life, where he simply belongs.

He wakes up on a day like any other, in his cold, empty apartment, alone. He begins his routine, shoving a piece of expired bread in the toaster as he neatens his tie and pulls on his loafers. He is happy with this routine. He eats alone at the table, checking his watch, mindful of the 8:15 bus. He leaves his apartment and catches the bus just as it arrives at his stop. The driver, an older lady, offers him a smile. He keeps his head down. He is happy with this routine. He enters the office earlier than usual, hoping to get in some extra work to avoid staying any later than he must. He is happy with-

He pauses.

The receptionist, a woman far too old to not be retired, does not greet him with the flick of her pen as she completes the morning crossword.

The routine is disrupted.

His coworkers are crowded around his boss' door, straining to see through the tiny window separating "us" from "them." Edward's mind is clouded with confusion as he catches the eye of one of his colleagues, a man named Will, a man he can't stand, a man who acquired his position (as Edward's supervisor) straight out of college, through daddy's money and connections.

The routine is disrupted.

"Word is that we have a new receptionist." He fills Edward in. Edward wonders if he only tells him this through some feeling of obligation, rather than wanting to share the latest office gossip with him. He simply nods, making his way to his desk.

Back to the routine.

After possibly the most intimidating introduction to a boss you have ever experienced, you are given a brief tour of your new office and shown to your new desk. You are given your new tasks and set to work on your new job.

To be honest, it isn't entirely difficult. You are certainly overqualified, but you can't complain about being paid above minimum wage, in Gotham, in your twenties, for such a simple job. You remember reading that the best way to make a good first impression at a new job is to introduce yourself to your new colleagues, and, despite the anxiety welling in your throat, you put on a bright smile and set off to do just that.

For the most part, your colleagues are nice, a bit bored, but they seem interested in you and that surely must be a start, right?

The girl whose desk you're currently standing in front of (her name is Kate, you think?) perks up suddenly, seemingly remembering something. She gestures for you to sit next to her, and you do just that.

"You seem nice. Like, really nice. But you seem like the kind of person who is so nice that it borders on naiveté." You tilt your head in confusion but nod for her to continue. "I want you to, y'know, actually have a chance of fitting in here. So let me give you some advice."

She glances around inconspicuously before lowering her voice and tilting her head back ever so subtly. "That guy over there. Glasses. Yeah- okay, try not to make it so obvious that I'm talking about him. Don't bother trying to get a word out of him. The guy doesn't talk to anyone, and believe me, we have tried getting him to. I don't know if he's shy or thinks he's better than us or what, but he seriously is, like, mute. All he does is come to work and go home. He even eats his lunch at his desk."

You try and mimic her subtlety, glancing up to catch a glimpse at the desk tucked neatly in the corner, and you're met with eyes behind glasses staring right back at you. You quickly look away, your cheeks burning at the embarrassment of being caught talking about someone.

She smiles sympathetically at you.

"I know this schtick you've got going on. Introducing yourself to the office so that we all like you."

She snorts at your expression and continues.

"Hey, chill out. It's seriously endearing. I was the exact same when I started and, to be fair, it seems to be working for you. I just don't want you to get offended or anything trying to talk to Edward over there, and getting nothing out of him, y'know?"

You offer Kate a grateful smile and rise from your seat.

"Thanks for the warning. I think I'd like to at least say hi to him anyway."

All she offers you is a shrug, as if saying, "don't say I didn't warn you," as you wander over to Edward's desk.

You smile at him, introducing yourself and holding out your hand to shake. Okay, he's actually pretty cute up close, you think, with big green eyes concealed by glasses that have slipped slightly down his faintly freckled nose. He meets your enthusiasm with a blank stare and a readjustment of his glasses, and your shoulders deflate a little.

"You're, uh, you're Edward, right? That's what it says on your name tag, anyway."

Silence.

You giggle nervously.

"Well, I- anyway, I'm the new receptionist. I'm really happy to be working with you."

You're surprised at the sincerity in your tone, and Edward must be too, because you swear you notice his stoic expression falter for a second.

Your hand begins to shake as it remains in front of his face, and the air grows thick with awkwardness. It feels like every single pair of eyes in the office is on the both of you. You begin to retract your hand when Edward gingerly reaches forward and shakes it limply. His bored expression doesn't change as he does so.

"Likewise."

With that single word uttered, he carries on typing away at his computer, completely ignoring you. Your legs seem to work at their own volition as they carry you back to your desk, your cheeks pink.

Unbeknownst to you, Edward has been observing your every move since you stepped out of the boss' office. His desk is at the perfect angle, giving him a direct view of your own, and he had watched you approach all of your colleagues to give your little introduction speech. He had seen you chatting discreetly with Kate, and he had caught you peeking up to look at him. He had figured Kate had warned you to steer clear of him, and the thought had made his stomach sink.

He thought you were very pretty, and since he had first caught a passing glimpse of you, his mind instantly had began to wander to thoughts of him approaching your desk, introducing himself confidently and charming you all within your first interaction.

He had shaken his head at that, embarrassed by his little fantasy. He has never known the feeling of confidence in his life, and he had quickly resigned himself to thinking that you would be yet another coworker he would never interact with, besides a quick "good morning," and "good night," at the beginning and end of each day.

The routine continues, and he is happy with that.

The routine continues until it doesn't, until you meekly approach his desk and smile at him, and oh God up close you are so much prettier, he thinks, and then you're extending your hand for him to shake, that same dimpled smile on your face fading when he doesn't even acknowledge the action.

Of course he manages to make you uncomfortable within the first five seconds of interacting with him. Before his mind can catch up with his body, he is shaking your hand and uttering the first word he has spoken in this office in a long time.

He instantly has to break the intense eye contact he has held with you, pretending to type numbers into his computer, praying the colour of his cheeks doesn't betray him.

When you walk away he feels guilty, he wishes he could will you back to his desk so he could play off his awkwardness as a joke, so he could pretend he is someone much cooler and much more interesting than Edward Nashton.

But he can't.

He has to watch you walk away, back to your desk, your head down to hide your embarrassment.

When 5pm hits, you stand from your desk, stretching. God, that spinny chair does something awful for your back. You're packing up your things when Edward passes your desk. You offer him a smile as you wish him goodnight, fully expecting him to ignore you.

Instead, he pauses and turns to give you a small nod before exiting the building and all of a sudden it feels like your face is on fire and your heart is pounding like you've just ran a marathon.

Oh no.

Of course you get a crush on your first day, and of course it has to be on the one person in the building that has uttered one singular word to you.

You lie awake that night, tossing and turning in bed as thoughts of your colleague cloud your mind. Sure, you've always had a thing for nerdy guys, but nerdy guys who have a reputation around your office for being a complete recluse? Seriously?

But he had spoken to you, he had acknowledged your existence. So what the hell does that mean? You sigh, rubbing your eyes before popping a melatonin. Your mind is racing a thousand miles a minute and you know there is no way you're getting to sleep otherwise.

Edward's mind swarms with thoughts of you as he lies in bed, willing himself to fall asleep. He picks up his phone, reading the time, and sighs, opening up your social media page for seemingly the thousandth time that night.

He has already scrolled through your entire account, has already studied every single photo and video you have posted until he has them memorised. He swipes through pictures of you at bars with your friends, videos of you dancing on vacation with tan lines and pink cheeks, and the countless selfies you have with your dog on your page.

He imagines you introducing him to your friend group and him befriending them over drinks in your favourite bar. He imagines taking you away on lavish trips to Europe, Asia, South America, all the places you have on the bucket list posted on your profile. He imagines a domestic life built together, sharing an apartment with you and your dog, and he falls asleep with an unfamiliar warmth in his chest, hope rushing through his veins for the first time in a long time.

Over the next few months, you grow closer with your colleagues- close to the point that you even see them outside of office hours. Close to the point that, when deadlines are met and the entire office throws a party to celebrate, Kate always manages to convince you to tag along. Close to the point that, after a long week, you and the small circle of friends you have made go out for drinks to unwind- and you have even found yourself inviting your other coworkers to join you.

All of your coworkers, except one.

The guilt consumes you every time you pack up to leave, smiling and laughing with your colleagues, when you catch a glimpse of Edward hunched over his monitor, ready to log even more hours of overtime. You have always considered inviting him along, but the only words he ever utters to you are quiet greetings every morning and the occasional "good night," when he leaves the office before you do. You don't even know if he likes you.

You certainly like him.

You're sure the blush on your face is undeniable every time you accidentally lock eyes with him when you swivel absentmindedly in your chair, or when you hand him his mail (which is rare for him to receive, you've noticed). You always try and find excuses to talk to him, and every time you do, you're left stumbling over your words and pink in the cheeks while he remains completely unfazed, unbothered and silent.

You're determined to at least invite him for drinks. At any rate, if he says no, you can comfort yourself with the knowledge that you tried to develop some kind of friendship with him (while secretly hoping for more).

It is such an easy task, one you have discussed frequently with your coworkers many a time, who have repeatedly encouraged you to offer an invitation to Edward- so you don't understand why it feels like lead weights have been tied to your feet and sandpaper has dried out your mouth when you mentally prepare yourself to go and speak to the infamous office recluse. 'It's no big deal! It's just drinks with colleagues!' you remind yourself, but the rapid beating of your heart does nothing to comfort you.

