#i still have wired headphones but fucking hell

[ineffectualdemon]

Could my house stop fucking breaking

I'm fact could shit stop fucking breaking altogether?!?

#we got a leak around our shower #this is after getting our roof fixed #and when i was discussing this with my husband my noise cancelling headphones broke on my head #i still have wired headphones but fucking hell

[chrollohearttags]

bed time • a. artlert

I cannot get over the idea of armin trying to help his little insomniac, gamer girlfriend get some rest, putting her to sleep the best way he knows how 😮‍💨🥴

cw: nerdy, bratty, blackfem!reader, mean, dom armin (he’s so aggressive in this 😫), choking, fucking reader in her gaming chair, heavy squirting, overstimulation, degradation, pet names (sweetheart, angel, daddy’s used a couple times), name calling, spit kink, fingering, aftercare

📝: I was supposed to put this out last night but I got preoccupied and didn’t finish so here y’all go! 🫶🏾

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“Dude, you totally could’ve taken that shot. The fuck are you doing?” The sounds of (y/n)’s irate voice ringing throughout the bedroom. It was the late night hours of a relaxed Saturday night, possibly into Sunday..you hadn’t been vexed to check the time as you were busy smashing away at keys on your computer and shouting into your headset. Wired frame glasses sitting atop your pretty face, lights reflecting off of your tiny silver nose stud and your newly installed wet and wavy locks resting underneath the large pink bonnet atop them, along with your cat eared headset. This was a regular occurrence, one that took place more so often than you’d like to admit. It wasn’t rare for you to be up at all hours of the night, playing online games with friends, even at the expense of your own rest. It was a nasty habit, one you formed after pulling all night study sessions. Now you were a full blown insomniac with seemingly no end in sight. Although, there was one person who wasn’t too thrilled about the sudden shift in your sleep patterns… “..come on, (y/n). It’s three am. What are you still doing awake?” The first words to leave the mouth of your long time boyfriend and sweetheart, Armin as he burst through the door of your designated game room. He himself was certainly no stranger to this lifestyle and would happily hop on matches with you..at a reasonable hour of course. But that was never the case with you! Always up until the asscrack of dawn, playing game after game instead of going to bed. But now that he was spending the next couple of weeks at your place, he wasn’t having it. Suddenly, snickers could be heard through the feed of your headphones and talking to you. “Is that your boyfriend, (y/n)? How sweet..” rolling your eyes and smacking your lips at the sarcastic joke of one of your friends. “Shut the hell up. He’s just coming to check on me.” He was standing in the doorframe, shirt off and pajama pants dangling on his v-line..a tattoo each on his chest and forearm decorating his skin; looking good as always.

taking his fingers through the blonde shag atop his head, he’d make his way over to your chair, resting his arms atop the front. He had grown alarmed as is when you’d text him up well up into four am or try to FaceTime when he was so exhausted. It just didn’t occur to him how bad the problem truly was until he visited. He had all but had to drag you off of it and he was really scared for your mental and physical health. “Sorry guys, I’ve been busted. Baby says I gotta go to sleep.” Although you weren’t too thrilled to do so. However, he’d be disappointed to find that you had no plans to go easily. Even so, you’d log off and take off your headset. Turning in your chair in a frustrated huff. However, Armin was not swayed by your tiny tantrum. “Don’t give me that look. You promised you’d get some rest. At this rate, babe, you’re not going to be able to keep going.” You heard what he was saying well enough, too bad his words weren’t quite registering. You were still wired up, hyper and amped as always. Possibly it was the Red Bull coursing your veins or adrenaline from another win but being stopped mid game was truly putting a damper in your mood. “Arminnnnn. I’m fine..I swear, you worry too much.” That agitated and pouty look on your precious face was doing nothing more than fueling his point. “(Y/N), you’re going to bed. That’s it. Now come on. Tell your little friends good night and let’s go to sleep.” When he got like this, it wasn’t in your best interest to attest him but you couldn’t help yourself! It was always fun to push his buttons and poke the bear.

“And if I don’t want to, then what?” Folding your arms across your chest, batting those fluttery lashes and giving him quite the irritated glare. Granted, Armin was used to you being defiant when it came to this but he wasn’t much in the way of arguing with you tonight. Especially with exams coming up and him having to go to work in the morning. The last thing he wanted was to find you collapsed on the floor, in front of the computer after your body gives out. Which has happened! “(Y/N), don’t start. I’m not doing this with you.” Feinting his frustration through a laugh as he stood before your chair. Arms outstretched on each side and towering over you..you couldn’t lie, it was a bit of a turn on! “Well last I checked, Armin, I am a grown woman and I can stay up all night if I want to. Now let me finish—“ but before you could spin around in your chair, defiant and purposely being a brat, he’d spin it right back around and keep it in place. “Do you really wanna try me right now? Because I wouldn’t advise it, sweetheart. Do not piss me off..get up..now.” that low, sexy growl creeping into his tone and it was then that you knew you’d only need to press just a tad bit more to get the reaction you needed. Truth be told, you were beginning to get a bit tired…. “Make me..”

but it was far more exciting to let him fuck you to sleep!

he knew that you were baiting him along, Armin wasn’t dumb by a long shot. You were only stalling to get him riled up. Normally, he wouldn’t think to bite..dismissing you altogether but since you just kept asking for it, he’d give you what you needed: to be put to bed and in your place! Chuckling to himself, Armin would try and calmly respond but it was blatantly obvious that you wouldn’t allow it. Instead, he’d grasp your throat; lightly choking you but with enough force to keep you pinned to the chair. Eliciting a loud gasp from between your lips..gaze fixated solely on him from this point forward. “Remember..you asked for this..” just then, he’d shove his tongue through your pursed lips, permeating the inside of your mouth with sloppy kisses. Ones that took you completely off guard and caused you to whimper underneath his grasp. At this point, you had made your bed and now it was time to lie in it. He gave you an option to get up of your own accord but now? You’d be lucky if you were able to even walk once he finished! Amid the makeout session, Armin slowly but surely began to peel off those thin articles of clothing, exposing those perky titties which were his favorite..your dark hued nipples hardening the second they made contact with the cool air. He wasn’t about to give you an opportunity for the slightest bit of control and that much was apparent when he began massaging those big breasts, fixating on them for a moment but when you tried to put your hands up to assist him, he’d quickly push them away, pinning them to the arms.

“Did I ask for your help?..”

“ ‘Min, I—“

“That’s what I thought. Get those fucking hands out of my way.”

it was something about his sudden aggression and domineering attitude that would turn you on beyond relief. Releasing a couple gasps, you’d chew your bottom lip and allow him to take the reins. From there, he’d nip at your neck, growling and suckling on the sensitive skin. Eventually, he’d pull back those thin shorts and sink his hand inside. He wanted to see your reactions..those cute little faces you made when he was pleasuring you. Burying those digits to the knuckle inside of your warmth and circling your clit with his thumb pad, all while not breaking eye contact once..yeah, you definitely had pissed him off something fierce! “Open your legs, put them on the side of the chair and don’t move until I say so..” positioning yourself in sort of a stir up. It was then that he’d hoist them and remove your shorts to render your bottom half completely nude. It didn’t take long to realize how aroused you were by his sudden shift in demeanor. Your normally sweet Armin was so irate, that he was handling you like a rag doll. Parting your thigh, slapping your ass and clutching your neck. “..such a brat..always giving me a hard time..” muttering to himself as he continued working you over with those middle and index digits; pushing in and out, going slow just to stir up that building slick. Coating his hand and palm with the slippery substance. You were so adorable, attempting to resist and defy him, knowing damn well that you’d only wind up caving to him eventually. Hell, your insides were already two steps ahead of your mind; conforming to his shape! Twisting your head away from him, only to have it forcefully snatched back.

“But you only do it because you know I’ll fuck that little attitude out of you, don’t you?” Grinning with a sinister glare as he sped up his movements. Sounds of sloshing wetness coagulating with your sexy little cries and the squeaking of the chair. “Answer me, sweetheart. Don’t be rude.” And at the moment, you were practically trembling for him and Armin was more than happy to see that sight “..y-yes, daddy!” That bulge was beginning to grow ever so slightly from behind his sweats and you were the reason. Getting his dick all hard when you defied him. It made it all the more satisfying to break you when you acted this way. Going from rolling your arms to not even being able to keep them in the front of your head as he made you climax. To smacking those pretty little lips to having them wrapped around his cock when he throatfucked you for testing his patience…see, to the outside world, he appeared as sweet and innocent but you knew better! Nobody could handle you the way he could and he’d be damned if you kept trying it. He’d continue to press at your spot, mashing against that sensitive nerve to evoke more out of you. Those blonde locks of his straggled in front of your face as he pressed your foreheads together. “Aww, so you haven’t completely lost your mind. Open your mouth, right now.” Prompting you to do so to spit between your jaws. So he could force your head down and make you regurgitate it back into your folds. It was almost pathetic how desperate you looked, bogged down on his hand; squirming in an attempt to take him further. He knew what it was that you needed..craved more than anything and that was to be crammed full of his dick! It was almost disgusting how badly he had been dreaming of doing this exact thing. Fucking you in this very position. Piping you with those eight inches as you played your little games…it gave him a rush to think about all your friends hearing you get fucked senseless. And alas, it had come to fruition. Those little legs dangling off the sides of the chair arms and shaking violently. Before any of that could happen though..he needed something else and that was to make you come. Just one time of many..

“I’m!—Baby, I’m gonna come, pleaseee.” But that was sufficient enough for him. No, if that’s what you wanted, you better have begged for it. “Are you? Last time I checked, that’s not how you ask for permission, sweetheart. Act like you’ve done this before.” That condescending tone twisting your stomach up in knots. But not for any reason other than the fact that he’d always know how to handle you..making you act accordingly whether you wanted to or not.

“Please, can I come?! Please, ‘Min..” and because you groveled so sweetly, he had no choice but to grant your wish. Clutching your shoulder blade, Armin doubled down on his fast pace, hammering into you until you drenched him in that shower of your sweet cum; bringing you to a squirting orgasm with only his two fingers. “That’s right, baby. Let it out..my pretty little slut, squirting all over this chair..fuck yes.” Listening to you cry out in pure ecstasy as you came. “Fuck! Fuck!..” This man was not to be messed with but it was a lesson you’d soon learn. Instilled and implanted in your head until you knew better not to pull this stunt again. It wasn’t until you came to did you see the aftermath but this was just a mere taste of what he had in store. Removing them from inside of your tightness to your tongue, where he had you sucking them clean. That look in your eyes was one of neediness. As if you were longing for far more after that. Whilst you were busy tasting yourself, Armin was getting ready to have his fair share of fun. Tugging down those sweats to reveal his erection, immediately stroking it in his palm. “I wanna fuck you so bad..make you nut all over this dick..” his voice cracking and going high pitched as you watched that precum leak from his tip. Swollen and beaming red, you knew he needed to feel you immediately..and with that warm, dripping little hole all stretched out for him, it was the perfect place. Taking his thumb and pointer, Armin would part those plump lips and suck his teeth. “..that fat little pussy..she’s so wet for me, isn’t she? Let me in it…just like that.” Talking you through as he penetrated that warmth. One thing your man could always agree on was how good that pussy was. No matter how mad you made him, he was going to forgive you the second he could fuck you. And just for troubling him tonight, he was going to need more of those waterworks.

“Mmmm..give me that dick. I wanna feel you so deep up in it..” he wasn’t much for letting you make demands right now but with the way you felt suctioned around his shaft, he’d give you the whole world if you asked for it. “Look at how good you take me, angel…creaming on it. Goddamn, I love you..” having to laugh off his own weakness to your mix. You’d both watch as it slid in, disappearing with each aching inch being shoved into your walls. But it wasn’t until he’d start to move did he regain a semblance of control. Squelching noises arising with each slow push..smacking skin filling the room along with those shuddered whimpers from Armin and (y/n). At that point, you were only fitting him halfway; the curvature of his cock hooked inside of you and trying to hit your g-spot. He knew all the pressure points and ways to make you tick. To have you climbing these walls and crying out for him all night. With your legs occupying the arms of the chairs, you’d toss your hands to the back of it, clawing into the headrest as he fed you those deep strokes and his palm returned to your throat to keep you focused on him.. “That’s it..look at me. Look me in the eyes when you take this dick. I know it feels so good, doesn’t it, sweetheart? You’re my baby but you like it when I fuck you like my little whore, right?” And it was then that you were starting to cave! Melting in his grasp as he mixed up those insides. After fitting only four or so inches, enough to get you stirred up, he’d push in a couple more until he was nearly buried at the hilt. Those heavy balls slapping against your ass.. “I love it, I love it so fucking much! Thank you..” knowing that he had broken you down and got into your head now. All of that instilled in your empty little brain that when he asked you to do something, you’d listen. Of course, you weren’t the only caving and cracking under the powerful sensation. “Mmm! You’re fucking me so good, daddy..keep going, right there..!” whining so helplessly as you remained impaled on his dick. Only mere minutes away from releasing yet again. He didn’t care how many times you came. If you flooded the floor, the chair or anything in your vicinity, you were going to make a mess for him and do so until he felt like stopping. Pinning you to that seat with all his force, Armin fucked up into you relentlessly, with no intention to slow down. Those beautiful tits bouncing with each stroke. Not even when he accidentally coaxed out more of that liquid; this time spraying his chiseled abs in the process. Something about that sight drove him crazy. “Oh my God…you’re squirting. You’re doing so good for me!..stay just like that, don’t move..” he’d prompt you to maintain that pose, thrusting a little faster until he nearly knocked you back into your desk. Meanwhile, the static feed from your headphones could be heard out of earshot. Mumbling from your friends; speculating of what they were hearing at the moment were you and your man in the midst of a rough fuck session. And they’d be correct. They had been on the receiving end of your moans and cries, cursing back at each other in lust filled fury. The two of you would continue on for at least another ten minutes or so. Exchanging orgasms and expletives until either of you could muster up another drop. Ending with him spilling his seed all inside of that fertile womb. But by the end of it all, he'd fulfilled his mission well enough. Your eyes were damn near shut and you were hardly coherent.