You finally internally berate yourself enough to stand up and, as casually as you can, wander over to Edward's desk, a friendly smile on your face. Your shadow over his desk forces him to acknowledge you.

You clear your throat somewhat awkwardly before saying with as much (casual) enthusiasm as you can muster, "me and some of the others are gonna head out for drinks pretty soon. We'd love for you to come!"

You notice his eyes subtly squint behind his glasses as he sizes you up, before shaking his head, his gaze flickering back down to his monitor.

"Can't. Got some messy paperwork here that needs correcting, and it can't wait until Monday."

Your smile falters slightly and you manage to nod in understanding. "That sucks. We would've really liked you there. I wouldn't want it to eat up too much of your evening, so I won't keep you from it. Have a nice weekend, Edward!"

His head lifts at your mention of his name, and when you smile at him, turning to leave, he clears his throat. quietly

"I'm, ah, I'm sorry about that. Maybe some other time..."

You nod in agreement, giving him one last smile before heading out with your colleagues. Oh well. At least you tried.

Edward screams at himself internally for being stupid enough to turn you down, for having so much work on his plate that he has to reject an offer to spend time with you. His logic tries to argue with him that you are just a distraction from his greater plans, but for the first time in his life, he finds himself listening to his heart rather than his head.

The routine is disrupted.

The following Monday, instead of clocking in at 8:30am, Edward finds himself in the office at 7:45 that morning to begin his work day. When you enter the building (earlier than usual, he notes), you manage to shake off the shock of seeing anyone else here at this time, and give Edward a little wave.

You sigh as you sink into your chair, lazily replying to the emails that have piled up over the weekend. While this cushy job has its benefits, God, the actual work is boring.

You catch yourself repeatedly turning subtly in your chair to watch Edward work. Even though he's so far away, you recognise that concentrated look he has on his face when a particularly messy set of fraudulent taxes have him stumped. Before you can register what you're doing, you're walking across the empty office right up to his desk and Jesus, your hands are sweaty as hell.

You manage to discreetly wipe them on your slacks before he looks up at you, his stressed expression all the greeting you need to begin talking. "I know we usually say good morning at my desk, but you were clocked in even earlier than me this morning." Your sentence ends with an anxious giggle, and when he narrows his eyes in confusion, you continue. "I, um, couldn't help but notice that you looked a little stressed... can I get you something to help? Water, coffee, anything? I'm all finished catching up on my emails so..."

You trail off a little awkwardly and you swear you see Edward's lip quirk up in a tiny smile before returning to his usual poker face. You mentally slap yourself for expecting to get anything out of him; it's not even 9am and you've already annoyed him. Great.

"If it's really no bother... I take my coffee black, one sugar. Thank you."

He says the last part quietly, looking down. You smile, and head for the break room to get his drink, your hands shaking giddily. You have somehow gotten more words out of him in five months than any of your colleagues have in five years. You see that as a win.

Edward sees it as the complete opposite. His brain is in chaos trying to focus on work but constantly wandering back to new daydreams of you. Daydreams of living together in your shared apartment, where you make him coffee every morning and bring it to him in bed. He can't help admiring you from afar, the way your well (tight) fitting slacks cling to you in the best way, and he has to physically rest his head on his desk to remind himself of where he is before his thoughts get too carried away.

You place the styrofoam cup down in front of Edward and he nods gratefully. You take a sip from your own cup, watching him work, before you realise you're being weird, still lingering around his desk like some creep. You cough awkwardly. "I'm, uh, going to go sit back down now, let you get back to it. I hope the coffee isn't too gross."

It's perfect, Edward thinks as he watches you wander back to your desk, and well after 5pm, when everyone has left, he fishes through the trash can uncer your desk and retrieves your styrofoam cup from that morning, placing it in a ziplock bag and taking it home with him.

This is Edward's new routine. He comes into work early every day and sits in the empty office, doing as much work as he can so that he can muster up the courage to one day, finally join you after work instead of being swamped with tasks. For weeks, every Friday, you invite him to come drink with your little group, and every Friday he finds some flimsy excuse to flake on you, anxiety tightening his throat and dampening his forehead.

You begin thinking you must be bothering him- he hasn't once accepted your invitation, and you tell yourself after each awkward encounter, 'this is the last time.' Yet, each week, you find yourself stood at his desk, legs trembling and mouth dry, anticipating rejection.

Until, one Friday in late February, he gives you an awkward smile, shuffling the mess of papers on his desk.

"I, ah, managed to wrap up these returns... I'll come along, if you want me to."

You can barely believe your ears, and your shock must be evident because Edward begins to flush under your gaze. You clear your throat, a bright smile on your face as you bounce on the balls of your feet. "Oh, that's great! We're ready to leave when you are."

Your small group bursts out of the office, your noses red from the February chill. You notice Edward lagging behind a little, and slow your pace to walk alongside him.

"I'm really glad you took us up on our offer finally. We found this sweet little hole in the wall bar only a little way from here, and happy hour lasts until 9 on Fridays." You grin at him. "I know I don't know much about you, but I really think you'll like it. The vibes are super chill, and they play some decent music. You like The Cure, right?"

Edward tilts his head curiously, and you flush as you scramble to explain yourself, so you don’t come off as an actual stalker.

"I, just, um... I could hear you listening to them last week when I came into work early."

He smiles, and the sincerity of it makes your knees go wobbly.

"Yeah, hah, I- um- listened to them a lot when I was young. I guess I never really grew out of it." He chuckles nervously, fiddling with the strap of his work bag.

You find a booth in the corner, and your group crams in, sharing the latest office gossip and complaining about how heavy the workload has been recently. You find yourself sat next to Edward and you smile at him as you settle back into the cracked vinyl of the booth, sipping your drink.

"I can't imagine coming into a bar and ordering water after how much you've worked this week. How are you not halfway through a bottle of whiskey right now?" You laugh lightly, beginning to feel pleasantly buzzed. Edward readjusts his glasses and thanks God that the red LED lights hide his pink cheeks. "I'm not really a big drinker... I prefer to be in control of my actions." He pauses, eyeing you clutching your drink in his peripheral vision, before clearing his throat. "N- not that there's anything wrong with drinking. I just, uh, have never really been a fan. I don't think it tastes very nice."

You giggle, slapping his arm lightly. "You don't need to explain yourself to me, Edward. I was only kidding."

After an hour or two, and a few more cocktails, the bar begins to liven up a little. Most of your friends have gotten up to dance, but you ignore them, deep in conversation with Edward about Gotham's current political climate.

"I thought I was the only one! Seriously, that shitbag of a mayor gets nowhere near enough criticism. They're corrupt, the lot of them, and I can only hope they get what's coming to-"

You pause, realising Edward is distracted. He fidgets with the sleeve of his jacket while rapidly bouncing his knee up and down, and you notice him cringing at the volume of the music.

You lean forward, resting a hand on his arm, your voice quiet as you whisper in his ear, "wanna go for a smoke?"

Your voice is a lovely contrast to the music blaring from the speaker, Edward thinks, and he can smell your perfume with you in such close proximity. It's sweet and flowery, and he wishes he could have you this close to him forever.

He nods, quickly standing and leading you out of the packed bar. The cold air hits you like a slap in the face as you make your exit, and you immediately regret leaving your jacket on your seat as you hug yourself, trying to stay warm under the broken heat lamps.

Edward fishes a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and holds it out to you. You smile gratefully, plucking one from the box and holding it between your teeth. Your freezing hands tremble, fumbling the lighter in your hands, and you groan in frustration as the wind keeps blowing the flame out. Edward watches you from the corner of his eye and chuckles lightly, a newfound wave of confidence surging through him.

"Want a hand?"

You sigh, shutting your eyes and nodding in defeat. Edward laughs again, and it is a lovely sound; his laugh has an almost falsetto quality to it, and you can't help but smile back at him, your cheeks warm.

Edward takes the lighter from you, his other hand reaching to cup over your own, protecting your lips from the biting wind as he lights your cigarette for you.

It is such a simple action. 'There's nothing behind it!' you think, but it holds such an undeniable sense of intimacy. His warm hand lingers on yours, warming your entire body, and he doesn't break your gaze when he finally pulls away to light his own cigarette.

The two of you stand in silence for several moments, watching the smoke you breathe out dance into the night sky, disappearing from view. You feel so relaxed around him, and you turn your head to watch him study the night sky, his eyes darting this way and that before landing on you. He smiles shyly.

"I had a nice time tonight. I... honestly wasn't expecting to."

He notices your face fall slightly before he quickly continues. "I wouldn't usually call this kind of place my thing, but... I found myself really enjoying myself. The company certainly didn't hurt."

You smile at that, and he eagerly returns it.

"Forgive me if I'm overstepping, but... I'd like to take you out sometime. Just me and you, away from all the noise."

Edward can hardly believe the words coming out of his mouth, and he's convinced he's dreaming. The smile on your face only grows.

"You mean, like a date?"

The redness of his cheeks deepens, and he nods, his knees feeling weak. You begin jotting something down in your notepad before pressing a folded-up piece of paper into his hand, blowing a plume of smoke just past his face. He can almost taste the nicotine and tequila on your lips as you lean towards him, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I'm looking forward to it."