“Aww..tired, angel?” Knowing he wouldn’t elicit a real response, he’d just laugh as you nodded your head. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up..” getting himself together so that he could hoist you in his arms and carry you to the bed. It was there where he’d lay you down carefully and go retrieve a warm washcloth; wiping over your sore body and changing you into something warmer and less drenched. All the while, you were fading further into slumber. It didn’t take him long to get you situated but once he did, he’d cover you with a warm blanket, too your forehead with a loving kiss and whisper into your ear;

“…goodnight, angel.”

knowing you’d gladly let him put you to sleep if he did it like this.

#cherry’s fics 🍒 #aot x black reader #armin x black !fem reader #armin x black reader smut #armin x black reader #armin smut #armin x reader smut #armin aot #dom armin #armin artlert #snk armin #armin artlert headcanons #armin attack on titan #armin arlert #armin arlet smut #attack on titan armin #aot armin #aot au #aot smut #black fem reader #black reader smut #black reader #smut fanfiction #this was short but ugh i just had to share it with y’all #black fanfiction #I love when he’s aggressive like 🫠 #aot modern au #black fanfic writer #armin snk #armin x reader

[feelbokkie]

Sorry, Right Number | Chapter 13

pairing: idol!Chan x fem reader

genre: smau, crack, angst, fluff,strangers to lovers, pen pals/hidden identity, forbidden love, celebrity romance

pov: 1st/2nd person (depending on how you view it)

warnings: swearing, alcohol and drinking

summary: Being an idol can be lonely and isolating. After one fun and adventurous night at a bar, Chan decides to text the girl he met the night before. Except, she gave him the the wrong number?

word count: 3,185

screenshot count: 18

taglist: closed

previous | masterlist | next

Bonus Content Unlocked: Mystery Trip with Y/n playlist

©feelbokkie (2023) — all rights reserved. reposting/modification of any kind is not tolerated.

“So, what’s in Gyeongju-si?” Chan asks after putting his phone in his pocket, clearly annoyed with whoever was texting him.

“Lots of things. I did some research and it’s one of the places that students from the bigger cities like Seoul go to for multi-day field trips.” You go through your bag and pull out two big ziplock bags full of snacks, handing one bag to Chan. You know the trip is only 2 hours long, but you wanted to make sure you had all your bases covered. You even had another bag of snacks for the return trip.

"Is this why both of your bags are heavy? You're just super prepared?" Chan asks. He had to help you get your overnight bag in the overhead bin and grab your backpack when you tripped getting onto the bus earlier.

"Better to be over-prepared than underprepared." You shrug. You go back in your backpack and pull out a notebook and a pen.

"Okay, now what are you doing?" He laughs as he watches you flip through your notebook and land on a page filled with notes.

"I'm just going over the plan for this trip. A good trip is like a recipe, if you don't follow the directions, you're going to fuck up the entire thing."

"You're insane,"

"Says the man who blindly followed me on this trip without asking where we were going."

"I trust you with my life, Y/n." You turn your head to look at him, his face is scrunched in seriousness.

"And I'm the insane one?" You hum before going back to your notebook.

"Here, let me send you the link to the playlist I made for today so you can just listen to that and relax."

"You made a playlist? Is that why you asked how long it would take to get there?"

"Yeah,"

"That's cute, but I can't listen to that right now."

"Why not? Forgot your headphones?" He asks softly.

"Of course, I didn't. We're going to need my phone for a lot of stuff and the battery is shot to hell so I'm trying to not use up the battery. I have a portable charger but that's for emergencies." You sigh as add a quick note in your notebook.

"Here," He pulls up a tangled mess of headphones from his backpack.

"You still have wired headphones?" You scoff as you detangle the headphones. Chan takes them back from you and plugs them into his phone

"Only for when I'm working. Don't worry, I didn't bring my laptop. You have my undivided attention for 3 whole days." He beams at you.

"Let me see the playlist, dork." You put your hand out for his phone.

"Okay," He hands you his phone, watching you punch in his passcode. He gave it to you a while ago when you needed to send yourself a picture the two of you took together.

"Love the playlist picture. And that half of the songs are your songs." You joke.

"I know for a fact you like SKZ so I couldn't go wrong with just adding a few of them to the playlist."

"You made the playlist for me?" You freeze, your heart skipping a beat.

"My love language is music." He says simply like that explains everything.

"Your love language is all of them." You tease, trying hard not to blush as the heat rushes to your face.

"Shut up and put this in your ear. The cord is kind of short so feel free to put your head on my shoulder if you need to." He pats his shoulder, signaling you to lay on him.

"That would have been a good song to put on here."

"...Give me back my phone," He snatches the phone out of your hand and quickly types something in.

"Topher, I'm kidding, relax. The playlist is perfect." You laugh, putting a hand on top of his wrist.

"Fine, if you say so," Chan scrolls to the top of the playlist, "Give me a number between 1 and 10."

"8 is fate," You smirk.

"I should have figured," You watch as Chan hits the shuffle button 8 times and then puts his phone in his pocket as LOVE DIVE by IVE plays from the headphones. You close your notebook and gently lay your head on his shoulder.

***

"To-To, we're not in Seoul anymore." You say as you walk back to Chan after getting the key to your hotel room.

"Did you give my nickname a nickname?" He asks, picking up all of your bags. He insisted on carrying everything and threatened to start screaming if you tried to take anything when you got off the bus. He's playing dangerous games for someone who has to wear a hat and face mask to hang out with you in public.

"I've been using 'To-To' for weeks and you're just now realizing?" You roll your eyes as you two head for the elevator.

You two get into the elevator and you press the button for your floor. You stand quietly, double-checking the room number. The only sound is the quiet elevator music, an instrumental version of a song you know but can't remember the name of.

"Y/n," Chan asks suddenly.

"Hmm?" You hum, not looking up from your phone.

"How are you paying for this?"

"I'm a certified broke bitch, Topher. I know how to find deals and budget. Don't worry about it."

"Yeah, but--"

"I will confiscate both your phone and your wallet if you try to pay for anything other than souvenirs on this trip. I'm so serious."

Ding

"I just don't want you spending all of your money on me."

"If only you knew how much money I spent on merch and albums," You mutter under your breath, leading the way to your hotel room.

"What was that?"

"Nothing,"

You stop in front of the door to your room. You pull out the keycard and let yourself in. You take a deep breath before you push open the door. The door opens to a small room with two beds. You breathe a sigh of relief as you walk into the room. You sit on the bed closest to the door and watch as Chan walks in with a small pout.

"What's wrong To-To? Thought there'd be only one bed?" You tease.

"Shut up," He mumbles as he puts your stuff down in front of you and flops down on his bed.

"You're not getting lucky on this trip, Christopher."

"What if I told you I'm already getting lucky just by being here with you." You feel the heat rush to your face.

"I guess we don't have to push the beds together later then," You tease, fully intending to not push the beds together later but watching Chan's face turn red is worth it.

"S-seriously?" He stammers.

"No, To-mato, calm down. Nobody is defiling anyone on this trip. We're already breaking the first rule of the school trip by having a co-ed room."

"Defiling? What are you, an old woman?" He laughs.

"Don't play the age game with me, Channie. I will hurt your feelings."

"Love when you're mean to me. Go ahead."

"I'm reconsidering this entire trip. Just relax a bit. We're going to head out to get lunch and then walk over to the Garden of Morning Calm."

"Are we going to go to the folk village while we're here?" He says as he starts going through his bags.

"Yeah, we're going to spend most of the day there tomorrow."

"Can we rent hanboks while we're there?" He asks excitedly, bouncing in his spot from his bed. You can't help but smile softly at him, your heart pounding.

"If you want, yeah. This trip is for you anyway." You flop your back on your bed and close your eyes.

"We can do whatever I want?" He whispers, you hear him moving around on his side of the room.

"Within reason, yeah." You feel the bed dip down on the side. Your heartbeat pounds in your chest.

"I'll hold you to that," He whispers in your ear before pressing his lips into your cheek. You stop breathing, your breath getting caught in your throat. If you and Chan were playing a flirting game, he definitely won, just now.

"I-I...I'm going to get ready for lunch." You quickly get up from your bed and walk to the bathroom.

"Cute," You hear Chan say before you close the bathroom door.

***

You pull out the bottle of soju from your bag and walk back to your bed. Your wet hair sitting on your shoulders. Chan sits down on his bed, drying his hair with a white towel from the hotel.

"What's that?" Chan chuckles.

"Cheap soju," You hum, opening the bottle for him.

"Why?"

"The main part of a high school overnight trip is sneaking alcohol and playing drinking games." You say, handing the bottle to Chan.

"With one bottle of soju?" He questions.

"I have another bottle in my bag if you need it. But you're going to be the only one drinking so no need to bring a huge ass bottle."

"Why am I the only one drinking?" He quirks an eyebrow, taking another sip.

"I don't drink. So go ahead."

"I that's not fun," He pouts.

"I'll make it fun, don't worry."

~

"This game tisn't fair 'cause you're sober!" Chan slurs, making you laugh. He's on the second bottle of soju and you're slowly getting tired.

"I've lost the babo game a handful of times too. But you're out again, anyway." You laugh harder as he finishes the rest of his drink.

"Lez play somefing else." He hums. His face is red and he's been smiling so much, that you can't remember seeing his eyes not look like half-crescent moons.

"Let's go to bed," You take the empty bottle from him and put it on the side table between your beds next to the other one.

"Don' wanna!" He whines. You sigh as you climb off your bed and sit next to him.

"What do you want to do?"

"I wanna sta' up wif you and talk."

"We should go to bed so we can have a good day at the folk village tomorrow." You chuckle as he pouts, crossing his arms.

"One more game?" He pleads.

"What game?"

"Truth or dare," He sighs.

"Fine, truth or dare, Topher?"

"Dare," He smirks.

"I dare you to go to bed." You smirk back.

"That's cheating!" He throws himself back on the bed. You slowly throw yourself back as well, your head facing him and your hands resting on your stomach.

Chan's head turns towards you when he feels you lie down next to him. He's no longer smiling, his dimple gone and his eyes more open than they were before. Not completely, they're hooded like he's about to sleep. If you didn't know any better, you would have thought he fell asleep with his eyes slightly open and mouth parted. It's quiet, the only noise being the air conditioning that Chan asked you to turn on when the alcohol started to make him hot. You two just stare at each other for a moment, looking at each other's eyes.

You're still not convinced that he's actually awake. Not until his eyes flick down to your lips, causing your breathing to stop as it freezes in your throat. Chan slowly starts to lean in. You panic, not sure what exactly is going on. You watch as his face gets closer and his eyes close. He's inches from your face and you know he's going to kiss you. And god, do you want him to kiss you. But he's drunk and you're not. You quickly sit up seconds before his lips can touch yours.

"Let me get you some water before bed," You say quickly before going to your bag and getting a water bottle. Your face is so hot, there's no way you aren't blushing right now. You uncap it and hand it to the now pouting Chan. His mouth is in a full frown and his eyes sad. He like like he just watched you kick a puppy.

"You don't want to kiss me?" He asks softly, taking the water bottle from you.

"No! I do, trust me I do, just not now. Not while you're drunk. Not when you might not even remember it." You whisper quickly.

"I'd remember," He says before chugging the water bottle.

"Let's talk about this later. Okay? Let's just go to bed."

"Okay," You quickly turn around as Chan immediately starts to take off his shirt. You forgot that he sleeps without a shirt.

You walk to the bathroom and take the trash can. You walk back into the room to find Chan already lying down in his bed, facing your bed. You put the trash can next to his head and slightly rearrange his body. You can't be responsible if Chan dies from asphyxiation in his sleep if he chokes on his own vomit. After double-checking that he's fine, you shut off the light and climb into your bed.

Your back is flat on the bed, staring at the ceiling, as your mind races a thousand miles a minute. Chan was going to kiss you. Bang Chan from Stray Kids was actually going to kiss you. And you panicked. You rejected him. But if you hadn't, it would have almost been like you were taking advantage of his drunken state. You didn't want your first and possibly only kiss with Chan to be one that didn't count. One that only you remembered.

"Y/n?" You hear Chan whisper suddenly. Your heart starts racing again, unsure what is going on in his mind.

"Yes, Topher?" You whisper back, your throat strangely dry.

"Is that why you don't drink?" He asks. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

"Is what what I don't drink?" You turn on your side to face him. Not that you can see his shadowed figure in the dark of the night.

"Hero's Soup," You see his body move slightly from the light coming out of the window behind him.

"The song?" You prop your head in your hand, curious about where he could be going with this.

"No, not the song. I mean yes the song, but no. Like, the dad in the song. Do you not drink because of your dad?" He asks softly.

"...Yeah," You answer, moving once again to lay on your stomach, your head facing Chan's bed.

"I'll stop drinking," He says suddenly.

"You don't have to stop drinking because of me. It's fine,"

"I don't want to make you sad. Because I like you. Actually...I don't like you. I love you. I think I might be in love with you." He mumbles, your body turning cold.

"What did you say?" You ask loudly as you lift your body, sleep leaving every corner of your body.

Chan is quiet. For a moment, you think he got shy and didn't know how to respond until you hear a quiet snore come from his side of the room. He fell asleep. He confessed his love and fell asleep.

It takes every fiber in your being to try to not scream right now. None of this can be real. It can't be. Chan is an idol, there is no possible way he could be in love with a regular person like you. It's impossible. He's surrounded by so many beautiful and talented idols, so why would he choose you when he could have anyone else?

You lay in silence for the rest of the night as you try to fall asleep and not think about what just happened.

***

You stare blankly ahead, trying to process what just happened. Chan just kissed you. In the middle of the folk village. While the two of you wear hanboks. None of this can be real. It has to be a dream. There's no possible way that any of this is happening. People also visiting the village walk around you, like nothing happened. This can't be real.

"I...wha...but..." You struggle to form words. You're almost definitely short-circuiting, and it's all Chan's fault.

"I remembered," He says simply. His face is red from blushing and his dimples are making an appearance because of how hard he's smiling.

"W-what?" You choke out.

"You said you wanted me to kiss you when I was sober and not when I wouldn't remember. I remembered and I'm sober so I took my kiss."

"We're in public," You panic, suddenly remembering where you are. Anyone here could have seen. Anyone here could have taken a picture and uploaded it.

"I don't care. I'll shout it out right now. Everyo--" You panic and grab his face, pressing your lips into his, unsure of another way to shut him up.

You feel Chan melt into your kiss. You pull away and stare at him in his eyes. Stars dance in his eyes as he looks at you. This cannot be real.

"Be my girlfriend?" He asks softly.

"What is happening right now?" You question. Despite how real the butterflies in your stomach and the burning sensation on your face, none of this feels real.

"I meant what I said last night. I might have been drunk but I meant every word of it. I've been thinking about it for a while. And I know you have feelings for me too. I've seen you blush every time I say something flirty or get in your personal space. Plus, last night you said you'd kiss me if I was sober. So, be my girlfriend?" He smiles, his face still cupped in your hands.

"I must be dreaming. I've gone full delusional and now I'm imagining this--ow!" You pull your hands off Chan's face and the spot in your arm where he just pinched you.

"Guess you're not dreaming." He smirks.

"I want to be your girlfriend but--"

"If you say no because of who I am I will cause a scene."

"Christopher, don't you fucking dare," You warn.

"Then be my girlfriend. I've protected you so far, I'll keep doing it. Don't say no because you're scared."

You press your lips together and stare at Chan's pleading eyes. You want to say yes. Hell, you need to say yes. You've enjoyed talking to Chan the past few months and you'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn't imagine eventually dating Chan after all of the time you two have spent together. You'd be crazy to reject the man you like, who you might even love, just because of the fear of what would happen if your relationship got out. But even then, it's a justified fear. You've seen what happens to people who date idols. You've seen what happens to people who are rumored to date idols. You know your mental health couldn't handle the abuse that would come from those who claim to be his fans. But, something in you doesn't care anymore.

—

Buy me a coffee?

—

Taglist; closed

Red means that it wouldn't let me tag you (either at all or properly)

@ventusnonexpectat @kibs-and-bits @sanriiolino @majorlymismanaged @s00buwu @badgergirlsblog @rag-iii @lanatheawesome @143lix @jaiuneamesolitaiire @veedoesntknaur @brain-empty-only-draken @jaydebow @allaboutyej8 @skz-streamer @weird-bookworm @spearb-99 @marked-unknown @thesassy-mia @kalopsian-thoughts @gruszkasmierci @aslou @chlodavids @greyyeti @thepeopleintheback @hanjiies @jihanniee @skzhoes @imsiriuslyreal @amyysfics

#feelbokkie writes #Sorry right number smau #stray kids #skz #stray kids smau #skz smau #chan #bangchan #bang chan #lee know #minho #lee minho #changbin #seo changbin #hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #han #jisung #han jisung #felix #yongbok #lee felix #lee yongbok #lee felix yongbok #seungmin #kim seungmin #i.n #jeongin #chan smau

[bisexual-horror-fan]

"You Love It." Charles Lee Ray X GN! AFAB! Reader.

Hey, hey, hey! This is a birthday fic for my good friend Bug! They deleted their blog a while back but fuck me, I love em and this is such a stellar fic, I had to share! I am so excited for you all to see it! A hot, fun, Charles Lee Ray moment! Let’s GO!

—

Rating. Explicit. Length. 2.4.K. Charles Lee Ray X GN! AFAB! Reader. No Pronouns Specified. Warnings. Dub-Con. Somewhat Established Hookup. Stalking-ish. Voyeurism. Exhibitionism. Overstimulation. Vaginal Fingering. Vaginal Sex. Dirty Talk. Degradation. Praise. Smoking. Burns. Pain Kink, Dom/Sub Dynamics.  

—

He hated not seeing you as often as possible, but he also hated being open or honest about his emotions, especially ones that made him seem weak, or needy, like he relied on not just you but anyone. He likes to think himself an independent person through and through. All the logic in the world can’t stop the damn itch though, that longing and craving he feels for you, squirming under his skin, refusing to leave him and he knew the only thing to satisfy those cravings would be seeking you out. Feeling you against him, how sweet you could sound, the taste of your skin, fuck, the thoughts of you had him hard enough that his pants felt annoyingly, boarding on painfully tight. 

The scrape of his zipper is what pushes him to pick up his car keys and take off towards your place. The ride was quick with the late hour, the little traffic and how much he was speeding. He parked down the road from your place and started the walk up to your building and as his eyes drew up as he walked, he realised something, it was well past midnight and you were still up, he could see you on your balcony. It makes him pause with a smile, he pulls out the pack from his coat pocket and his lighter from the other one, he lights up and watches you for a minute.

You however, luckily, had not seen him yet, something he could totally work in his favour. 

After slipping inside and coming to your front door, the fact he was not in possession of a key wasn’t something that would deter him or even slow him down, he knew his way around locks and didn’t have to break it to break in effectively. A slip of a card through, pressing just so and the latch releases, he holds the knob and eases his way in carefully, he pauses in the doorway, he can see you standing there, your back to him on the balcony, clearly not aware of his presence. He knew he was being quiet but he wondered how you hadn’t noticed quite yet but he saw the headphones on and plugged into the device at your side, ah, that’ll do it, plus it was so you, can’t sleep, up late, lost in music. 

He closes the door, making sure it latches quietly, not even a click before he starts his slow approach, just the sight of you was enough to start doing him in. He watches and takes a deep drag as he does so, he doubts he will ever get tired of playing voyeur and watching you do just about anything. Right now however it is making the craving worse, it fills him with a particular urge and he decides to go for it. 

You were relaxed, enjoying the chill of the evening air, arms resting on the railing in front of you, taking in the music and letting the calm of this time of night wash over you, truly at peace. It made it so the next feeling that was foisted upon you was one of extreme shock. 

One hand is over your mouth and an arm slips around your waist, pulling you to him, the fear that sinks in is immediate, wondering how and why the fuck this was happening, who the hell this could be. You could smell the cigarette and feel the small brush of stubble on your cheek and then you know what is really happening, The hand on your waist lifts slightly, fingers hook the wire of your headphones and he pulls, they slip off, sit around your neck and you know it’s him. He was the one who forced his way inside, snuck in and was now holding you, his voice now filling your ears, the slight background of the music bleeding in at the edges as he says, “Shouldn’t be outside and up this late at night, it’s a bad fuckin’ idea.” 

You bite back the smile before it can truly form against his hand that was over your mouth, the thought of you not even being safe on your own balcony and it counting as being “out too late” makes you want to laugh, it is so him. 

“Makes a man like me wanna do terrible things.” A push of his hips, you feel him, Christ, how long has he been hard? How long has he been watching you from inside your apartment? Your head too full, you let out a questioning hum. 

“Oh don’t play so dumb, it’s cute but it’s not you. I know you-” He sing-songed out those last three words, a chuckle before he said, “-and you, are not dumb.” 

Another hum and he tsks, “No, no you’re not, you might do stupid shit sometimes but who doesn’t on occasion?”

You could see the cigarette now as opposed to just smelling it, the glowing orange end passing by your head, he inhales and it's almost like he can sense your longing, he asked on his exhale, “You want some?” 

A small nod, as much as he would allow, eyes slipping closed and then you expected his hand to lift but instead you felt it, burning and stinging sensation of pain, a sharp inhale through your nose, your eyes drop to see him burning your exposed thigh near the hem of your shorts. You squirm, you whine and he lifts it up, the pain lingers, he coos to you, “Awe, what? Is that not what you meant?”

Shaking your head and he sucks his teeth before letting out a low whistle, “Too bad I’m not invested or interested in what a whore like you wants.” 

The hand on your face, his fingers drum over your lips and he asks, “You gonna scream when I take this away?”

Another shake of your head and he does so, pulls it away slowly and you don’t scream and he smiles at that, he turns you around roughly, one hand cupping the back of your neck, the one still holding the end of his cigarette on your hip. His hands don’t stay still, as if he needs to keep moving constantly needing to feel, explore, as if the craving isn’t remotely satisfied even with his hands already on you. 

He wasn’t being that careful, a few more grazes of the lit cig brushing sensitive skin making you squirm, “I was just walkin’ by and looked up and happened to see you and just knew I had to come up here and do something about this-”, his point emphasised and driven home with a grind of his clothed erection against one of your hips, thumb pressing along the underside of your jaw. “-I had the thought that someone like you has to know their way around a dick, figured you could help me out.”

A final burn pressed into your arm causing you to hiss before it was dropped entirely, both hands free he groped you, felt your braless tits through the thin material of your shirt, thumbs passed over your nipples and he sighs, “Fucking Christ, this body of yours-”

You could still clearly smell the smoke clinging to him as he leaned in closer, lips dragged over your throat, tongue peeks out and he got the first taste of you, and it caused his hands to move down your sides. “-you’re just so soft. How can I resist? You’re practically begging me for it.” 

One of those same hands was between your legs now, a firm press of his fingers and you arch away from the sudden rush of sensation and he doesn’t take kindly to that. Pushing your back hard into the railing you were leaning on,, pulling back from where his mouth as been on your throat, sick smile on his face, “I don’t fucking think so, you’re not going anywhere-”

A shifting of your weight from one foot to the other, another attempt to try and get away, it is many things, weak futile, adorable, he still says regardless, “-you’re gonna take it and there’s nothin’ you can do to stop it”  

Like you’d ever dream of stopping him from anything he wanted to do to you. 

All this has happened with some pretty startling speed. He has been here for about five minutes and was sliding a hand into your shorts and underwear, the first contact of his hand makes you want to whine, he isn’t gentle about it. Fingers pass over your hole and he inhales through his teeth, “You’re this wet already?” 

A laugh before he says, “Here I was thinking you’d put up a fight about doing this out here but no convincing needed, your body loves it.”

Two fingers slide in with ease and he curses, “Fuck, you’re so hot inside, can’t wait to get in there-”, a rock of his fingers, palm pressed to your clit and he continued on, “-do you like the thought of people seeing you like this? Watching you out in the open?” 

At the mention of him being inside of you, fucking you here, on your balcony out here, it makes you clench around his fingers, something he naturally has to comment on, “Ooh yeah, I think you like it a lot.” 

His fingers pick up the pace, harder, rougher and your breathing does the same, eyes starting to slip closed as you soak in the feeling, it wasn’t all pleasure, the treatment brought an edge of pain that was helping, elevating the idea and the fantasy.

Him speaking in those low tones, feeling the breeze, his touch, a sound breaks out and he just cannot shut up, “What was that?” 

A curl of his fingers, pressing on that particular spot that makes you feel weaker in the knees and that same sound got louder, a curse, “Ooh you do speak. Good to know.” 

He leaned closer and said, “I wanna hear more, c’mon, talk.” 

A nod, a hard swallow and you ask, “Wha-what do you wanna hear?” 

“What’s on that mind of yours. What are you thinkin’?” 

You groaned out, “With what you’re doing with your fingers? No-not much.” 

Another laugh he grinds his palm against you, “Cute.” 

He pulls his fingers out, you start to protest before he brought his hand up and sucked his fingers clean, a groan of his own before he slipped them out, “Fuck you taste good.” 

Reaching out, his fingers hooked in the waistband of your shorts and he ripped them down, “Just realised you are wearing just these shorts! You are too much-”  He leaned over, he pulled over the chair you’d set out on the balcony ages ago, he moves you, pulls you, one foot rested on the seat, shorts hooked around your ankle and his belt and fly are dealt with in short order. 

His hands back on you, one on your hip and the other on your thigh, the brush of him against you, intense eye contact, his lips were inches from yours and he asked, “Still not gonna protest?”

A bite of your lip and what you say next has no bite behind it, a heat laced whisper of, “No, please, stop.”

A drag of him through your folds, he nudges over your clit and he says, “Fuck. Tell me no. Tell me you don’t want it.” 

You play along, play the part, feed into this further, “No, no, don’t, please, please, please-”

That last please pitches up as he sinks inside of you with a groan. 

Holy shit did you ever need this and hot damn was it hard to pretend like you weren’t enjoying every moment of this. He soaks up this moment, the look on your face, brows knitted together and the harsh inhale, the flex of him inside of you and the squeeze of your walls on him and he can’t linger, so he does what he does best, he takes. 

The pace is far from easy after that, your hands reach back, lock on the railing to help keep yourself mostly upright. He isn’t that shy at all about how good it felt, heavy breathing, broken praise, “Shit yes-” 

His head tipped forward, his nose brushing over your cheek, slotting himself closer to you, breathing you in, an almost tender gesture, a stark difference from how brutally he was fucking you. “-feel so fucking good inside.”

A moan tumbles from your own lips, pressing your hips forward, more friction just the way you need, your breath catches and of course he notices, he helps, a hand on your hip, he helps you grind better, harder and the next moan is significantly louder. 

“Shh, shh, you wanna get caught that badly?” He asked, your palms hurt from how you held the rail, a questioning sound leaves your throat and he says, “I can see we aren’t alone, some people are down in the parking lot, you want em to see you like this, eh?” 

Is there? You cannot turn your head to see, you couldn’t hear anyone but that doesn’t mean that there isn’t anyone there.

You don’t close your mouth but you do attempt to quiet yourself and he clicks his tongue disapprovingly, he shifts himself, one hand down, thumb presses, hard circles where his pelvis had previously been providing stimulation and you gasp loudly. The climb is sudden, quick and overtakes with essentially no warning, tensing against him, a curse that if there was anyone in the parking lot they surely heard it. 

He doesn’t relent. He doesn’t slow, he keeps rubbing, cock sliding in and out just as rough and you whimper, still being so unrelenting overstimulation starts to set in, you can’t control the sounds you are making, body shivering. He manages to pull another from you, forces it from you in short order and when your eyes start to tear up from the pain sinking in he forces himself as deep as he can, he cums with the praise sweet on his tongue as the tears roll down your face, “You’re beautiful.”

That is when he kisses you, hot, all consuming, tongue in your mouth and you return it, your hands reach out, trembling, one in his hair and one gripping his jacket, needing him close as he could be. The movements of your lips against his slow, you disentangle, he pulls out and tucks himself away. You sit down on the chair you were previously using for leverage and he takes the one across from you, his feet up on the small table he fishes out his cigarettes again, lighting up he is aware you are watching him.

After he lights it, inhales he offers with that same sick smile, “You want some again?”

You think that you did. 