With that, you flick your cigarette on the floor and turn on your heel, heading back into the bar. Edward unfolds the slip of paper to be met with the phone number he has had memorised since your first day working at KTMJ five months ago.

The routine is disrupted.

#dano riddler #dano riddler x reader #edward nashton #edward nashton x reader #paul dano #riddler 2022 #riddler x you #batman 2022 #edward nashton x you #riddler x reader #danonation #danocel #the batman 2022 #the riddler

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oncomingnight · 10 months

Text

Yandere! Theoretical Physicist

Hello everyone, I hope you've been having an amazing day and night as you deserve. Last night, I watched Oppenheimer and it's my favorite movie of the whole year. It's the type of movie you just have to see in the cinema when you have the chance, the cast is absolutely phenomenal and the soundtrack is beyond incredible, as expected from Christopher Nolan. Now, time to talk writing! I decided to make this very specific original character, I don't think this post will get a ton of recognition but i just wanted to experiment a bit. I hope you all enjoy and never hesitate to send me a request or talk to me in my ask box. I'm here for you all :)!

Every child is naturally curious, constantly grasping at everything and questioning subjects adults have long learned about. But Hans was a particularly curious little boy, asking extremely specific and quizzing questions, stunning his parents that couldn't even muster up a joking answer. This behavior perfectly explained the educational and career path he chose later on in life.

Your husband was a highly renowned man, but that never changed his outlook on life. He was still the charming and disgustingly romantic man that hid a surprise bouquet of roses behind his back each time the two of you had a date night.

Hans isn't ignorant towards his obsessive behavior, he's known for obsessing over his theories so being overly attached to you isn't something he's particularly concerned about. You're his wife...who isn't obsessed with their wife?

Well, other women and men have no effect on him romantically or egotistically, so, sometimes when other people brag about their spouses he's just sitting there like:

"Mhm. Well, yesterday my wife-"

His friends will invite him out for drinks and will try to get him to stay till midnight and he will immediately reject. "Yeah, no, I've gotta get home to the wife."

There's nothing he loves more than eating dinner with you in his office. The atmosphere is messy, ink-stained paper, pens misplaced, discontinued files, but you make it seem like the most peaceful room in the world with your presence. As much as he enjoys his job, it's nice to get away from thinking about such grand things and relaxing with the loveliest woman to ever live.

You.

As he's giving speeches in governmental spaces, he looks for your eyes to find a piece of solace. At times his thoughts can get a bit scattered when he's in front of large crowds, so, your companionship is everything he'll ever need to keep him in check.

There's a running rumor that all theoretical physicists eventually snap and go crazy. For him, this isn't necessarily true..?

I'm a liar.

Well, he has done questionable things to many people that he has and still considers threats. He's put them through extricating "experiments" in the basement at the bottom of your shared victorian home. Experiments aren't necessarily his forte but he'll take any excuse to teach those people a life long lesson.

One night, the two of you were at a birthday party in the home of another highly renowned scientist, a friend of his. Hans decided to leave your side for not even a full minute to go and grab a plate of food for you. He rarely leaves your side but when he just so happens to do so, a random nobody trying to make a name of themselves walks over and attempts to sweep you off your feet.

Oblivious to their flirting, you participate in the conversation with friendly, simple and curt dialogue. What you don't notice is Hans staring at the two of you from the kitchen that is on the other side of the room. He was absolutely furious. On the rare occurrence he leaves you alone, someone comes and takes advantage of the situation for their filthy desires.

He walks on over with a tray filled with tea cakes, tiramisu cubes, mini crepe cakes and cheesecake bars. He wraps his free hand around your waist, squeezes and sternly asks:

"And you are?" The way Hans purposefully makes himself look more intimidating than he already is results in the third party to feel like an immediate outsider, causing them to blurt their name then scurry away.

You harmlessly tease him about being a bit jealous which ignites his dimple ridden smile before he smoothly remarks:

"Please tell me, Bärchen, would that be so terrible? You can't blame a man for fighting to keep a woman like you."

He'd be so entranced as he watched you get ready for any occasion. Putting on moisturizing cream? He's sitting with his face in his palm and observing. Slipping a dress on? He's watching with a teasing smile before offering to help.

He'll see you getting ready, slowly walk up to you as he gently runs his veiny hands up and down your arms before leaning his head onto your shoulder and whispering:

"You look so beautiful, but I'm sure you know that already, hm? Let me help you." "You know how that ends, Hans. We can't run late this time, what about your speech?" "They can wait for me. Let a man show his adoration, m'kay?"

Even when the two of you live together, he finds a way to hide gifts around the house so he can surprise you with them at the right time. There doesn't even have to be a special occasion for him to show up with an edible arrangement, a beautifully boxed gift and a bouquet of yellow roses.

He had to work long and hard to get to the place he's in today, to get the recognition he deserved. He uses his money in an incredibly smart manner. Purchasing new decor for the house and...you might not guess it....booking trips and spoiling you with presents and trinkets.

He never really flaunts the amount of money he has in public, but, your wedding costed an immense amount and he was unapologetic about it. Hans knew you deserved the royal-like marriage celebration you'd always dreamed of, and he was eager to deliver.

This post was inspired by a German actor that I have an IMMENSE crush on. His name is Matthias Schweighöfer (the blondie)

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strniohoeee · 6 months

Note

Hiii!!! Can you do one on how Matt sometimes feels a little down and likes to journal in peace so the reader always knows to leave him alone and usually goes to nicks room, and when Matt feels better he goes to get reader but they fell asleep on nicks bed and Matt carries them to his room/bed and cuddles. I know you wanted more fluff so I thought about this little idea!!! 😊

Scribbling

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Female Reader

Synopsis: Y/N and Matt are star gazing when she feels like something’s heavy on Matt’s mind. She offers him his journal and space. 📘

Warnings⚠️: None, just a cute little imagine

Song for the imagine: Kiss Me- Sixpence None The Richer

Oh, Kiss me beneath the milky twilight

Lead me out on the moonlit floor

Lift up your open hand

Strike up the band and make the fireflies dance

Matt and I laid on the lawn chairs in their yard staring up at the night sky. My favorite thing to do with Matt was watch the stars sparkle in the night sky.

I loved the way his eyes sparkled in the night sky. It made my heart flutter and a sheepish smile crawl across my face.

“How many stars do you think are out there?” Matt suddenly asked me

“Like in our galaxy or in every galaxy?” I asked him

“Mmm ours” he said looking up at the sky again

“I’d say over a billion stars” I replied

“That’s a shit ton of stars” he said giggling lightly

“It is, and that’s just a guess” I said glancing over at him

“We should buy a star, and name it together” he said looking over at me

“I’d like that” I said looking over at him giving him a smile

“What would you name it?” He asked me

“Mm I’m not too sure, maybe stary?” I said giggling

“And I thought I was the boring one” he said laughing

“Hey that’s not nice” I said rolling my eyes at him in a playful manner

“How about buddy?” He asked

“And stary is boring?” I said laughing

“Oh whatever” he said laughing at me and rolling his eyes in a playful way

Matt got silent, and continued to look at the sky blinking slowly. I knew he was deep in thought, and it made my heart warm.

“Penny for your thoughts?” I whispered to him

“Nothing really, just taking all this in. My life, my career….you” he said back

“That doesn’t seem like nothing” I said back

“Well yeah, but you know it’s just my constant thoughts” he said smiling

“Feeling okay?” I asked him

“Yeah I’m good” he said looking at me and giving me a reassuring smile

“You seem a bit down lately” I responded back

“I wouldn’t say down, but maybe not myself” he said looking at me

“You should write” I replied

“Write? I haven’t written in weeks” he said

“That's perfect. I know writing helps you! I’ll get your journal for you” I said getting up

I walked back into the house grabbing Matt’s journal from his room, and his favorite black pen. I walked back out and handed the book to Matt

“I know you enjoy to write while alone, I’m going to head inside” I said kissing him

“You don’t have to go” he said looking at me

“No it’s okay. Enjoy your alone time” I said running my hands through his hair

Matt nodded at me, giving me a half tooth smile before opening his journal. I turned on my heels and walked back into the house

I walked up to Nick's room lightly knocking to see if he was awake. I heard a whispered “come in”, and I opened the door letting myself in, and shutting the door behind me.

“Hey” I said slipping my slides off

“Hey Y/N” he said smiling at me

“Can I hang with you?” I asked

“Of course! Matt fell asleep?” He asked moving over on his bed to make space for me

“Oh no, he’s journaling, and you know he prefers to be alone” I said sitting on his bed

“Oh yeah” he said nodding his head

“What you watching” I asked him covering my legs with his sheets

“I just watched an episode of Love is Blind, but I wasn’t feeling it” he said shrugging his shoulders

“This last season was so drama filled I didn’t like it” I said

“I know it’s like it’s this a dating show what is going on” he said laughing

“Dude for real” I said

“Want to watch a movie instead?” He asked me exiting out of Netflix

“Yeah I’m down” I said propping a pillow up to lean on

“What are you thinking?” He asked

“Mmm Stand By Me?” I asked him

“Yes let’s do it” he said getting excited

Nick put the movie on, and we watched occasionally while having conversations.