#Charles Lee Ray x reader #Chucky x reader #slasher x reader #BHF writing #Happy birthday Bug!!! #I sent it to em day of but I was waiting till they read it to post publicly #Enjoyyyyy

[thot-of-khonshu]

French Lessons 2

Part 1 | Part 3

One Shot: Late Night Talking

Less than a month ago Steven Grant could barely kiss you and now he's learned to fuck you with his tongue. 

Summary: It's been several weeks since you and Steven had your first night together and you're wondering what happened to your sweet French tutor during the morning after?

Rating: Explicit 18+ (By proceeding to read beyond this warning, you agree that you are 18 years or older)

Word Count: 5K

Content: Explicit Smut, dry humping, fingering, oral (m and f), fluff, romance, sliiiiight French, Steven Grant, slight reference to Marc Spector

A/N: Thank you so much for your kind words and notes on part 1 and patience on part 2!!! SO much has been going on but I'm glad I could get this out to you guys. I really hope you enjoy it, like and reblog!!!

A new day cones into the light as the sunlight trickles through your curtains and dances on your face. You stretch your legs arms and legs as far as they’ll go, feet digging into your bed as you turn slowly to your nightstand to grab your phone.

You scroll through the usual notifications; Facebook, Twitter, your mates that went out last night and the one that one that wakes you up and makes you giddier than any expresso shot ever would. 

Steven 🇫🇷❤️

You snickered at the texts and sent a simple, quick reply that you would see him tonight and that you couldn’t wait. 

You snickered at the texts and sent a simple, quick reply that you would see him tonight and that you couldn’t wait. 

You snickered at the texts and sent a simple, quick reply that you would see him tonight and that you couldn’t wait. 

This wasn’t exactly a new development. Every morning for the past two and a half weeks, Steven has been sending you a good morning text right on schedule, worrying that it’s ���too early” although by this time he absolutely knows your schedule to the point of your skincare routine. You and Steven talk about anything and everything, though it never gets old. Every time you hear from him it makes your heart skip a beat and reminisce to the first time you met him in that museum, praising your faulty wired headphones for allowing that quirky gift shop employee to eavesdrop his way into your life. 

Then came the French lessons and your friendship because he was just so damn easy to talk to, so caring, so warm. So there was no surprise that you quickly developed feelings for him even though you were terrified that he didn’t feel the same way but then one incredible night together proofed he felt something too. A night you hadn’t forgotten about but hadn’t repeated.

After that night, things intimately had hit a standstill. You replay the morning after Steven had woken up at your apartment; he was quiet, in a hurry and ready to go only muttering out one-word sentences and one quick, heart emoji text message that was supposed to sustain you through the day. 

At first you didn’t know what the hell had happened, but the next day, you suppose after everything had settled in and his shyness had melted, all of your days were consumed in conversation with him. Sweet, funny text messages, silly facts about random things he encounters during his day at the museum and awkward but endearing attempts at flirting. Things seemed to have been going well, you still see each other for French lessons that also turned into dinner dates and the occasional lunch pop ups at the museum, but apart from that you’ve had virtually no alone time together. 

You’d understand if it was because he wasn’t ready to escalate things as far as you had during your night together, but when you send him excerpts of your favorite Victor Hugo passages, he sends messages like this: 

“Fun fact, Juliette Drouet who was a French actress back in Hugo’s day sent him a letter with excerpts maybe just as romantic as his. ‘I wear my soul out with longing’. Je porte mon âme avec nostalgie. Sorry if that long-winded explanation wasn’t as romantic as I was trying to execute…xx”

But it’s never not sweet or romantic with Steven. Though you still would kiss and hold hands, you missed the way his body locked around yours, warm and secure. You missed the French he whispered into your ear which had echoed through your mind late at night when your fingers would wander. You’d thought about messaging him but wouldn’t dare be that bold. 

You’d decided tonight’s French lesson was the night to ask where things were going. Through work, lunch and the commute home you kept thinking to yourself that the worst you could hear was that things would stay professional between you two, tutor and tutee. But you also knew Steven felt some sort of way about you, so why not figure it out?

You meet Steven at the usual French bistro you gather for your lessons and dinners, Steven sitting there prompt as usual, hands fiddling and looking down at his phone and then up and then down again until you meet him at the table. 

Every time he looks at you it makes your insides absolutely gelatinous. The wide-eyed wonder he would give you each time you saw each other as if it had been ages, even though it had only been since yesterday when you popped around the museum. You dressed up a bit to entice him; you dressed in his favorite color, scarlet red, in a floral sweetheart dress with your hair down in loose “effortless” looking curls (the effort took you 20 minutes). 

It didn’t matter if you had taken 5 minutes or 50 minutes to get ready, though because Steven would make you feel like the most beautiful woman in the world by his stare. He got up to greet you, giving you a shy wave before pulling you into a hug that seemed to linger more and more each time it happened. 

Normally, the two of you say hello with a chaste, quick kiss, saving deeper kisses for when you part. This time you wrapped your arms around his neck, greeting him with slow tender kisses as he let out a surprised noise when you slipped your tongue into his mouth. Slightly surprised at your candor, Steven freezes for a moment before he grips the arms he had around your waist and brings his tongue to yours. 

“Tu me manques.” He said to you with a lopsided grin. 

“I missed you too.” Your cheeks burned, and you realized you hadn’t stopped smiling since you saw him. 

“In French, mademoiselle.” Steven instructed back at you in a jokingly bossy tone. Joking or not, hearing Steven so authoritative was already being mentally saved in your head for your late night thoughts of him. 

“Well, that’s what I’m here for isn’t it?” You let him go and sat down. French and dinner went well as usual, with the conversation mixed between different phrases and sentences he’d have you write and conversations about your days and activities. 

Towards the end of the meal, Steven jolted up in his seat as if electricity struck him. 

“Oh! Before we keep going with sentences and phrases and all of that… I got you something.” He reaches under the table to hand you a large gift bag. You open the bag and see the white cover of Paul Simon’s Graceland vinyl. 

You try to muster up words to say while he looks very pleased with your reaction. “Steven… I don’t even know what to say.” 

“I hope it’s not too weird. I just remember you talking about how you and your mum used to listen to this when you were a kid and how you lost the vinyl that belonged to her, so I figured it was time you got a new one. Again, if this is remotely creepy that I remembered any of that— “

You shut him up by leaning across the table and greeting his lips with a tender kiss. 

“This is amazing. Thank you.” 

“You’re amazing.” He seeps out with hooded eyes, affectionate and warm for you. You sat back in your seat as the server came with your check and your dessert half eaten. You didn’t want this night to be over, you wanted to spend your night with Steven. 

“Maybe we could listen to it together? Tonight at my flat? I have that record player at my place and I know you have heard little of this album. I still can’t believe you’ve never heard ‘Diamonds on the Soles of Her Shoes’”

Steven’s face stiffened. “I’d love to, I just have an early work day tomorrow. Donna is making me pay for another tourist asking me for bloody directions to get to the London Eye.” 

You look down at your half eaten cake. “It’s fine. You wouldn’t need to stay over or anything.” 

“I know if I go over there I’ll be tempted to after the last time.” Steven grinned, reaching for your hand. 

“I mean, I don’t think it’ll be that bad.” You hold his hand in yours, rubbing his palms. “I think if we just spend some time together alone we can—“ 

“I CAN’T!” Steven says a little louder than expected. He quickly moves his hands from yours, looking away from embarrassment. You’re completely frozen in shock at his exclamation. 

“Alright, Steven. I am very confused but I will just make this easy for you - we can keep it strictly professional or if it even makes things better, I can find another French tutor…” 

“Wha-no-what are you going on about?” Steven asks. 

“I just… I like you. I think you like me but I’m not sure, I’m honestly not sure if you’d just rather keep this strictly business. I’m getting mixed signals.” 

“How?” He interjects. 

“Well, for starters, you yelled at me when I asked if you wanted to come back to mine.” 

“Yeah… yeah… that did just happen. But it wasn’t because I…I…” Steven stammered for a moment before taking a long, deep breath to collect himself. You weren’t sure what he was going to do next until he moved his chair to your side of the table, sitting next to you and grabbing both of your hands with such intensity you didn’t know what to expect. 

“Look…I like you. I like you a lot. I thought it was obvious, but it's clear I’ve been a total tosser. I’m just…different.” 

“I know that and I don’t care. I like you for who you are Steven and everything that comes with it. If that night was too much for you, or if you want to take it slow I completely understand— “

“Definitely not that.” Steven answers quickly, a smile creeping across his face remembering that night. 

“Do you remember what happened that morning? After I left your flat? Because I don’t.” He continued.

“What are you talking about?” You asked. Now you’re extremely confused and with no context. You say it a little louder than you would’ve liked and people at the other table are looking. 

“Shh, shh. Okay, yeah, maybe we should just get to your flat so we can sort this all out, yeah?” 

———————————

The walk to your flat is filled with small talk about the weather and how chilly it’s been lately, the way the trees sway and how you’ve had to pack an extra jumper for the evening work commute. You’re holding hands so Steven is still there with you but it’s not like he’s really there with you. As if he’s jumping to explain himself whenever it’s in safe earshot. 

You finally get to your flat and keep Steven’s hands in yours, bringing him over to the couch and greeting his lips with an assuring, tender kiss. 

“Tell me what’s on your mind.” You whisper to him. 

He takes a moment to answer, his hands are now slightly shaking. “Like I said, I don’t remember leaving your flat. I remember falling asleep next to you and I tried to stay up as long as I could so nothing like this would happen. And honestly, also because I was just so bloody happy. I’m going to be honest,I had fancied you a lot and for this to happen when I never thought it would…” 

He tilts his head down in shame and you cupped his chin in your hand, lifting him up towards you so you can meet his brown eyes. 

“You looked so beautiful in my arms and I just wanted to stay in that moment for as long as I could. But sooner than later I drifted off and then I woke up in my flat. Alone.” Steven emphasized the last word, despising that the first thing he didn’t see when he woke up was you. 

“We talked, though, Steven. It wasn’t much, but we’d kissed, you got dressed and you left.” 

“I know, I saw the bloody heart emoji.” Steven spattered out. “And trust me, if it was really me, I would’ve sent you more than a damn emoji after our first night together.” 

You were more puzzled than ever. “I thought you had just been shy?” 

“I’m shy but I’m not a prat.” Steven countered. “Listen, I don’t know what’s going on with me. My memory is shit, I wake up sometimes days later without a damn clue of what’s going on. It’s terrifying and sometimes I wake up hurt and—and — the last thing I want to do is hurt you and if I did, I would never forgive myself.” 

“Steven.” You whispered softly at him. “I’m not going to lie to you, I’m very confused right now but the last thing I think you would do is hurt me. I know you, I know your heart.” 

“Yeah, my heart is fine but everything else about me is a red flag. I know I sound insane, I know this all sounds like absolute bollocks and I don’t want to drag you into this— “Well,

“Well what if I want to be dragged into this?” You demanded. “I’m sure whatever this is, I can help you and we can figure this out together.” 

Steven is shaking, heaving so heavily that you feel you can hear every breath that seeps out of his lungs. This poor man was so wonderful, kind and thoughtful and believed he didn’t deserve any of that because of some stupid sleeping disorder. He doesn’t realize how much he offers, but you know you can show him what he does. 

You move your hand from his cheek, slowly trailing his neck onto his chest. You feel his hammering heartbeat. He turns himself away from you, looking dejected, ashamed. 

“I’m not going anywhere. I promise.” You whisper. You keep your hand on his heart and he slowly looks back towards you, locking his eyes in with yours. God, he was so beautiful. Wild dark curls trickling down his forehead, dark eyes that shone, those beautiful, broad lips. He shifted a bit, noticing you were studying him and becoming self-conscious. 

How could he be so blind to his beauty? 

His heart rate was slowing down and normalize after a few deep breaths. 

“Just promise me, you’ll do what’s best for you. And if that’s not me at some point…” He trailed off. 

You planted another soft kiss on his lips to silence his thoughts. He responded with a warm smile as he moved one of his hands to hold the hand that was on his chest. 

He leaned forward and started to plant small kisses on every part of your face, ultimately meeting your lips again. It started soft and tender, your pace matching the calming energy of your previous moment. You moved your hands away from his chest, wrapping your arms around him as he brought his to your waist. 

That movement caused Steven to deepen the kiss. Sliding his tongue into your mouth as you both let out a moan. Your hands roamed into Steven’s curls, running and tugging through his hair as your need for him deepened. 

He broke free of the kiss only to trail needy, ravenous kisses down your throat as he grabbed at the back of your neck to hold you steady.

“Steven” You moaned, his hands moving to your clothed breasts, massaging them. 

“Oh, this dress, darling. You look amazing.” He slurred, almost in a trance. You find his lips again, more desperate than the last time as your bodies move together to lie down on the couch. You can already feel how firm he is as he clings on to you, his body demanding you without thinking. 

You press him upwards, wrapping your legs around him to straddle. You pull your dress over your head, thanking the universe you had worn a cute set of underwear that day. The way Steven was looking at you with hooded eyes and hands traveling everywhere, not sure what to touch first made it clear he was thankful too. 

He began a steady rhythm, pressing into you again, groaning whenever the heat between your legs met his at the height of its pressure. Just feeling him was enough to take you to the edge and satisfy you, but tonight you wanted to please Steven. Anything to take his mind off of his constantly running thoughts. Wherever his mind was running, you wanted to be his sanctuary at the end of the road. 

Somehow, Steven kissed you even deeper than you had already been intertwined. Tongues swirling together as he groaned into your mouth. He moved the hand that was on your breast and slid it up your leg, feeling at the lacy material of your panties. 

“I’ve been dreaming of feeling you again.” Steven panted into your mouth and you could feel your wetness pooling your core. Steven moved to slide his fingers into your underwear. 

“Really feeling you.” As much as you were throbbing for him, this was the moment you wanted to give to Steven. You moved his hand away from your crotch as he looked down, puzzled. You drizzled reassuring kisses all over his face as you slowly undressed him, and when it came to removing his boxers, you repositioned yourself on the floor, kneeled down in front of him. 

You gently tugged his boxers down and his cock sprung out, thick, pulsing, deprived for you. You saw some liquid glistening at his tip and your mouth watered. 

“I’ve been dreaming about really feeling you too, Steven.” You whispered in a sultry voice. Your hand met his base with a tight clasp as you moved it up and down. You had forgotten your hand could barely fit around Steven’s entire dick, and he was so hard you could feel every vein. 

“You—you don't have—“ Steven could barely muster words with how tight you were gripping him.

“I want to.” You licked the precum off of his tip making Steven jerk up slightly. You chuckled at his reaction, this was just the beginning. 

You licked up his base, slowly at first, watching his chest heave as you quickened the pace. Your eyes stayed locked on his as he couldn’t keep them off of you, looking marveled at the fact that you had even considered doing this. 

What he hadn’t bet on next was you wrapping your mouth around his cock, barely capturing him all as he let out a whimper. 

“Oh my god—“ Steven choked. “I’m not gonna last—“ 

You moan into him, sinking your mouth deeper, giving a steady motion of strokes and movement around his skin. 

He shifts as you take him deeper during each go around, seeing how much he can take. He rewards you with soft whimpers and his hand caressing the side of your face.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He whispers. “Divine. Ma chérie.” 

You could feel the effect of his words, how soaked you were for him. You couldn’t wait to feel everything in your mouth. 

You quickened the pace, diving deeper towards the bottom of his shaft and including your tongue to lick him. Steven made involuntary groans, slightly jerking at your movements. 

“Oh fuck—oh fuck—I’m gonna—“ 

You groan into him response, the noise of your mouth rapidly sucking on him almost drowning it out. He thrust into your mouth as a response and God you couldn’t wait to feel this man inside you. He whimpered as his jerks went at an irregular pace. 

You gripped onto him hard, sucking onto his tip as Steven released into your mouth. Steven groaned expletives at every squirt, pushing his cock into your mouth deep until he had released all he could give. You swallowed his salty taste, already fantasizing about when you’ll have it again. 

Steven, however, is completely blissed out, limbs sprawled across your couch looking like a marionette. His chest is still heaving so you could tell he was still alive and breathing. He opens his eyes and looks at you as you swallow him, groaning as a bewildered, disoriented grin stretches across his face. 

You move up to the couch to sit next to him, Steven now engulfing himself into your arms. Kissing your shoulders, still having trouble making steady breaths. 

“You’re incredible, you.” He kisses you deep and long, giving his familiar gaze of making you feel like the most important person on the planet and not a soul or a speck matters. 

“You are,” You made your way up his shoulders, chest and face with kisses. “You’re thoughtful, you’re brilliant, you’re stunning. You’re Steven. My Steven.” 

You felt your face go hot, feeling so bold to call him “yours” when there has been little of a definition of your relationship besides your language education. 

He grins, silent and strong, repositions you on the couch to lay back, planting a soft kiss onto your lips before he moves below your stomach. 

He slipped his shaking fingers in the waistband of your underwear, tugging them down as you spread slightly open for him, glistening wet. 

“May I?” Steven whispered. You nodded, and before you could even stop, you felt his thick finger circling your clit. His finger had stopped shaking, but he was breathing heavily again, looking up at you with slight worry in his eyes that he was doing this correctly. He pressed onto you harder as you whimpered in response. 

“I’m not gonna lie, I don't know what I'm doing.” He says and you both laugh. “But I’ve done a bit of research and I guess this is my way of showing you I’m yours.” 

“So far, so good.” You grin. He continues to massage your clit, slowly teasing towards your entrance with each stroke until his two thick fingers finally enter you. It’s better, more satisfying than anything you could do on your own. 

He works in and out of you, focusing on your reactions as you whisper encouragement towards him. You were soaking for him and you felt yourself build up. 

He started with a steady pace, speeding up based on how you would clench around him and he’d feel your body react towards you. If this was his first time, you couldn’t tell at all. 

As your breaths quickened, he added another finger, causing you to cry out and for Steven to abruptly stop. 

“Oh God, oh no, did I hurt you? I’m sorry if I went too far I—“ 

“Fuck, don’t stop. Just keep going, you feel incredible.” You moaned, he groaned in response as he pumped into you at a faster pace, the noises from your wetness echoing in the room. You felt yourself getting closer and closer, your bundle of nerves tightening. Steven could feel you and he kept going faster, with more shallow thrusts into you. 

You released onto his fingers, crying out Steven’s name as he pressed into you deep, feeling your pulsations. Your heart was racing, you had dreamt of this moment for weeks but it was better than you had ever expected. 

Steven released his fingers from inside of you and you could see them glistening with your wetness. He insert his fingers into his mouth, sucking onto them and groaning at how you tasted. 

“I’m sorry, you just taste amazing.” He panted, it rendered you speechless and couldn’t utter out anything if you had tried. 

Amid that silence, Steven looked to you and to your entrance where his fingers just were, looking as if he was contemplating a thought, and then he buried his head between your legs and all of your thoughts were lost. You loudly moaned, involuntarily; hoping your neighbors couldn’t hear a thing. He slipped another finger into your entrance while his tongue massaged your puffy clit. 

With Steven pumping you and tasting you, your thoughts became static. All you could hear was your wetness and Steven’s moans into your crotch. 

“You taste so sweet.” He muffled in between your thighs, building you up to a steady rhythm again. His mouth is so warm onto you and Steven is really building up a confidence with it, hooking his arms onto your legs and burying himself as deep as he can into you. 

Less than a month ago Steven Grant could barely kiss you and now he's learned to fuck you with his tongue. You grab onto his curls, grinding into him and he growls in response. You're so entranced you don't realize you’ve been biting your lip hard while you whimper over and over. 

You already feel yourself close to coming again, rolling your hips into him as he's entered another finger into you, thrusting fast, the vibrations of his groaning on your clit. 

Your back arches as you come for him a second time, releasing your body to him as you feel his tongue enter where his fingers were, desperate to take every drop. 

Everything is blank, and you’re overwhelmed with a feeling of unadulterated bliss. You both lay there for a moment, Steven kissing the inside of your thighs and rubbing small circles onto you. 

“I hope that was alright, yeah?” He said into your thigh. “I’m sure you’ve had this done a million times—not to say you’d let a million guys do this—just I know I’m not the most experienced person and I—shit—just, thank you.” 

You muster up some sort of strength to stand up, feeling a bit disoriented, and you hold out your hand for Steven. He gingerly takes it and you lead him back to your bedroom. You kiss him, standing near the edge of your bed and Steven responds with such hunger that you think he might go. 

When he attempts to grab you by the waist, he accidentally sends the both of you flying onto the bed. As you laughed together, looking into his eyes, you were making note of this intimate moment with the man you adored. The way his deep brown eyes observed you, his sweet smile, the way his hand felt on yours. How could this not be bliss? You had missed this so much. 

Steven had taken a moment to get up and clean himself off, grabbing a washcloth from your bathroom and wiping you up as well. 

“You've really been doing your research, haven't you?” You grinned. 

“Well, just in case I could see you like this again I just wanted to be prepared. I wanted you to feel as extraordinary as you make me.” 

“You make me feel that way and then some.” He threw your washcloth into your hamper with accurate precision and then curled into bed with you, your head laying on his chest. His tan arms around you, his lips on your cheek and your ear. This is how it was meant to be. 

He whispered your name, and you turned your head towards him. God, he was so gorgeous. How does he not know how amazing he is? 

“I think I want to sleep here tonight, if you’ll have me.” 

Your response was a deep kiss that lasted until the two of you were drifting off to sleep. 

Would Steven be himself tomorrow morning? Would Steven even be there when you woke up? It all didn’t seem as important as shutting your eyes in that moment and falling asleep in his arms.

-----------------

The next morning you woke up to the sunlight streaming on your face. You slowly opened your eyes and did your familiar routine of stretching every limb onto your body as you sprawled across your bed. 

Why were you able to sprawl across your bed? 

Steven left. That had to have been what happened. Your heart sank, thinking of what may have happened or what mindset he might’ve been in when you left. 

Then suddenly, you hear the lull of Paul Simon coming from your kitchen. You follow the sound, getting louder and accompanying it were sounds of pots and pans. 

You turn your corner, and Steven is up, making eggs, toast and tea. Your Paul Simon record he had bought for you played on the record player in the corner of your living room. 

“Morning, darling.” He came to you and held you for a moment, giving you a deep, long kiss that reminded you of how things started last night. “I’m sorry if this is too much, I probably should’ve asked for your permission before I started mucking up your kitchen—“ 

“Are you kidding me? This is amazing and so sweet, Steven, thank you.” You planted a lighter kiss on his lips as he looked at you dazed and elated. 

“I just wanted to do what I was planning on doing our first night together. Now that I’m actually here, I can give that to you. I can give you anything you want, if you’ll let me.” 

“So far you’ve given me breakfast, Paul Simon and a full view of you in your knickers so I am beyond content right now.” You giggle. 

He stares at you for a moment, looking as if he’s trying to muster up the courage to say something. 

“I do…have one favor to ask of you.” Steven began. You nodded, trying to figure out what else he could have up his sleeve. 

“Let me take you out on a date, a proper date. One that isn’t just French lessons and the lentil soup at the bistro. I keep thinking about how you said I was yours, and I am. I just want to make you mine in the proper way.”

Your answer is yes. How could you ever say no? Just like meeting a stranger at a museum, just like seeing him for the first time for who he really is. Just like falling in love. Your answer with Steven is always yes. 

#moon knight #moon knight smut #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight fanfic #steven grant #steven grant smut #steven grant fanfiction #steven grant x you #steven grant x reader #steven grant fluff #steven grant x y/n #marc spector #mcu #mcu smut #mcu fanfic #moonknight #mr knight #oscar isaac #oscar isaac smut #oscar isaac x you #oscar isaac x reader #oscar isaac x y/n

[call-me-eds]

Girls Freak Me Out

Masterlist

Eddie x Reader

After graduating, Eddie isn’t as in the loop with the Hawkins population, especially when someone new comes to town.

Have you heard about the new girl on the block, in her black out benz? With her old school kicks and her hipster friends, got a peace sign in hand. She’s everything you want and all you hated, well dressed and overrated. Some girls freak me out.

“Who the hell is that?” Eddie asked. He was in Steve’s driveway, dropping off an extension cord he had borrowed for a show last week. They had become close recently, drawn together by a pushy 14-year old.

Eddie was looking across the street at a girl he had never seen before. Leaning over the hood of your car, you were taking advantage of the unseasonably warm September day in Hawkins to give it a wash. There were nice cars littering Steve’s street, but your custom Mercedes Benz with black detailing was beautiful. Almost enough to distract Eddie from the person washing it. 

“New neighbor,” Steve explained. You kept fussing with her hair to move it out of your eyes, off of your neck, so Eddie only got flashes of what you looked like. What he could, see, though, he was already enamored with.

“Jeez, stop staring, she’ll call the cops on you.” Eddie rolled his eyes and shoved the wire into Steve’s arms.

“What’s her name?” he asked.

“I don’t know, I haven’t met her yet. Let’s go over,” Steve started walking down the driveway but Eddie grabbed his shoulder to stop him, the sudden reality of speaking to you dropping his heart into his stomach.

It had taken Eddie weeks to be able to call Steve, Robin, and Nancy friends. The jury was still out on Jonathon. The voice in the back of his head was constantly making him wonder what he would do to fuck it all up. Dustin, Mike, Lucas, and Will were easy, they had D&D. Max and Eleven were harder to read, with their guarded exteriors, but he knew once Max started teasing him the way she did Steve and Eleven said that she liked the man screaming through his radio, that he could consider them buddies, as well.

“Now who’s the creep? Going over to introduce yourself while she’s in barely any clothes, all soaped up,” he sighed and ripped his eyes away, actually starting to be worried that you could feel his glance. Steve shrugged and let it go, but neither of them had to wait long to make their introductions.

The car that had been at the center of Eddie’s dreams screeched into the parking spot outside of the record store. It drew his attention from the Slayer album in his hands, and you bounding through the door kept his eyes up.

“‘Scuse me,” you said, reaching around him to finger through the records. He moved back a step and you continued to hum whatever song was coming through your headphones. When he was looking at you from the safety of Steve’s driveway, he couldn’t make out your specific features. Now, he was close enough to see the birthmark on your shoulder, the way your nose slanted to the right, the color of your eyes.

He had no clue what to say to you, or if he should say anything at all. He could tell your shoes were real leather, not the fake plastic blend he had on his body. You looked like the kind of person that would ridicule him in the hall, but the way you didn’t just shove past him made him second guess his instincts. He had to know more.

“Hey, you’re my new neighbor!” Eddie had left Steve on the other side of the store, with the top 40 records, but of course he popped back up. He was like a fungus. “I’m Steve, great to meet you,” he held out his hand and you laughed a little before shaking it.

“I’m Y/N,” you turned towards Eddie next. He expected a greeting, but you couldn’t ignore the way he had been looking at you the last five minutes. “Is there something on my face?” you asked. 

“Nope,” Eddie shook his head and looked back down, quickly glancing at the record in your hands.

“What? Got a problem with The Smiths?”. He shook his head again and willed himself to think of more than one word to say to you, but Steve beat you to it.

“So, how you liking Hawkins so far?” Most of the time, Eddie hated Steve’s charm, but now he was thankful for it. He could entertain you while he just stood there, like an idiot.

Again, he was staring at you, eyes trailing over the brand on your sunglasses, the big purse, and the jeans that looked like they were hand-stitched to your body. You looked like everyone he absolutely could not stand, but he needed to know everything about you. The way you were so confident and immediately came for his throat, he had never met anyone like you.

“Alright, so we’ll see you later,” Steve smiled, clapping a hand on Eddie’s shoulder and breaking him out of his trance. “Let’s roll, Munson, I’m going to be late for work.”

“Eddie,” he said, finally speaking more than one syllable to you, even if it was just his name. “My name’s Eddie. If you ever need a hookup for some herbal let me know. But I can get my hands on pretty much anything.” He never outright offered his services like that, much less in a public space or when the sun was still out. Everyone knew that if they needed drugs, they should go to him. He worried he was too forward, outright assuming you were on the hunt for drugs from a stranger. Before he could apologize, you nodded and looked him up and down.

“Good to know, I will definitely be taking you up on that.” You scared the shit out of him.