“Hey, is Matt okay?” I asked him

“Of course he is, why wouldn’t he be?” Nick asked concerned

“I figured you’re his brother, so he’d tell you something more than me. He told me he just hasn’t been feeling like himself” I replied

“I just think with us getting more popular and our lives moving faster he’s a bit scared he’s going to lose you” he replied

“Why would he think he’d lose me?” I asked getting sad

“You know his anxiety, he thinks you’ll get bored of him having to work so much, and you’d leave him” he said back

“I’d never do that” I said letting my face fall into a frown

“I told him that, but you know how Matt gets once he’s in his head” Nick said offering me a reassuring smile

“I guess that’s true” I said smiling lightly at him

Nick and I finished Stand By Me and put cartoons on, but eventually we both fell asleep. I hadn’t realized how long Matt was outside writing, or how long I’ve been asleep.

In a groggy state I saw Nick's door open, and the light from the hallway flooding in. I didn’t think much of it.

I felt myself getting lifted off the bed, and I woke up a little bit. Wrapping my arms around Matt’s shoulders

Matt brought me down to his room and placed me in his bed putting the covers over me.

“Matt?” I questioned as he shut the light off

“Yeah” he said in a whisper

“Are you feeling better?” I asked as I turned over to the feeling of the bed dipping in

“Yes baby” he said fully laying on the bed and placing the covers over himself

“I love you, and I want you to know I’d never leave you” I said pulling him in to me

“I guess…I guess I just get so scared that you’d get tired of me, and would want something else with someone else” he said wrapping his arm over my waist

“I would never do that you’re the man of my dreams” I said snuggling my face into his neck

“I love you” he said kissing my head

“I love you too” I said inhaling his scent

“Get some rest” he said running his hands up my back

“I like the name buddy” I said

“What?” He asked laughing, thinking you were sleep talking

“For our star together, I like the name buddy” I said again

“Oh…okay my love. We can name it whatever” he said giggling and pulling my head in closer to him

I giggled lightly, and slowly let the sleep take over my body. My body falling limp against Matt’s as my breathing slowed down.

Falling asleep in the arms of the love of my life…what a dream.

The End

This idea had me kicking my feet and giggling. Whoever requested this I hope you loved it, and I love you 😭🖤🖤

-J💅🏽

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets imagines #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo imagines

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billthedrake · 4 months

Text

HALL PASS

Story idea from @aestheticsupremacy

It was still summer warm as the two lacrosse jocks walked across campus after practice. Brian was going on about the chick he had a date with late that evening and was teasing Jake.

"Dude... if you ever wanted pussy, you'd be so set. Girls fucking love gay guys."

Jake laughed, his blond hair still on the lighter side from summer beach time. He and the star attacker got along great because they never BS-ed each other. "Bro, I don't think it works that way," he said, flashing his dimples. "Besides, I think all those sorority girls want a gay pal they can go to the clubs with. I can't dance worth shit."

"You can't," Brian grinned. "You got the moves on the field but, fuck..."

Both guys laughed as they entered the residence hall, one of the nicer ones where a lot of the athletes lived.

"Hey Jake!" the student worker at the front desk said when he saw the two jocks. "Some mail came for you."

"Mail?" he asked as the walked up to the desk. Normally, mail got delivered to their mailboxes, which Jake didn't check regularly. Who the fuck sends mail these days anyway, other than advertisers?

The desk guy nodded. "Yeah, certified or something. Looks important." He reached over and pulled out a document sized cardboard envelope.

"Hey, I'll catch ya later, Hoss," Brian said as he bumped fists with his teammate buddy.

"Yah," Jake said, then looked back down at the envelope. There was a familiar return address. It was his dad's work. Jake's father was a high-powered executive - not Fortune 500 but CFO for a top financial firm. Leave it to Dad to send paperwork in hard copy. Jake tried to rack his brain to guess what document was so urgent, but maybe it was some school form he needed to sign. Maybe Jake should take more responsibility for those things, but his dad tended to look after the details.

"Thanks, Mitch," he told the desk guy, then went to the elevators to go up to his room.

It was quiet in his room, since his roommate had taken off Thursday afternoon to go home for a long weekend. He got along well with Ed, a varsity baseball player, but they weren't real tight. And Jake liked having the alone time and privacy sometimes.

The lacrosse jock set down his phone and keys and shook his head with a chuckle as he opened the envelope. "You're so fucking old school, Dad," he said aloud. "I love it."

It wasn't a form inside, but instead there was a linen-white stationary with his Dad's company logo and his father's name and title embossed. "From the Desk of Steven J. Weir."

It was what was printed below that made Jake's heart stop.

"Dear Mr. Wier:

This letter serves as official notice that Jacob Peter Weir has his father's permission to have sex as often as he likes and with whomever he likes, from the date of August 20, 2023 to May 14, 2024. This arrangement will be extended in subsequent years unless the two parties renegotiate their terms.

sincerely,

Steve Weir"

There was his father's recognizable wide, cursive signature, undoubtedly written with one of his favorite blue-ink fountain pens that his family had given him for Christmas.

Jake was rock hard. "Fuck," he hissed.

Only then did he realize there was something else in the envelope. He reached in and pulled out three photographs, each 8x10 glossy portraits of this father. They were different poses of his dad in business attire, like professional headshots for a company website or something.

"Got your package," the jock texted his father.

It took a second but then a message came up from Dad: "You able to Facetime?"

Jake got a big grin as he hit the dial button to video call his father. His heart jumped a little as the image filled his phone screen. His dad was in his C-suite office and looking handsome as fuck in his tailored suit as his own horny grin matched his son's.

"Hey Sport," he said. "Looking good." He leaned back in his swivel chair and angled the phone to give Jake a better view of his suited upper body. He had a good knowledge by now of what pushed his boy's buttons.

"You too Dad," the jock hissed, reaching down to paw his crotch again. "I can't believe it's only been 24 hours since I've seen your face... fuck."

His father laughed. Because Steve felt the same way. He knew it would be hard when Jake went off to college, but he was going through sexual withdrawal in addition to the normal empty nest syndrome.

Only now his bright smile got a hint of nervousness. "What did you think of what I sent you, son?"

Jake felt that constriction in his throat. Sorta like the first time he knew he was gonna fuck his dad... that combination of sheer horniness and disbelief it was gonna happen.

"You know, Dad," the 19-year-old smirked, "A hall pass isn't an actual piece of paper."

Steve's brown eyes seemed bright. Happy. Excited. "I wanted to make it official. For you. For us." The exec was definitely getting that bedroom voice, and Jake could tell by the movement in his dad's upper body that the man was reaching down to unzip and haul out his cock.

For his part Jake tugged down his shorts with one hand to free his junk, which was firming up real fucking fast. His father had given him the encouragement to freeball it, and it was now Jake's preferred way of casual dress. It made him feel free and sexual.

Jake prided himself on the sexual confidence he'd learned to project with his dad, but times like this he still felt unsure, deep down. "I told you, Dad. I don't need to have sex with other guys."

"You're 18, Sport," his dad said resolutely. "A college kid should be spreading his wings."

Jake got a playful grin. His right hand was working up and down his bone while his left hand held the phone. "You really want me to fuck other guys?" he asked. Pointed. Challenging.

Steve shook his head no. "Honestly, no. I don't. But I want you to lead the life that's going to make you happy." His own fist was working up and down in his lap. "I want you to become your own man, Jakey."

Something about that nickname drove the jock wild. He felt a spurt of precum in his palm. "You think sending me 8x10 glossies is gonna make me happy," he hissed. Jake's tone was halfway between a statement and a question.

Steve loved watching his son get in horndog mode. He'd like to think he passed that on to Jake genetically, but something about the kid's sex drive seemed innate. And all Jake.

The exec's voice got low and gravely. "You tell me, son. Did they make you happy?"

Jake just let go of his prick and angled his phone down to capture the hard teen bone that stood up long and rigid. "This is the reaction those pics got." He pulled the phone back up to see the amused and pleased look on his father's face.

"I'm glad," Steve said. Then with a pause, he angled the phone to show Jake his own fatherly prick, standing out from his unzipped suit.

"I wish I could suck that, Dad," Jake said, enjoying the freedom to talk aloud like this. "I wish I was there right now."

"You primed for some office sex, Sport?"

"Fuuuckk, Dad." Jake's fist was now steadily pumping his jock bone. "I'm still pissed off you won't let me fuck you there."

That got a laugh out of his father. The 49-year-old was even more handsome when he smiled. "You're a spoiled brat, you know that?"

"Fuck yeah I am," Jake shot back, getting into the zone with the teasing sex talk with his father. It came to them so fucking easily. "Something about nailing your dad regularly will make you that way."

That got a soft growl from the executive, and Jake watched as his father reached up to flip his tie over the shoulder of his suit coat, getting it out of the way.

"Damn, you gonna cum on your shirt today, Dad?"

Steve shook his head. "Hopefully not... but just in case. You get me so worked up, Sport." Off screen Jake knew his father had gone back to stroking his hard dick.