Well daddy’s little girl knows how to party, she’s singing “Pour Some Sugar On Me.” She’s well versed in the new pop culture, always rolls with a camera by her side. Well, some girls just freak me out.

The next time Eddie spoke to you, you were standing on Steve’s coffee table, screaming the latest Def Leppard song as it pumped from the speakers. It was a little colder outside, now, but you were still in a cut off t-shirt and short skirt. He couldn’t look away. Well, until you pointed right at him. 

Eddie looked over his shoulder to make sure that you weren’t calling someone that you actually had given an indication to liking. When he turned back to you, you nodded and beckoned him over. 

“How can I help you?” he yelled over the music, reaching his hand up to help you down. It was already a vast improvement from your last interaction; the weed he had smoked let him talk to you without choking on his tongue. You grabbed his hand tightly and jumped down, stumbling a bit on your landing, but Eddie held you up.

“Have any of that fun stuff you mentioned?” you asked, cocking your head to the side. He should have guessed, it was the only thing you knew about him.

When Eddie was at a typical Hawkins party, he knew his role. He was there to keep quiet, give people drugs, and try to swipe a few valuables he could pawn. At Steve’s parties, he could take a breather and enjoy himself, not having to worry about fitting into the box people shoved him in. He was safe here.

That didn’t mean he came unprepared.

“Let me run outside and get my box out of my van,” he said, prepared to dash out of the house and return before you could change her mind about talking to him.

“I’ll come with you, I’m sweating bullets in here,” you pinched your shirt and waved it away from your body, trying to cool down.

“Okay,” Eddie looked up, trying not to focus on the flashes of your bra he was getting. He led you through the house, and with you still being a new presence in town and him being, well, him, you got out the door without much resistance. When he opened the van door, he tried to block your view of the garbage that littered his backseat.

“Here we go,” he propped the metal lunchbox on his knee and popped it open. “Pick your poison.” You stepped closer and peered inside, the liquor-induced confidence allowing you to pick through the little bags.

“That’s pretty,” you grinned, poking at a small baggie with pink pills. He didn’t think that he ever had someone go off of sight before.

“That definitely does not mix well with alcohol,” he warned, noticing how you were swaying on your feet. 

“Well, what does and costs less than $20?” you asked, fishing a bill out from somewhere he couldn’t see. Eddie was no stranger to offering pretty girls free drugs, but never on a first sale. If he set that precedent, then he would never make any money.

“20 bucks? For you, anything in here. But my suggestion is to take it easy so you can enjoy the party,” he pointed to one of the joints that Robin insisted on separating into their own bags. She claimed ‘presentation was key’. He couldn’t deny that his customers appreciated the speedier sale times. 

“For me?” you repeated. A deep blush settled into Eddie’s cheeks. 

“Well, you’re Harrington’s new neighbor. I want to make sure that you feel welcome to the neighborhood,” he explained. You smiled, knowing that you made him feel a bit uncomfortable. Any time he saw you in town or across the street from Steve’s, he met your wave with a curt nod and picking up his pace. He didn’t mean to be rude, but he genuinely had no idea how to act around you.

Even though kids your age didn’t typically judge their drugs off of sight, people were a totally different situation, and you seemed to twist his expectations around again. You didn’t shy away when you saw him, Steve even said that she asked if you were from the neighborhood, too, and Eddie wanted to die when he learned that Steve told you the truth about where he lived.

“I would probably feel more welcome if you didn’t run away every time I saw you,” you teased, leaning against his car.

“I’m sorry about that. You just, make me nervous,” he shrugged. God, that was a lame excuse. You laughed, though, and he knew that he would say anything to make you giggle again.

“Get to know me, and I promise, I’m not that scary.” Usually, that was his line; it was nice to hear it from someone else..

She’s the sweetest, the sweetest thing but I know she’s no good for me. Gonna take you home and take off your clothes, Baby, I’m nothing but bad news.

“No, I’m serious, this is witchcraft!” You had been seeing a lot of each other as the fall changed to winter, although Eddie never wore more than his leather jacket. After a bout with a nasty cold, he accepted one of the scarves you knit in your free time, conceding that maybe he could cover up a bit more. 

Now, you were attempting to teach him to knit himself, but he mostly just ended up knotting your yarn and using your needles to scratch his back.

“Just pay attention,” you sighed, grabbing his hands and trying to contort them in a way totally unnatural to him. Despite the fire crackling in your living room, your hands were freezing. He jumped back a little before dropping the project, an attempted hat, and grabbing your fingers, instead. 

“Christ, did you just take these things out of the freezer?” he asked. You rolled your eyes and pulled your hands away, rubbing them against your legs to warm them up. 

“Hot chocolate?” you asked him, already getting up to go to the kitchen. Eddie followed closely behind you, socks padding against the hardwood floors. He watched you flutter around the kitchen, grabbing enormous mugs and pulling out milk and whipped cream from the fridge. The soft calm imploded when he saw your hair fall over your shoulder right as you turned the flame on the stove.

“Holy shit, be careful! People are going to think I torture you,” he sprung up and, without thinking, collected your hair to the back of your head and tied it without technique, using the scrunchie from his own wrist. Another knit gift you forced him into taking.

“Thanks, that was kind,” you smiled up at him. He scoffed and walked back to the other side of the counter. “What, I can’t say something nice to you?” You entered into a staredown. Eddie tried his hardest not to let your infectious smile get to him. He could practically taste the sweetness in it from across the room.

“No, you can say whatever you want,” he shrugged, breaking the challenge and looking at the boiling pot on the stove. You lapsed into silence, assembling the drinks and letting Eddie fill half of his cup with marshmallows before you spoke again.

“You do that a lot, you know,” you said. He gave you a confused look, asking for an explanation. “You never accept a compliment. I can tell you that you're kind, or I like your shirt, or even thank you for picking me up, and you always shrug it off. I wish you wouldn’t.”

In your few weeks of getting to know Eddie, his shyness turned into a bravado. Now that he knew you weren’t interested in ridiculing him, his feux confidence oozed into everything. You could tell he still didn’t trust you, though. If he did, he wouldn’t put up the front.

“You’re really great, Eddie,” you said earnestly.

“You’re sweet, but-”

“No buts! You’re great, I’m sweet, end of conversation,” you stopped him, putting a hand over his. 

“Okay,” he couldn’t meet your eyes, biting his lip to keep from grinning wildly. “Jesus, you’re still freezing. Should we try skin to skin contact?”

There were more knitting lessons, some private concerts, and a lot of late night conversations between you and Eddie. Even though you were right across the street, he always insisted on walking you home when you were at Steve’s, which turned into talking for 20 minutes outside your door. Then, you’d gab for another hour when you called him to make sure he made it home okay.

You thought you were showing your cards too much, being a little desperate, but Eddie’s outer shell started to melt away and you began to like his presence even more. He was funny, and so endearing, you almost wished you had moved into the trailer across the way.

He came to expect your calls, but your presence on Thursday evenings were a new, surprising addition to his routine. Steve or Nancy had been taking turns picking up the younger kids from D&D at his house, and when Steve went you began to tag along.

“Okay, you shrimps are squeezing in the back,” he said, making them begin to fight on who was sitting on top of who.

“I can just drive Y/N home,” Eddie shrugged, raising his eyebrows at you for approval. You nodded and tried to keep your face neutral, your unrevealed plan having worked.

“Then why didn’t you just drive us all home?” Mike asked. Steve smiled, not hiding his teasing expression, and bid you both goodnight as he walked out of the trailer. The energy instantly leveled, and Eddie let a sigh fall from him.

“God, you’d think they all chugged a pot of coffee before they get here,” he dropped onto the couch and patted the seat next to him for you to inhabit.

“They just get excited to hang out with you,” you smiled. “Why do you think I came over?” You reached behind him for the blanket draped over the cushions.

“I actually think it’s for the opposite reason,” his tone was light. If he kept up an unserious mood while moving closer to you and brushing his leg against yours under the sheath of the blanket, then it wasn’t a big deal. It couldn’t be. “I give them all this energy and then dump them on Harrington or Nancy, and you get me at the end of the night when I’m exhausted and compliant.”

“Oh yeah, I could totally get you to do anything I wanted to right now,” you smiled. A shiver ran through your body, giving the two of you another excuse to intertwine. You pressed against each other during movies, or while in line at the crowded coffee shop, but now you were just cuddling in silence, no facade to cover up your desire to be close. 

“Just give me the word,” he said, and you both knew he wasn’t joking. He was wrapped around your finger.

Hooked up with the new girl on the block, wonder where she’s been. Now I’m laughing, drinking with my friends. Body shots ‘til the party ends, yeah, did I clean up the mess? Go to hell, well, some girls just freak me out. 

He didn’t know how, but Eddie knew he had royally fucked up. It had been two weeks since he spoke to you, two weeks since he touched you. 

“Is this a bad idea?” you asked, putting your hands on his chest and panting slightly.

“Totally,” he nodded, holding you tightly. “I’m bad news, but you’re just plain trouble,” he leaned forward again and sealed your lips together, making you forget any hesitation you had. 

You weren’t apprehensive because of the reputation Eddie carried around, it was because you value your friendship so much. 

It was really, really, difficult not to be attracted to Eddie. He was so rough on the outside but so compassionate once you talked to him for more than a minute. All of his friends let you right into the group, cutting your alone time down to both of your chagrin. When he invented fake, non-refundable plans for the two of you so you could hang out alone, you suspected that he might be attracted to you, too.

You needed to be the one to ask him to hang out for the first time, and it took a bit longer before he was fully comfortable in your presence, so you weren’t shocked when you had to be the one to kiss him first. When you did, it was even better than you thought it was going to be. 

The next day, when you called him to make plans again, the giddiness in both of your voices was embarrassingly childlike. Finally, though, his feelings were right on the surface for you to see.

The second, third, fourth times that you hooked up with Eddie were amazing. You were having just as incredible a time together as usual, but now with an added layer of pleasure. When you were together he was attentive, sincere, and it was far too enjoyable to be one-sided. 

You began to notice that when the next morning came around, you were always the one to call him, or to make the next plans. Was all of the time spent and conversations some sort of long game for him to get in your pants? It felt like a real friendship, but how long had you actually known these people? Did you make a mistake?

The last time you hooked up, two weeks ago, you promised yourself that you weren’t going to be the one to reach out.

“God, what did we even do before this?” he asked, rolling off of you and pressing kisses to your bare shoulder. 

“We did whatever friends do,” you smiled. 

“Friends definitely don’t do that,” he laughed. You knew he didn’t mean it how it came out, that you weren’t friends. He just meant that you were partaking in some activities outside of the normal realm of friendship, but your insecurity was looking for something to latch on to.

“Then I guess I’ll go,” you sat up and started pulling clothes from the floor, quicker than usual. Suddenly the idea of Eddie looking at you was too personal, too vulnerable. He tried to think if you mentioned having plans or something to do and why you were rushing out of his bed.

“Are you sure? You can stay, I have nothing going on,” he shrugged. He didn’t expect a pat on the back, but he thought he was being gentlemanly with you.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you nodded, barely looking back at him.

You didn’t call after that. If he wanted to see you again, he was going to have to put forth the effort. Which he clearly didn’t, because you didn’t hear from him until you were, once again, trying to make new friends at a party. 

Eddie was having the time of his life. He had been feeling so much more confident since he had started seeing you, and it pulled through to every facet of his life. He raised the band’s performance rate, stopped accepting IOU’s for drugs, and even convinced himself that surely, he’d be able to figure out how to change the oil in the van himself. The last one may have been a bit premature, but still, if someone had told him six months ago that he’d be at a party hosted by any of the former sports captains from high school, he’d have laughed in their face. Now, he was cracking jokes, not even at the expense of anyone, and people were laughing along with him, not at him.

He knew it was because of you, and the lack of contact for the last two weeks hadn’t gone unnoticed. As slowly his confidence with you grew, it was ripped away like it was never there. He was suddenly afraid to call you up, worried that if he said the wrong thing you would actually tell him that you never wanted to speak to him again. If he didn’t talk to you, you couldn’t cut him off.

Irrational, he knew. It was why Eddie came to the party in the first place, before cups of beer started being put into his hands. He hoped that if he ran into you that he’d be able to either talk out whatever he had done, or maybe you’d just forgive him if he apologized enough.

“Come on, Wheeler, you can’t deny me of this,” he wrapped his arms around Nancy’s waist and scooped her up, her screeching not doing anything to deter him. 

“Eddie, no,” she laughed. “Jonathon, help!” Eddie looked back at Jonathan. He would let Nancy go if her boyfriend had a problem with it, he was not looking to sever any of the new relationships he had gotten his hands on. But the older Byers boy just continued to laugh and nod his head after seeing the smile on Nancy’s face.

“I’ll let you do one off of me, next” he bargained. She laid back on the counter Eddie set her on and lifted her sweater up until right underneath her bra. 

“God, it’s cold,” she gasped as he poured liquor into the concave of her stomach. 

You walked through the kitchen of the house just in time to see him lick a line up her torso and slurp against her skin. 

“Hey, Y/N! Your turn, come on,” Robin tried to wave you over, but you just held up your hand and moved through quickly to get to any other room. 

“Where has she been?” Nancy asked, wiping down herself and sitting up with a little help from Eddie’s supportive hand on her back. 

“Yeah, what did you do to piss her off?” Robin asked. 

“I didn’t do anything,” Eddie frowned, taking small sips from his cup to avoid talking.

“Uh, yeah you did. You’d be parked outside of my house, like, three nights a week, but you were never hanging out in my room,” Steve snitched. Eddie punched his arm with the minimal amount of force he had. 

“Well, I really like Y/N, go clean up your mess,” Nancy demanded. He bit back the defiance on his tongue, simply from being told what to do. He knew that she was right, though. He had to repair whatever he had destroyed.

After draining what was left in his cup, he set it down on the counter and went to go search for you. You weren’t dancing in the living room, waiting on line outside of the bathroom, or hanging out in the kitchen when Eddie circled back there. In favor of opening every door on the second level, Eddie decided to try his luck outside first.

Low and behold, you were sitting on the porch swing.