"So, Dad... if I take you up on that hall pass... what are you gonna do?"

"Whaddya mean, Jakey?"

"I mean..." the teen's own fist was working up and down his cock. "Does that mean you get a hall pass, too?"

"That's not part of the deal," Steve said, his brown eyes now wide with excitement. "But Buddy... I honestly don't know how I'm gonna get through this year. I guess I'll be doing a lot more of what I'm doing right now."

That got a matching growl from his son, whose hand moved faster and faster on his prick. "A fucking waste of dad cum."

That got a grin from Steve. "You like my sperm, huh, Jakey?"

"Can't get enough, Dad," came the immediate response. For a confident top when it came to fucking, Jake loved to taste his dad's prick and to eat his father's semen. When he wasn't sucking his dad off, he'd be licking the cum off the man's well-fucked body.

The jock felt another spurt of precum when his Dad brought the phone down close to his crotch, that solid, thick seven incher sticking out from the unzipped suit trousers.

"That's my dad," Jake growled. He'd have to find a way to have phone sex more often.

"Wanna cum for me, Jakey?" Steve asked, his voice signaling he was already on the edge.

"Nah," the jock said. "Hold off one second," he urged. He set down the phone and stripped off his T-shirt and kicked away his lax shorts. He then angled the phone just right on his desk and stepped back. Even from the distant view, he could see his dad's face will up the phone screen.

"Damn..." Steve growled. "That's my boy."

Jake felt fully alive, head to toe, as he stroked his cock and showed off for his father. He knew he was a good looking stud, with a great toned, athletic body. But his father's approval made him feel that much studlier.

"So Dad..." the teen asked. "If I used that hall pass, you wanna hear about the guys?"

"I don't know, Sport," Steve said with visible mixed feelings. "I'll let that be your call, OK?" He watched his son intently, as if it was the last chance he'd see Jake naked and hard. "I almost didn't send it," he confessed.

That made his son grin and Jake removed his fist from his dick, showing off the erection by swinging it side to side. "Yeah? It was so fucking hot to read it, Dad. You know, that you'd even send it."

"I'm glad, Jake," came Steve's reply.

"We're you hard writing it?" the son asked.

Steve's voice got soft and low. "I was, son."

"You want me spreading my wings in college, huh?" Jake's hand resumed its stroke. He really wanted his dad to cum first today but he didn't know if he'd be able to hold off.

Fortunately, Steve was getting into the zone now. Jake could only see his face, not his cock or masturbating fist, but he recognized that horny tone in his father's voice. "God, Jakey, you're such a fucking stud... seems wrong if you can't enjoy college a little, you know?"

Jake grinned, getting into a slow stroke that seemed to keep things on the boil without erupting over. "Maybe I'll line up some hot coach to fuck... but you know if I do, I'll be thinking of you the whole time, Dad."

That got an audible groan from Steve. Which only encouraged Jake to go further.

"Yeah, I'll be balls deep in some daddy ass and have to shut my eyes so I can think of my father... of fucking you..."

"Yes," Steve hissed. He was getting closer to cumming.

"of bending my dad over his office desk and pulling down those suit pants of yours..."

"You're not gonna stop pestering till you get that will ya, Jakey?"

"No, sir. I wanna get my way. Nail you hard to that expensive desk of yours... in your expensive suit... to thank you for all that expensive tuition you paid over the years."

This was new territory for the Weirs. They'd never talked about money, other than some of Steve's jokes about how much Jake's private school cost and some practical dad-son talks about personal finance. But Jake was bringing it into the sex talk and both men were surprisingly turned on by it.

"FUCCK!" Steve cried a half second before choking his reaction to be quieter in his office.

"Go for it, Dad!" the lacrosse jock said more openly. He stepped up closer so he could see his dad's face as he rode out an intense orgasm. "Nice!"

Steve's face was flush red as he caught his breath. "Goddamn, I needed that," he said. Then playfully he tilted his phone down. Huge splotches of his pearly white seed dotted his dress shirt after all.

"Cumming!" Jake cried, unable to hold by his ejaculation now. Steve had to look, had to watch his Jakey in full nut. It was just a beautiful sight. The only thing more beautiful was watching Jake orgasm as he was buried deep inside his father.

"Attaboy, Sport," he encouraged. "Goddamn, that's a huge nut."

Jake grinned as he felt the aftershocks. Playfully, he squeezed out dribbles from his long piece of jock meat and brought it up to his lips to taste. Not his dad's but a second best. Jake just loved the flavor of cum.

He could now tell his father was wiping off the cum from his shirt and his cock before pulling the phone back.

"That was incredible," Steve said.

"I'll say. I'll have to thank Rich for giving me the free time," Jake laughed.

"Is he away?"

Jake nodded. "All weekend. Maybe we can go long and deep this weekend, you know, edge a little."

Steve grinned. "I'll try, Sport.... awful hard to last with you, you know."

"Yeah, I know," Jake agreed.

His Dad seemed happy and yet sad at the same time. "Listen, I should go."

"Yeah," Jake said. "I need some dinner."

"I miss ya, Sport," Steve said. "So much."

"Miss ya too, Dad."

****

Steve felt nervous all Saturday. Jake had suggested they wait till later in the day for phone sex. The father tried to kill time with household chores and a super long session at the gym.

"You're a fucking mess, Steve," he said to himself as he drove home from the fitness center where he'd been spending a lot more time since the divorce and especially since he and Jake started fooling around. It felt wrong to be so attached to his own son, and yet he was.

There was a package on his front porch. FedEx Saturday delivery. Steve picked it up.

"What the fuck?" Steve laughed as he saw his son's dorm as the return address. "That little bugger."

As he opened the door and stepped in, the man squished the sides of the plastic package-envelope. It was soft inside. Steve opened the end with the pull tab.

As he pulled out the fabric, Steve Weir recognized the shorts immediately. They were a well-worn pair of Jake's high school lacrosse shorts. Wadded inside was a worn jock strap.

"Jesus," Steve hissed with excitement. Maybe Jake wanted him to have these for their session today. Or maybe this was just for the times it was Steve, alone in his bedroom, imagining a grown son who wasn't there with him.

Either way, Steve knew both the shorts and the jock were gonna be crusted with his own cum before long.

It was only after a second that he noticed scraps of paper on the floor. They'd fallen out, hand torn.

Steve immediately sensed what they were, and a quick look confirmed it. It was the hall pass he'd sent Jake.

"Man, buddy," he said aloud in the quiet room as he pulled out his phone. He had to call his son.

"Hey Dad"

"Oh, Jakey..." Steve said.

"You got it."

"Yeah, I got it," his dad replied. "You're not doing this just to make me happy are you?"

"Maybe," Jake said. "But not really. I don't know, Dad. I just realized I'd rather have blue balls than fuck a substitute you, you know?"

"Sport, that's the most fucking romantic thing anyone's ever said to me," Steve beamed.

That made his son laugh. "Yeah, that's me, one romantic fucker... just promise me one thing, Dad."

"Anything," Steve said.

"We gotta find away to see each other through the semester. Yeah, I know you want me to go off and be my own man. But I can't wait till Thanksgiving. For real, Dad."

"Yeah, we'll make it happen. I'll come down next week. And fly you up whenever you want. Promise." This was a backpedal from the promises Steve made himself when Jake went off, but he realized he was happy changing his stance.

"Cool. God, Dad, I love you."

"Love you too, Jakey," Steve said. He looked down at the scraps of paper and everything they represented. "And son... next time you're here, I'll let you fuck me on my desk."

#drakestories

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vernons-girl · 3 months

Note

Hiii~

I just read your few works and i’m obsessed~ would you mind writing mingyu and dino which who both like female reader but she only choose one? With slight suggestive hehe thanks🩷

she chose me | kim mingyu & lee dino (college!au)

fluff, suggestive at the end (!! making out and dry humping!!) ( sorry i got carried away)),w.c:1k1

a/n: i wrote this not really knowing where it was going but i hope you'll like it nonetheless 🫶🏻

In their university, Mingyu and Dino were known for their contrasting personalities. Mingyu, with his tall stature and gentle demeanor, exuded a charm that drew people in effortlessly. Dino, on the other hand, was the epitome of energy, his infectious laughter filling every room he entered.

However, it did not stop you from forming a wonderful bond with the two men, the three of you quickly becoming really good friends.

But as your bond grew stronger, so did their feelings for you.

But you didn't know that yet.

And so they found themselves caught in an unspoken rivalry. Mingyu would cook for you, open doors, get your chair, hold your umbrella, truly the epitome of a gentleman, while Dino would always go out of his way to make you laugh with even the most far fetched jokes.

Unbeknownst to them, you cherished their gestures of affection, secretly very much enjoying the attention they showered you with. But as the days turned into weeks, you realized that your heart was torn. Your feelings confused you. Were the two men just really good friends? Was there something more ? If so, with who ? You couldn't tell.

But as you found yourself alone with Mingyu and Dino one fateful afternoon, the tension between them palpable, you struggled to find the words to express your feelings.

"I... I have something to tell you both," you began, your voice barely above a whisper. "I value our friendship more than anything, I'm sure you both know that. But I can't shake the feeling that something feels.. I don’t know.. different?" Mingyu and Dino exchanged a knowing glance, their expressions a mixture of hope and fear.

"And what do you mean by that?" Dino inquired, a glimpse of hope in his eyes. Mingyu watched you intently, awaiting your answer.

"I feel like there are more than just friendly feelings involved, you know?" you said, now slightly unsure of yourself.

"On who's part?" Dino asked immediately.

"Everyone's." you said confidently.

Mingyu hummed, crossing his arms over his chest in thought while Dino looked like a kid in a candy store.

"Do you - I mean do any of you guys like me?" you asked, now feeling weirdly uncomfortable.

“Yes." both of them replied at the same time, looking straight at you.

"Oh.." you let out.

Did you expect this ? Not really.

Did it make it hard for you ? Definitely.

"You don't have to give anyone an answer now, you can take your time." Mingyu reassured, "That is if you like any of us." Dino agreed with a nod, although he looked a bit disappointed at the prospect of having to wait to find out who you would choose.

"We'll be here for you, no matter what you decide." Mingyu finally said.

Weeks passed since that day, and you found yourself spending more time with both Mingyu and Dino. Yet, despite their unwavering support and seemingly endless patience, you couldn't shake the feeling that you were leaning towards one of them.

Everything became clear one evening as you were working on a school project with him.

Sitting at the same desk, the feeling of his thigh brushing against yours had your heart pounding in your chest, the hand holding your pen tightening.

"Are you okay?" he asked, pulling you out of your trance, his hand now placed on your thigh, squeezing the flesh softly.

The action made your face heat up instantly as you stumbled over your own words :

“Um, yeah, it’s just - I was thinking.” you said.

He hummed, his face tilting and inching closer to yours, his hand still on your thigh.

“About what?” he asked, his breath hitting your lips.

“You.” you breathed out, nervousness obvious in your voice.

“Oh yeah?” he replied, a smirk apparent on his features.

You nodded, your hand covering yours on your thigh.

“What else?” he teased.

Your lips were now merely a few inches away as you whispered, “I thought about you kissing me.”

“May I?” he asked, his other hand reaching out for your face as he delicately placed his warm palm against your cheek.

“Yes.” you simply said.

And that is all he needed to lean in even closer and finally close the gap between the two of you before kissing you with fervor, all his feelings being poured out into the kiss after waiting so long for this. To finally have you.

You kissed him back with just the same enthusiasm, your arms sneaking to wrap around his neck.

He swiftly moved you from the chair next to him onto his lap, making the whole thing easier for the both of you.

One of your hands found its way in his hair, slightly pulling at the roots, showing your excitement.

The situation escalated quickly, you thought. But you couldn’t care less. It felt right. It felt good.

As your lips parted, a rush of emotions flooded through you, mingling with the warmth of his touch. His eyes, filled with adoration, met yours, and in that moment, you knew you had made the right choice. It wasn't just about the physical attraction or the excitement of the moment; it was about the connection you shared, the way he made you feel understood and cherished.

"I've been wanting to do that for so long," he whispered in between kisses.

You couldn't help but smile, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you. "Me too," you confessed.

You had thought about what it would feel like to be in this situation with Mingyu, but this was so much better than what your mind had made you think.

His touch made your skin burn, his hand traveled down your top to caresse the soft skin there while he slipped his tongue past your parted lips, eluding a moan from you.

The kiss was messy yet passionate, the occasional pants and moans coming from the both of you.

You didn’t think you guys could get any closer than this as the one hand of his that was holding your face moved to your hips, pressing you down onto him even more.

Mindlessly, you started moving against him, a moan resonating from the back of his throat at your action.

“Fuck, he panted, do it again.” and so you did.

You felt hot, not only because well, everything about this was, but because of him.

It made you feel so good.

You two finally took a moment to catch your breath and well, cool down.

You melted in his embrace as he rubbed his hand up and down your back.

He broke the silence first :

“Are you gonna tell him?” he asked.

“Yes I will.” you reply between pants.

“What will you say?” he urged.“That I choose you, Mingyu.” you finally said, all doubts now gone from your mind as the man below you smirked in triumph, knowing he was the one you chose.

#seventeen #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen reactions #seventeen x reader #seventeen smut #mingyu #mingyu imagines #mingyu scenarios #mingyu x reader #dino #dino imagines #dino scenarios #dino x reader

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johnnys-breastmilk · 2 years

Text

lost in reality | perv!peter parker x gender-neutral!reader

a/n — this is not what i usually post! there was going to be more smut but i didn't know how far to go with it, so if anyone wants to see something more extended, let me know! (Peter is a bit of a perv in this but i tried to make him get his comeuppance) gender-neutral, i think

warnings — smut! 18+, some brief facefucking, gore (sorta mild, but don't read if you don't like it!)

summary — Peter uses the reality stone to practice his pickup skills. With such a powerful device at his disposal, what could go wrong?