“Jesus, it’s freezing out here, what are you doing?” he asked, taking off his jacket and going to drape it over your shoulders. You shook your head and scooted impossible closer to the edge of the seat. “Babe, you’re going to get frostbite.”

“Oh, go to hell,” you spat, standing up and leaning your hands on the railing and keeping your eyes trained on your shoes. He waited a few seconds with bated breath before walking up to the railing and standing a few feet away from you.

“Y/N,” he started slowly, not wanting to make you have another outburst. “Can we please talk?”

“You’re already talking,” you snapped.

“Okay, can we have a conversation, then?” he remedied. You shrugged and continued to look away from him. Eddie didn’t even know where to begin. With an apology? He didn’t know what to apologize for. He saw you shiver and extended his coat again. “Please just take my coat,” he sighed.

“I don’t want your damn coat,” you frowned.

“Then what do you want, Y/N? You’re not saying anything and I’m left in the lurch, here!” He was desperate at this point.

The first few days that he didn’t get a phone call from you, he admittedly barely noticed. Between carting the kids around, driving an hour and a half each way to get a specific brand of guitar strings, and picking up extra shifts with Uncle Wayne, he was a busy guy these days. By the time day 5 rolled around, he needed some serious relaxation time and was really planning on giving you a call, but then he fell asleep. And then before he knew it it had been a week.

When Steve said he hadn’t heard you, or when he drove by and your blinds snapped shut, he figured something was up.

“Please, just tell me how to fix this.”

“How to fix what, Eddie? It’s not a relationship. So what is there to fix?” you asked. 

You thought of the facts before you made the decision to kiss Eddie. You had found a real comfort in each other. You made each other laugh, kept each other company. And he couldn’t ignore the fact that you didn’t have 17 years that the rest of the town had to influence what you thought of him, which he expressed to you. The thought that maybe you were his only option ate away at you. What happened when someone else new came into town? Would he drop you when there was a shiny new toy available? 

“What do you mean, there’s you and me,” he stepped closer and you didn’t shy away. Progress. 

“Don’t you get it, Eddie? There is no you and me. There’s just you, and just me. We weren’t exactly friends, according to you.” It all clicked. He was such a fucking idiot.

“Oh, God,” he put his head in his hands and tried to think how he could be so stupid. “When I said- I didn’t mean- Y/N, of course we’re friends. More than friends, there’s something here, I thought it was obvious so I didn’t say it.” He felt the familiar soft touch of your fingers on his wrist, pulling them away from his face.

Eddie looked at you and instantly half of your anger dissolved.

“That made me feel really shitty, what you said,” you finally confessed to him. “I felt dismissed a-and cheap, and worst of all used.”

“I’m so sorry, I never meant to do that.” If it weren’t for the way he was tenderly holding your hand or so visibly having to hold himself back from embracing you, you would’ve thought it was a line. 

“I care about you and if you want a label or a definition I will give that to you right now. You’ve been the best thing about the last six months,” he said, making the other half of your anger fly out of the window. The validation was freeing, knowing that he felt the same way that you did.

“I don’t need that, Eddie-”

“Fine, but I want it,” he said, grabbing onto your shoulders. “I’m not asking you to start over, because I don’t want to throw it all away. You’re really important to me.” You were nodding along with him, letting the words go right from his mouth to your heart.

“Eddie,” you said softly, and he stopped right away. Whatever you had to say he would absorb wholly. But you didn’t say anything at all, just leaned forward and kissed him. He whined in relief and his knees went weak, leaning back against the porch railing to support himself and you.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled against you. You pulled away and saw that he kept his eyes closed, but wasn’t letting go of you.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I should have just talked to you.” Eddie shook his head and finally looked into your eyes. 

“Come home with me, please? I only came here to find you,” he admitted. You nodded and were going to say that you came to the party with similar intentions, even if they were subconscious, but the front door swung open before you could.

“Just checking to make sure Y/N didn’t murder you,” Robin stood in the doorway with a smile on her face, seeing you cuddled up to each other. “Come on, the night is young!” She grabbed your hand and pulled you inside. You smiled back at Eddie and he followed after you, not wanting to be without you for another second.

She’s the sweetest, the sweetest thing but I know she’s no good for me. Gonna take you home and take off your clothes, Baby, I’m nothing but bad news.

“I wish you two had never made up, you’re disgusting!” It was weeks later, and you and Eddie were more likely to be found in another country than without the big, goofy smiles that had been on your faces since you had made up and officially gotten together. At first, it was sweet, and everyone was happy that you were happy; but lately your affection was met with groans of overexposure.

Eddie pulled his face away from where it was nuzzled into your neck and glared at Steve, who had a pinched look on his face. Uncle Wayne got his hands on the half-priced groceries that were about to expire, and insisted that Eddie invite his friends over to help eat it all. 

As happy as he was to see Eddie with a nice group of friends, he was even happier when you became a fixture at the trailer.

“Jealous, Harrington?” he asked, squeezing your ass through your jeans and pulling a giggle from you.

“No, I am not jealous, I am trying to keep down my lunch,” he complained, leaning back and looking away.

“It’s cute,” Max said, kicking the leg of his chair and making him falter. “Plus, it shuts him up.”

“I am going to ignore that. But, seriously, how do you expect me to keep my hands off of her? She’s so sweet,” Eddie scraped his teeth along your cheek and you pushed him away, ticklish.

“Stop,” you smiled, although you all knew you didn’t mean it. 

“I’m with Steve, this is scarring,” Dustin frowned. Eddie pushed his hands up your shirt and rested them on your bare skin.

“Let me kick them out,” he begged. You didn’t, but were relieved when they left a while later. You and Eddie rushed around, cleaning up their mess so Wayne wouldn’t have to. When you were finally done and flopped down on the couch, he walked inside. You were itching, now, to touch Eddie the way he was unafraid to when your friends were around. After Wayne went into the bathroom to wash up, you pulled him close.

“Can we go to my house?” you whispered. He was going to ask why, but when you started to pull at his collar and rub your nose against his throat he understood.

“I thought you were tired?” he hummed, intently listening for the shower to shut off while you started to kiss his neck.

“Never too tired to take your clothes off,” you said, making his stomach flip.

“Baby, you’re bad news,” he took a deep breath and let you pull him up off the couch and towards the door. He called out a goodbye to his uncle before tripping over his feet after you as if you had him on a leash. 

Yeah, you still freaked him out. 

#stranger things 4 #st4 #stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #stranger things fic #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson fandom #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie stranger things #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson boyfriend #eddie munson brainrot #eddie munson concept #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson edit #eddie munson fics #eddie munson hurt/comfort #eddie munson masterlist #eddie munson oc #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson preference #eddie munson reader insert #eddie munson thoughts

[my-own-walker]

Someone You've Never Seen Before

A Kyle Spencer Fan Fiction

frat!kyle AU, fem!main character, sexual themes, mature language, use of drugs and alcohol, frat boy antics

5.

When I looked around campus, I saw bored rich kids pissing away their parents' fortunes. I especially saw it in Kyle Spencer. 

His douchebag face reeked of Daddy's money. He smelled strongly of Abercrombie cologne and hair gel. The way he popped the collars of the shirts he'd wear under his frat polos made me sick. I concluded that he had no real skills, aside from Calculus, and the only thing that made him interesting was how recklessly he'd act at parties. 

I couldn't fathom being stuck sitting next to him for the rest of the semester. We were only on week three, and my skin crawled at the very thought of him.

The walk to class had a familiar chill of fall in the air. New Orleans didn't have the kind of autumn I grew up with. The breeze in the air on this day, though, made it feel like home. I wore a flannel, band tee, and ripped jeans. I crossed my arms over my chest, hugging them close to myself. Despite heading to my least favorite class, I relished in the serene moment, the breeze kissing my face.

I reached the doors of the lecture hall and pulled my headphones out of my ears, pausing "Incinerate" by Sonic Youth and wrapping the headphone wire around my phone. I was typically the first, if not one of the first, people in the room for class. Being early was something that calmed me. It helped me feel in control.

To my surprise, as I stepped into the musty-smelling room, my eyes fell upon a shocking sight. My good mood shattered in an instant, like a window struck by a stray baseball, glass falling onto the ground with an unholy crash. Kyle was already there, sitting in his usual seat next to mine. His hair cascaded down, covering his face from my view.

I had a crucial decision to make as I stood there with my jaw touching the floor. It was a decision I had to make quickly before, god forbid, Kyle looked over at me and saw me pathetically contemplating my next move. To sit in my seat, or to not? On one hand, I could have my pick of the room, to sit anywhere but next to him. On the other hand, the rule-follower in me screamed to sit in my unassigned-assigned-seat and suck it up. 

Also, I couldn't show weakness like that, right? I couldn't wimp out and flee the first chance I got. That would show him that he had gotten to me. I heard someone cough behind me, trying to get by me. I, of course, was still standing in the way of the entrance.

My decision was made. I trotted down the stairs and slipped into my regular place in the fifth row, right next to Kyle. I unzipped my bag and pulled out my notebook. Several miscellaneous papers slid out of the pages, scattering expansively at my feet.

"Fuck," I muttered, bending over to gather up my faux pas hurriedly. Kyle stooped down too, picking up the papers that had fluttered and landed closer to him. He handed me a small stack before returning his attention to whomever he was texting.

My cheeks burned softly as I silently kicked myself for now dropping things two classes in a row. As mysterious and unbothered as I wanted to come off, I sure as hell wasn't fitting the part. I pulled my phone from my pocket and returned my headphones to my ears, deciding to listen to music before the lecture started. That would surely help me reset.

+

"Alright, now everyone," Professor Edwards began, "I know it's early, but I've covered all I wanted to cover this class period." The room immediately grew restless with the sounds of students packing their things and zipping up their bags. "But!"

The room collectively groaned. Shame on us for thinking we could get out early and have some time back in our day.

"I want to go over the project I have listed in the syllabus," he continued. "The differentiation project -- the one that will be due at the end of the semester." He gave us a moment to retrieve our syllabi from our things to look them over. "Now I know it seems early, but you will need a head start on this if you want to do well. It's rather open-ended, so you will need to think of a way to study and show me differentiation in a real-life scenario. That may sound daunting, so I have decided to make this a partner project."

I blew air out of my mouth upwardly, blowing the front strands of my hair up and out of my face. Even though I had an idea of what he might say next, the words: "Look at the person sitting next to you. That's your partner," still hit me like a ton of bricks. I looked to my right out of desperation, but the girl who sat on that side of me was already chatting away with her partner.

To my left, I heard Kyle say, "Over here, partner." I could hear the grin on his face.

"Awesome," I mustered through gritted teeth. "Okay."

"Now, guys," Professor Edwards called over the buzz of excited voices in the room. "Take ten minutes to chat with your partner and exchange contact information. We will use the end of class every Wednesday to break and discuss project details. I expect you to work on this outside of class, too. Now talk, I will let you know when you can go!"

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, dreading what the next ten minutes of class would entail. Kyle turned in his chair to face me better. He had a piece of scrap paper in front of him, pen perched over it ready to scribble down his information.

"You can just put your number in my phone," I muttered, offering the unlocked device to him.

"No thanks," he murmured, writing quite a bit of content on the sheet of paper. "I prefer this to be handwritten. I'm giving you my address."

"Why?"

"So you can come over and work on this shit," he replied. "I get distracted too easily at the library."

"Don't you live in the frat house?" I countered, testily. I sure as hell did not want to go anywhere near where he lived.

"Yes, but I have a bedroom to myself," he returned, looking up at me. "And don't take that the wrong way, kid."

"Kid?"

"Aren't you going to write your own stuff down for me? Or do I have to live in mystery?" Kyle smirked, folding up the piece of paper he'd written his number on.

"Right." I tore a piece of loose leaf out of my notebook and began writing my name, number, and email on the sheet. "Here you go," I said, sliding the paper onto his desk."Hope you can read it, my handwriting sucks."

"I know your name, you didn't have to put it on here," he stated, holding up my information.

"Well, yeah, but-"

"I figure we can start as early as this week. How does tomorrow sound? Meet at mine?" he interrupted.

"Christ, now?" I replied, baffled.

"Yeah, I want to get it done," he said, simply.

"We haven't covered any of this stuff yet, though," I tried in a sorry attempt to avoid having to see him outside of class for a little while longer. He sighed and shut his notebook, putting it away in his backpack.

"I know, Hannah, but I don't like to procrastinate. I have a free night tomorrow. Let's at least decide our topic, okay?"

"Fine," I resigned, seeing class was about to end. I wanted to escape as quickly as possible after our conversation. "What time?"

"Let's say 7," he answered. "Oh, right, here's my shit." He tossed the folded-up sheet onto my desk. It landed with an audible flop. I unfolded it, and to my horror, he had written his information on the piece I wrote for my poetry class. I looked up and met his eyes, a look of shock evident on my face.

The smile on his face made my stomach ball up so tight, I could scream. Kyle Spencer was such a pretentious piece of shit. His need to fuck with me was beginning to surpass normal levels. The entire class began to stand to leave, so I folded the sheet back up and shoved it into my bag, throwing the strap over my shoulder.

"Oh, Hannah," Kyle called after me before I could rush away. "I think you leaned too much on a cliche with that one." He gestured toward my bag, where the poem now resided. "Talking about eyes in conjunction with the concept of love, as well as describing eyes as 'sparkling' is elementary-level stuff. I know you could do better."

My eyes widened at the audacity of him and his words. Before I could even begin to muster a response, Kyle was up and out of his seat, already walking toward the exit. I stood, utterly deflated, ready to crawl into a hole and never come back out.

Previous Part | Next Part

#evan peters #evan peters fic #ahs #ahs coven #kyle spencer fanfic #kyle spencer

[bard-powers-activate]

TL/DR: Struggle anxiety and/or sensory issues during air travel? Find your cozy armor.

Traveling by airplane is often the only way we can get where we need to go, and unless you have crazy money it’s typically an uncomfortable and unpleasant experience from start to finish.

Enter Cozy Armor. The goal is to have at least one perfect outfit that can serve as your personal protection from the trip’s unpleasantness.

Start with your toes and work your way up.