words — 3.7k

~~~

A mesh of red and blue ambled to the quarters of the Avenger's compound. No rush nor worry affected Peter as he kept one foot light over the other, heading into each step, furthering him down the hallway. It was another neighborhood saved and another day where he would be free from the thoughts of letting his powers go to waste, and his life could finally regress into normalcy for the start of the new day. While he had a kick in his step from how smoothly the night had gone—and how much his mentor acknowledged the fact—Peter felt the need for something a little more caffeinated to help him instead.

As Peter returned from his latest venture, taking no rush to get to his room, you were on your way out of the resident android's room. In your hand, a pad of Stark Industries-branded notepad paper with all but one of the Avengers' coffee orders scribbled down filled it. You would not be in Vision's room with the question of coffee being the reason, something he was physically incapable of drinking, but Wanda frequented the room, and it was likely that she was in there. You were right to assume that, and now, you planned to check the door just further down the hall to see if Peter was around.

It turned out that you did not need to go far; the bright colors of his suit caught your eye the second you stepped out into the corridor. Anything resembling Peter's mood of being on top of the world was gone, and so was that little kick that pushed him further—you could almost see him lose it in his eyes once he saw you, even from afar. You approached him with one thing on your mind, the pen and paper used to record everyone's order at the ready.

"He-," he cleared his throat before lowering the pitch of his voice, "Hey."

There was an awkward silence between the following words until you reminded him by tapping your pen to the side of the notepad to draw his attention to it and speaking up, "Your order?"

"What?" He was already blowing it. Peter glanced down to his red-spandex feet and then back to you, his voice returning to its natural pitch, "Oh, yeah, uh—"

Peter paused. He realized he did not know what he wanted, and while you found the evident attempt to appear cool somewhat endearing, you could have already been heading out to get coffee for everyone by now. Almost by reflex, you started to tap the pen against the nearly completed list of coffee orders ranging from simple menu items to oddly specific modifications to non-existent drinks. And in seconds, the pen slipped from your grasp and unceremoniously landed on the laminate of the hallway floor.

"Shit," you reached down to grab the ballpoint, but Peter stopped you.

"I'll get it."

He attempted to bend over, only to find his hand stuck to the wall. Peter quickly stood straight, subtly tugging his hand away from the wall without tearing a new hand-shaped hole in the plaster and paint. In his panic, Peter's hand stuck itself to the wall, and no matter how hard he tried to pull away from it, his hand wouldn't budge. That left you to get the dropped pen, reaching for it without the trouble of spider-centric powers messing with you.

You looked to Peter, scribbling down his name next to Tony's order, "I'll just get you what Tony gets and leave you alone with your hand. See you later, Peter."

With that, Peter was left alone and sufficiently embarrassed as you strode down the hall, and, finally, his hand let him free once you were gone. He scuttled to his room in a bout of shame and locked the door, heading to his mirror with a plan to practice asking you out. It was a simple mirror resting on the opposite side of the wall that had betrayed him, even if it was an inanimate object that could neither sway nor influence his spider abilities. He planned on using the reflective rectangular sheet as a stand-in for you but decided to change himself into something that didn't remind him of the awkward encounter he had moments ago.

Now, he stared at himself in the length of the full-body mirror, dressed in a tee sporting Midtown's gold and navy-blue colors and a simple pair of beige cargo pants. It was more on your level, casual clothes that were unlike the striking symbolism of his superhero suit. Peter hoped it would make him feel more comfortable talking to you, as he wouldn't discern the need to be perfect in everything he does around you. He could be Peter.

The first words he spoke to himself in the mirror were natural, not meant to sound broody or cool. It was how he usually talked: voice cracks and diffidence-galore, "Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to swing me to get coffee with you?"

Peter realized his slip-up and started the question over again.

"Oh my God, that's so funny that you get coffee!" He placed a hand over his chest with a fake smile to match, "I love caffeine and wanted to know if you would drink me. I mean, drink it with me?"

“Hey, I was just in the neighborhood—saving it, and all. Coffee, you-me? Then, we could come back here for. . .” He paused, knowing that he could never be that smug with you—he could barely get his powers to work! How would the Parker-Charm not blow up on ignition? “Okay, dial it back, Pete.”

"I'm hopeless," Peter let his head fall, staring at the floor. He could hardly watch himself fumble in the mirror, but the glint of a red sheen in the mirror pulled him back—the reality stone, sitting on one of the few bookshelves resting against the walls of his room. This one housed various meticulously assembled Star Wars-themed Lego sets, and the stone quickly became an amenity on the set of Boba Fett's Starship. Could he use it for this, of all things? If he did use it, it would only be for a couple of minutes. For practice, he told himself.

Many people would probably ask why a teenager would have one of the most mighty pieces of rock sitting on a shelf in his bedroom, and well, Peter wouldn't know the answer himself as to why he was allowed to keep it. According to Tony, he was a good kid, and the rest of the team knew he wouldn't use it for anything malicious, like obliterating half of all human existence. So, it was a souvenir, a relic that Peter never utilized for anything apart from letting it be some seriously cool decor and a piece he constantly bragged about to his only two friends.

He turned away from the mirror, retrieved the stone from its entrapment in the plastic bricks, and returned to his full-length reflection. The jagged edges dug into the soft inside of his palm in retaliation to the pressure as he squeezed it with a closed fist. With a single thought—one that held details of nearly everything about you—a soft ring of smoke formed a couple of feet away from him on the carpet. His heart thrummed as it quickly moved upward, revealing your form as it went. After a few moments, the puff of smoke faded as it rounded your head, topping off the manifested version of yourself.

Nothing could compare to the real you, but this was close.

The imagined version of you standing before Peter looked like the spitting image of you, almost to the point where, if dressed the same, it would be impossible to tell the two of you apart. Almost. But, there was one thing that let Peter tell the visually deceitful version of you apart from the real one: he couldn't hear a heartbeat. He figured that, while you looked the same on the outside, the inside was missing a few vital features of the real you.

Regardless, Peter struggled to remember that information since your lesser interpretation was still stunning enough to make his heart sink into the never-ending pit in his stomach. His feelings got the better of him, and Peter started his practice in err from the moment he opened his mouth.

He held the stone tight, waving his other hand to you, "Hey—hi, do you know who I am?"

"Yeah, you're Peter." You stated it as if he should have known that already, and he noted it. From what he could tell, you had at least some part of the memory of your actual self, so maybe this version of you could provide an accurate reaction to asking you to get coffee with him.

"Okay, cool. Cool. Yeah, that's. . . cool," Peter trailed.

"Why do you keep saying cool?"

The only problem was that you were real. Unduly real. Down to the slightest mannerisms that anyone but Peter would be able to catch when they spent time with you, and with your stunning looks and perfect quirks brought about by the stone, Peter could remember everything about you. He could hardly hear the absence of your heartbeat from his' sonority, ultimately distracting himself from his original intent.

"So, what did you wanna ask me?"

"You. . . you ask a lot of questions. But, I wanted to know if you could—"

Peter was finally going to get the words out, albeit to someone who was only pretending to be you. He wouldn't have to worry about finishing that project he procrastinated on—this would be his big success of the day. But his web-shooter had gone off erroneously across the room, spraying against the walls and pouring onto the floor from its canister. He jumped away from the source and nearly dropped the stone in the process.

Peter's mind was fleeting, even his rehearsal was going wrong, and he immediately thought of an old trick for speaking to people that he hadn't needed since a young age—he imagined you in your underwear. He didn't mean for it to happen, but if he thought it, the stone made it a reality for as long as he held the little rock. He watched as a red puff of smoke took your clothes into the air, vanishing from your body in less than a second. Underneath, a simple pair of boxer briefs clung to your nether region. Maybe it wasn’t all about the practice to Peter. His mind had thought of this, so it couldn't be that bad to indulge in it.

"Could you come over here?" He asked, throat dry. He needed to feel you to confirm he had not gone completely insane from one too many hits on the head. Peter defeatedly took a few steps to his bed, sitting down on the edge of it. "Please?"

His heart pounded with each step you took, accepting his wish to draw near. Peter could not help but watch your vulnerability follow ostensibly close behind. In just one beat, you stood directly in front of him. He watched your knees rise and fall on either side of his legs as you sat on his thighs. Peter felt the warmth of your presence, the surprising weight of you on his hairless and sinewy thighs, even if you were empty inside.

Peter was bristling, brown eyes wandering over your exposed form. His body felt immovable, no matter how much he wished to drop the stone and watch you vanish. His head was the only thing not to freeze, the rest of his body turning into a well-sculpted monolith. His jaw moved with a bit of tension, "I didn't ask you to do it like this."

"No, but you thought it."

"How did you. . . ?"

"You thought that, too."

Peter realized that he was practically having a conversation with himself, just through the guise of your face. The details became more apparent; the color of your eyes, the set of your mouth, and the same smile lines appeared as he thought about its utter perfection. He connected that now, asking you to come closer only worsened his issue. Your presence over his prominent bulge made it push the limits of its cotton confines. Slowly, his marble arm broke from his reserved mold, and an empty hand cupped your cheek the same way he had always thought about doing it. He would use both, but one was occupied with creating his living dream. Then his hand slid away and around to the back of your neck, your hair brushing his chewed fingernails and overly scraped knuckles.

He knew that guiding you into the kiss was redundant as he could think about it, but this was far more passionate. As he brought you close, the thought of your smell and the feeling of hot breath joining in concordant timing against each other's skin started to fill his head. At the touch of your lips to his, Peter kissed like someone who had nothing to lose. Like he didn't have the responsibility of seeming to have it all together placed foremost. Like he could be a needy and desperate mess for more than a passing swing around New York. Only now, and only because of you.

His impetuous thinking decided that taking care of his problem now would mean that he could resolve everything else later. He needed to take care of it now; it was the only thought running through his head. Desire.

Breaking away, Peter silently commanded you to slide off your boxers and get on your knees. He caught a glimpse of you as you followed his direction, surprised by how his mind subconsciously filled in the gaps for everything he had never seen.

Your hands worked in a way that left their presence unknown until they were hooked into the band of his boxers, easily tugging down on the well-worn stitching to free Peter's springy dick. He watched your eyes ogle it and how you took it into your hand without a second thought, and while he filled your hand well, he couldn't help but think about his inadequacy. He had seen his teammates' sizes after sharing training sessions with them. Not that he was looking on purpose, but mostly out of insecurity. Peter already paled in comparison to the heights and builds of the others, and while he was far from small, they didn't make him look all that great. Peter started to wonder if the stone affected him in the same way it did you.

With a single thought, he decided to test it. He watched his shaft grow bigger and chub up with a thicker girth. Your hand could barely wrap around it as it had with his true size. It felt like an innocuous veneer to gaining the confidence that he never had. As a result, he was eager to get you on him and make you squirm like one of the criminals he spun webs around.

In seconds, your lips formed an imperfect circle and took the head of the arachnid, and the rest of him, as if it were nothing. Your lips brushed his decent smattering of hair around the base of his cock without convulsion. This version of you had a throat that fit around him like a cock-sleeve, hugging his girth without any of the need for restraint.

"No gag reflex? This is better than any toy I ever made."

Peter's hands found their way back to the rear of your head, controlling the pace at which you took him for his own pleasure. The sheer feeling of something far better than lubed-up rubber made him go wild.

At a certain point, he couldn't remember when his mind started to break reality further than he thought until he was suddenly yanked back to it. Peter started to feel effervescent guilt towards his actions. This is what he wanted, but not how he wanted to get it. Quickly, Peter felt the heavy weight on his chest return, the need to right himself by putting an end to this. He hated that he changed himself to impress something that wasn't even you. He wondered what his mentor would think, what you would think, or how you would react. A small shift inside him sent that weight toward his hand, the one he held the stone in, and it went from its dormant glim keeping the illusion alive to a bright shine, creating something new.

"Get off, get off, please," Peter asked, thinking the words in his head as hard as he could to free himself from his twisted fantasy. You let his stiff, unrelieved dick pop out of your mouth and got off your knees.

"What's wrong, Peter?" He had thought that, too. What was wrong with him?

He could barely stand to face you, but he needed to acknowledge you to make you leave. When he did work up the nerve to look in your direction, the guilt glared back at him. He felt like a creepy monster for even thinking it was a good idea to give in to his urges. The feeling overtook him so much that he didn't even realize your gradual change.

At first, it was your face. The pleasureful expression turned into a sour one, eyebrows funneling together and your upper lip upturned. But, the features of your face pressed forward as if they were made of putty and someone was trying to claw their way out. They stretched out and ballooned until they burst, leaving you headless. Your body went without a head for a few seconds before the more seasoned details of his mentor formed in your absence.

He kept his hand flat, wicking it away from his body and the rest of his arm with the hope that the stone would fall off, but his powers had already made that choice for him. Then, he thought of his suit, his web-shooters, and the communicator that could signal Tony. If he drew attention to the issue, it would resolve itself, but could he successfully explain everything as if it were the typical morning paper arriving at the doorstep? He could try, or at the very least, lie. But that would never solve this issue, though, not in the long run.

Peter formed a mental map of the fastest route to his closet in his head and decided that his backup web-shooters might be strong enough to hold the illusion down and give him time to pry the stone from his nonreciprocating palm. He turned, locking eyes with the monster as it started changing again.

Peter looked on in horror, the stone shining its brightest and shading the monster in terrifying red like a stop sign you see at the last minute when your heart sinks at the thought of being crushed. The soft tear of wet, stretching flesh and its stringy reformation flushed his ears as the beast before him grew. The harsh snap and sound of bones splintering from the fattening weight pierced his sensitive ears; nothing new to him at this point in his life, but he had never heard so many cracks and gushing wounds. Yet, through all the bodily changes, Peter never broke his stare with the amalgamation of his worst thoughts. Its eyes never left him, either. The cold and frighteningly dead stare of non-existent emotion didn't phase him until he heard a heartbeat, one that he believed came from the creature itself.

However, it wasn't the monster's—it was yours, heavy-thudded blood-pumping. The real you and your usually pleasant voice calling for his response. From the other side of the door, he heard you pleading for him to answer and affirm that he was okay. He figured that you must have overheard his distress and the ensuing raucous.

Peter reached for the stone but stopped. Everything was gone. His suit still sat in a messy pile on the floor, but the webbing was gone from the walls. The stain on the carpet was no longer there, and his pants were the only thing absent from his body, but nothing left the confines of his boxers. Had all of it really been in his head?

He quickly answered the door without any precaution, seeing your face still intact.

"Hey, I got you something different than Tony's. I was in line and remembered when you drank out of his cup by mistake and spat it all over the counter. Are you okay? I thought I heard a girl screaming."

“Thank you, and it wasn't a. . . never mind. Do you want to come in and hang?”

“Yeah! But get some pants on first, Spidey. I can't have my thoughts get to me.”

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gravehags · 8 months

Text

something so precious

Pairing: Cardinal Copia x f!Reader (Curator!Reader)

Rating: Teen

Tags: reader being sad and lonely, comfort from darling Copia, terzo being a scheming little matchmaker, mention of RATS OHWHOOOOAHHHH

Words: 1,461

Summary: When Terzo asks you to eat dinner with the rest of the abbey, how bad can it get?

a/n: I hc Copia as being an extremely lonely person, particularly when he's a Cardinal, so naturally he would be the best person to receive comfort from when you're feeling isolated and alone.

divider by @gothdaddyissues!

“Terzo?” you ask, leaning back in your squeaky leather chair. “Why do none of the siblings speak to me?”

Papa Emeritus III, currently sitting on your desk twirling a pen between his fingers as he hides from whatever duties Imperator has requested of him on this day, stops his movement and looks at you askance.

“Well obviously, bella,” he starts in that smooth voice you’ve come to recognize as the signature tune he uses when he wants to convince someone of something, usually involving accompanying him to bed, “it is your immense beauty. Your stunning intellect. Your–”

You lean forward in your chair abruptly with a tired expression on your face.

“Cut the bullshit, please,” you say, snatching the pen out of his grasp, “I’ve been here almost a month and not a single person other than you, the other papas, Cardinal Copia, and Sister Imperator has approached me. Are my vibes that bad? Is it because I’m not a member of the church?”

“Eh…” he begins hesitantly, “the best guess I have is because you’re basically upper clergy, dolcezza. Most siblings don’t casually associate with anyone higher in rank unless it’s for…” his painted lips quirk into a lascivious grin, “...other reasons.”

You frown. “Upper clergy? How exactly am I upper clergy? I’m literally just an employee?”

“Well,” he says, hopping off the edge of your desk and slipping into the chair opposite you, “a cardinal once held the position you do. Performed the same duties you are performing. Therefore in a way, your status is equal to that of a cardinal. Capisci?”

“Oh,” you say, somewhat deflated. Terzo immediately picks up on your tone and hops out of his seat to stand by your side and take your hands.

“Come to the dining hall tonight, eh? I know you’re content to eat alone in your rooms but it will be good for you, I promise.”

You’ve been avoiding the dining hall like the plague since you got here, preferring to eat your sad bowls of cereal on your couch every night. Maybe it would do you good to have an actual square meal. You nod at him and he beams, squeezing your hands.

“Bene! I’m sure you will find your place at the abbey soon, mia ragazza.”

He pats a gloved hand on your cheek and bounds out of your office to go cause mischief elsewhere. You sigh deeply and prop your elbows on your desk.

“It will be fine,” you murmur to yourself before turning back to the work you had abandoned when Terzo came in, “you will be fine.”

—

This, you decided, was the worst fucking idea.

When you first walked into the vast dining hall you were taken aback by its beauty. Paneled walls lined the room and a dramatic arched wooden ceiling soared above you. After you finished gazing at your surroundings, you were hit with the fact that half the room was staring at you.

Oh fuck, you think, skittering over to the food line in an effort to blend in better. You gratefully take your bowl of hearty vegetable stew and sizeable hunk of crusty bread and turn around to face the room. Siblings eye you, whispering amongst themselves and suddenly you’re struck with the worst pit of anxiety in your stomach. The room is filled with a number of tables in varying sizes and as you scan the room, your heart sinks when you realize there are no empty tables. Shuffling with your food into the center of the room you’re about to panic and give up entirely when you turn to a four-person table in a corner with one occupant.

Cardinal Copia.

He’s hunched over his bowl, delicately spooning stew into his mouth when he spots you hustling towards him. Dropping his spoon, his mismatched eyes go wide as you approach the table, jaw falling open slightly.

“Can I, um,” you begin in a hushed voice, “can I sit with you?”

A beat passes and you’re starting to wonder if he heard you when he rockets out of his seat, straightening his black cassock. Before you can say anything he’s drawing a chair out for you, gesturing for you to sit.

“Please, signorina!” he says in a hushed, almost reverent tone as you take a seat. “Your company is eh, most welcome.” Copia returns to his own seat and gives you a nervous little smile that makes you smile in return. Graciously, he upturns your glass and fills it with water from the carafe sitting next to him on the table.

“Thank you,” you say, mirroring his hushed tone. “Thank you so much. This place…this place is like high school all over again,” you say in a rush as you finally spoon some much needed quality food into your mouth.

“Is it?” he asks, “I ah…wouldn’t know.”

You cock your head and your brows draw together.

“How so?” you say, leaning forward to take another spoonful of the delicious stew.

“I completed all my schooling within the church,” he says, pushing a carrot around his bowl.

“Oh! Were you raised in the church then?” you ask, truly intrigued.

“Sì…in Roma. I’ve been groomed for this position,” he sighs heavily, “my whole life.”

You had no idea the depth and breadth of the church’s reach throughout the world. Truly it both baffled and fascinated you. Not knowing quite what to say to his revelation, you both continue eating in silence.

“How are you…how are you liking it here?” he asks with a hint of concern.

“It’s beautiful. I can’t imagine a prettier place to live and work.”

“That’s not what I meant, signorina.” His eyes, particularly the white one that almost glows, burn into yours.

“I…” your voice chokes up a little so you clear your throat, “I don’t have a lot of people to talk to. No one will speak to me, you know? I left all my friends behind and I’m so isolated now and–” you cut yourself off, feeling the tears welling in your eyes. He looks startled by your confession, and reaches a gloved hand across the table to take yours. When he looks at you with more softness than you have seen from anyone in a very long time, you let out an embarrassing sob.

“I know,” he whispers, thumb stroking your knuckles. “Believe me, signorina. I know.”

You wipe your tears with the cloth napkin at the table almost viciously, feeling humiliated that you’ve let Copia of all people see you like this. You hold him in such high esteem and you cringe at what he must think of you now.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out, removing your hand from his. “I…Christ this is so mortifying.”

“Not mortifying at all, signorina. I asked you a question and you answered with your heart. I…want to be someone you come to when you are feeling like this, sì?”

You nod, smiling at him gratefully as you watch him pick up his hunk of bread. He’s so…so wonderful and empathetic and charming and lovely and…and he’s currently picking apart his bread into tiny chunks and placing them within his napkin.

“Um,” you begin inelegantly, unsure of how to proceed, “what are you doing?”

“Hmm?” he looks up at you and his cheeks redden when he realizes you’ve been watching him. “Oh I…eh…”

You nod conspiratorially. “Midnight snack, huh?”

His painted lips twist into a smile and he chuckles, causing you to smile again.

“Not for me…for my bambini.”

“Peculiar babies who eat table scraps, no?”

“Eh…they’re…they’re rats.”

He’s positively glowing with embarrassment but your smile gets even wider.

“Oh!” you cry, clapping your hands together, “tell me about them! Can I meet them?”

He swallows several times before cracking a nervous half-smile.

“Sì, of course! They are such sweet little things…”

He’s got such a fond look in his eye, but you’re not sure if it’s regarding his rats or you. The thought makes you flush and look down at your lap.

“I’m glad Terzo told me to come to dinner tonight,” Copia says in a small voice, smiling at you. Your eyes widen at the revelation but you say nothing, simply mirroring his grin.

“He’s Papa for a reason,” you state simply. “Are you done eating? I’m dying to hear more about these babies of yours.”

Hours later, the two of you are the last people to leave the dining hall after being ushered out by irritated siblings. When you part, it’s with the promise that you will one day soon visit Copia’s rodent children. You bid your soft goodbye, hand lingering on his bicep when you thank him for his time and you begin the walk to your quarters.

Maybe the abbey isn’t so bad after all.

#cardinal copia x reader #cardinal copia x female reader #curator!reader #cardinal copia #copia #the band ghost #the band ghost fic #rachel writes

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