Socks: Your most comfortable pair of STURDY socks. The temptation for fuzzy socks is real, but they get too hot when you walk a lot and when you take your shoes off at security you know every possible debris will stick to them and bother the hell out of you after shoes go back on

Shoes: Comfortable walking shoes that can be taken on and off quickly. It’s a little self-explanatory but anything to make security less of a pain in the ass is worth it, and airports often require a lot of walking

Pants: Think of the type of pants you’d wallow around the house and eat ice cream in, or throw on to quickly run to the gas station. These pants do NOT have to be cute, it’s kinda better if they aren’t. The most important thing is that they feel super comfy, have sturdy pockets so you aren’t stressed about your phone falling out or losing your earbuds, and aren’t too hot or thin of a material. You never know what temperatures to expect but typically air travel runs on the cold side. Again, remember the friction generated by walking a lot

Underthings: Unless they truly give you great personal comfort—no bra. Because fuck ‘em that’s why. I don’t care if they jiggle or the nipples show, it’s just not worth the discomfort. Everyone is more concerned with their own shit to stare at you anyway. If that’s too much for you, keep a comfy sports bra in your bag to take on and off as you feel is appropriate. Comfortable underwear, too, of course.

Top: The key here is to wear the softest shirt you own. My personal tip—pick an ugly shirt you have no interest in wearing anywhere else.

I wear the same outfit every single time I fly. Same pants, same shirt in my least favorite shades of greens, whites, and yellows. Personally, wearing the ugliest outfit I can while being as cozy as possible makes me feel like I’m telling everyone looking at me to fuck right off.

OTHER ESSENTIALS for your carry-on

Headphones: Noise-cancelling are the best but whatever you have works. I try to spend as little time as possible with my headphones off/not playing my comfort music. (Consider keeping a pair of wired headphones in your travel bag because some flights make you buy theirs and you don’t want to feel like watching a movie and not be able to)

Make sure your favorite albums/playlists are downloaded to your phone while you’re still on wifi!!!

YOU CAN PACK SNACKS: I forget this one all the time, but food can be brought through security!!! If there aren’t good food options in your airport or the prices are too high, some high protein and fibrous snacks can save the day (think jerky, nuts, dried fruit, etc).

Portable battery and every type of charger you’d need during the trip. Remember to include any chargers for headphones or game systems as well as phone chargers

A small pillow—never know when you’ll need to crash for a few minutes on a flight or during a layover

An eye mask! You won’t need it every flight, but the times you do it’s a life-saver

Refillable water bottle so you don’t get thirsty and feel tempted to buy their $7-$10 waters

If the ascension makes your ears hurt, consider bringing gum to chew on

A book, small puzzle, notebook and pen, or other non-digital media in case you’re stuck without signal or wifi or just need a break from electronics for a while

If I think of more stuff I’ll edit this post later. The more you mentally prepare yourself for air travel, the easier it gets to don your armor and get through it.

Hope this helps some folks!

#air travel #sensory issues #traveling with sensory issues #cozy armor

[dredshirtroberts]

well the tape has not gotten any easier to deal with but at least i'm starting to accept my fate continuing for the next 26 hours. the amount of joy and satisfaction that's going to come from taking this shit off is going to be so big i'd have had to record it in my heartbeat diary if i still had the thing on.

sleeping was... interesting. Thankfully i normally sleep with wired headphones in so i'm used to being attached to a device for at least part of my sleep cycle. That said, sleeping was still a nightmare. When i *was* able to really get some good snorks and mimimis in, i was having nightmares or having my brain jumpscare me awake for No Reason I Can Tell. Like the falling sensation but like. without the falling sensation, just suddenly "Wah! i'm awake!" which, y'know. fun.

i'm also like. struggling with the Awareness factor. it's that "am i feeling my heart doing something or am I just Aware I Have A Heartbeat" sort of deal. Which like. I know is the point of what we're doing here is to see what the fuck is going on and if it's Heart Related or if it's like. Some other thing.

It does not help I also had a really bad anxiety moment yesterday and i can't tell if i was having a hard time because of Mainly That or if it was all separate issues yesterday. so that's y'know. fun.

i hate this. i hope it gives me all the answers we need so i never have to do this again. the tape alone is my own personal actual hell. i know it's there to keep things attached/tamped down so it doesn't pull or tug, but like. i can't do it, guys. It's so fucking itchy i am going to have the *worst* rashes in perfect rectangles all over my torso and they're going to be so fucking uncomfortable because - and this is the stupidest part - i won't be able to cover them with bandaids to protect the raw parts because the bandaids will make shit worse due to the additonal adhesives.

and like yeah, the tape is bad enough on its own! and then, then you have the Wires. which either are digging into my skin to keep them from moving around and then creating divots that later fill with blood and itch when the wires are no longer digging in, or the wires are moving around and tickling me constantly. My chest skin is already some of my most sensitive skin this is just an absolute nightmare honestly.

but it's going the way it's supposed to, none of this is abnormal it's just... annoying as fuck and that's why I never want to do this again.

#holter monitor journey #i had more events yesterday than i had anticipated #but not as many as i feared it was going to be when i looked back at my notes to put them into my diary more succinctly #oh god okay i gotta stop trying to fuck with the tit electrode #it's the one in the most danger of being picked at because that's a normal picking spot and now it's Covered with a tantalizing Sticker #come on we can do it. nearly there. just one more solid day of this and we take it off tomorrow morning. hhhh

[cheetagon]

I'm about to commit a fucking felony I swear to god

I forgot my headphones at my partner's place so I decided to use some of the wired inears I still have lying around until I get them back, because why would I spend money on new headphones anyway. Except that I can't use inears anymore because they're fucking sensory HELL. I keep fiddling around with them because they WILL NOT stay in my fucking ears (no it's not the size of the rubber nibs, do you know how many fucking sizes I tried over the years???), and once I got them to finally fit the vacuum they produce in my ears hurts so fucking much it's better not to use them at all. And I didn't even touch on the subject of the wires that get stuck on every little piece of my fucking clothes and rip them out by force or the adapter I have to use on my phone that keeps poking me in the appendix every time I dare to sit down.

Howeverrrrr if I don't I have my fucking ADHD screaming at me to put on music while on public transport because there's no fucking way we can go 30 fucking minutes without having any form if auditive stimulation can we :))))))

I am literally about to scream, the next person to talk to me is going to get stabbed smfh

#personal #vent #headphones #autism #adhd #I'm not actually going to stab anyone #I'm more likely to just break down crying ngl #why does this have to happen #maybe I'll just end up stabbing myself

[mochatoon]

I think my mom was tryna gaslight me last night

So uh, last night I was looking for my beats case cuz my headphones were about to die n I couldn’t find them. I was in my moms room cuz I don’t have a bed or a door (she even recently took the bed board I was sleeping on) n I was about to retrieve my case, where I thought they were, from the edge of the bed. They weren’t there. I started to panic because I was watching an iceberg on SAW !

I checked under the cover, wasn’t there. I checked the bathroom, wasn’t there. I checked the den where I do my business at, wasn’t there. I checked the laundry room, wasn’t there. I checked the kitchen, wasn’t there. Hell, I even checked my kinda sorta abandoned room, it wasn’t fucking there. I checked all these areas a good 10 times before I ultimately had to give up n use the.. the wired headphones I had…

See with music, n mostly on my iPhone in general, the quality is peak. As for when I use it on my iPad it’s uh.. Well.. It’s definitely sound I guess. Not to mention they’re kinda annoying to have in my ears. Look I’m getting sidetracked.

So basically, I sadly fell asleep on the video, n when I woke up (keep in mind before I lost my case, I walked back in the room to see that she was getting stuff off of her bed n most likely saw my case) my case just magically appeared n I was so happy but frightened n confused. I asked her “how did it appear?” N she said I was on top of it.. I call bullshit because

1. She didn’t lift me up to see if I was

2. It was in front of my iPad

I was laying on my stomach with the iPad propped up. My body was also, still kinda sorta is, aching so I most DEFINITELY would’ve felt that hard ass case.

Also while I was looking for it, she asked me “Why you always loosing something” I said “I don’t know” To make it worse she wasn’t even laughing n didn’t say “gotcha bitch” so it’s most definitely can’t be a prank.

[desertgourd]

warnings for drug mentions and angst

The time is eight forty-three in the morning and Gaara stands outside the methadone clinic like cattle before the slaughter.

He isn't the only one. A group of mothers with Kool-Aid dye jobs lean on the handles of their strollers and suck down cigarettes while they gossip about the shirtless construction crew across the street.  In the one week since his acceptance into the clinic he has never seen them break from their pack. They were not unkind, speaking to him only to ask if he is waiting on the coffee machine, or to thank him for holding the door, or to watch my purse while I piss, can ya, thanks hon. Yet in time he has ceased to see them as individuals at all, their existences reduced instead to a congealed mass for which he harbors an sort of instinctual but impersonal distaste, the way he does for tilapia or waking up with a crick in his neck. Today, as he wills away a migraine latched onto the back of his skull, his patience wears thin.

He leans back against the brick wall of the building. It's nondescript, so much so that he passed it three times and was ten minutes late for his initial intake. No sign above the door. Shoved between a knockoff luxury purse store and a third-tier travel agency that hasn't seen good business since the second world war. The weather is mild, which is why the security guard is making them all stand out front until the place opens instead of letting them loiter in the lobby as he had the last few days of rain. Gaara has uncrossed and recrossed his arms at least five times. He inspects the backs of his hands, pale, cracked dry over the knuckles. Gnaws on his lower lip, tasting metal. Presses his fingertips into the cool blue veins shining through the bronze of his skin, ignoring the mottled dots that make the flesh of his inner elbow look like something out of a crime scene. He’s never been fidgety, but when his body wages a war against itself it is all he can do to quell his nerves blazing like live wires and the acute sense of suffocating in his own skin.

Eight fifty-one. He sinks down to a crouch. One of the mothers flicks her eyes over him then dismisses him, not worth her concern. She's barely five years older than he is - pushing thirty, at most - but her face is already a knotted web of wrinkles beneath the heavy foundation and eyebrows like bits of string tacked on somewhere below her hairline. It is a face that has weathered through more lifetimes than she cares to count, who knows acutely that in this world the only choices you have are to go forward or to die.

Two buildings over a pair of older men hunker down on the stoop of a deli with their hands shoved in their pockets and their chins up at every passerby. Loosies, loosies, loosies, they mutter in turn, a cultish chant. Fi dolla headphones, fi dolla, JordansBeatsSony, get em fi dolla. His toes clench until the muscles send spasms up his calves. He stands, leans again, chews the inside of his cheek, watches them from the corner of his peripheral vision. Gaara knows one drag will send him to the hospital with stopped-up lungs but god he'd take anything over the nerves.

A wave of fury slaps him so hard it nearly knocks him off his feet. Fuck Temari. Fuck her self-righteous bullshit, the superiority she lorded over him like a prize, fuck the way she clawed her way out from their hell unscathed while he bore the brunt of who knows how many generations of poison, passed on like a defect, like a disease.

Fuck that she cared.

Fuck that even though she deleted all his old hit-ups off his phone he can still name a dozen street corners where he can find bliss again, and fuck how badly he wants to. The need for it curdles every cell in his body, digs into his liver and throat and the beds of his nails. He thought it'd get easier. In a way it has. Gaara has come miles from his shivering lump of a body in the throes of withdrawal, from Kankuro all but spoonfeeding him soup for days, from his own father's funeral which he, of course, missed. But the road before him stretches to an end he cannot see, and if anything terrifies Gaara it is unpredictability. Put one foot in front of the other, said the case manager he is mandated to see twice a month as part of his treatment. Every second you spend looking back is a lost chance to look forward.

A few yards off - where the brick wall cuts off into a chainlinked-fence parking lot - some noise bubbles up from the flock of women. One of them has slighted her friend’s boyfriend of the month. Or accused another of stealing her last pack of Newports. Or made to snap in the face of some kid and the kid's mom didn't like it. A repeat performance; same act, different play. The disagreement rises to a yell, a child screams, and Gaara only glances over to make sure they aren't about to drag him into the fray.

Two past nine. They're late. His temples sear and there is one person he wants to call but can't, and one person he knows he should but he can't do that, either, or won't, for an entirely different reason. He'll be in and out in twenty, and then he can spend the rest of the day doing fuck-all (it's his day off, thank god, he'd be halfway to calling in sick otherwise, it's some miracle he hasn't been fired). Maybe hit up Kankuro for lunch. It isn't like he has any other friends. Maybe take a Benadryl and knock himself out until dark. That one isn't a counselor-approved activity but it's a hell of a lot better than the way he used to spend his afternoons. Always forward, never back, right?

The spat by the parking lot subsides. They tap away on their phones and shoot furtive glances at each other in the aftermath, ignoring the whimpers of their toddlers. Cliques forming and reforming. They're on their second or third cigarettes each, judging by the accumulated butts crushed in the gum-pocked concrete beneath them. Anything to take off the edge. Gaara finds himself envious, then disgusted by them, and then by himself.

When the doors to the clinic swing open at five past Gaara shoots in like a bullet, scrawling his name in the lobby sign-in sheet and punching the elevator button before the scent of dollar store perfume and baby formula can follow. Half an hour later he walks out on a cloud. Past the men panhandling on the corner, past a parking attendant wrangling a few truant teens off the lot. It’s a far cry from what he’s known for years, a happy meal to-go compared to a five-course dinner at the Ritz.  But it staves off the worst of it and makes him feel a little more in control of his own body and whatever ruins are left of his life, so he'll be back tomorrow. And the day after that, and the day after that, until the three-month mark when they trust him enough to not scarf down a week’s supply in one go. He wonders, as he swipes his card onto the bus and shuffles into the first open seat, if that is now how he must measure his future: Dollops of time snatched between the fuel he needs to survive. A desperate scrabble toward a future looming in the distance, unknown. It’s what he’s used to, only this time the process is approved and monitored by a team of medical professionals and he feels a little less like death doing it. This time he is a little less alone.

The bus shuttles down the dense city streets, streets Gaara has seen a hundred times and will see thousands of times more before his journey ends, although he doesn’t know this yet. He doesn’t know that with each foot he puts in the right direction the path before him grows tenfold, new tufts of green sprouting from cracks in the cement, clouds clearing to the sort of yellow-gray sky after the storm. It isn’t something something he will realize until he looks back and sees the forest bloomed around him, the fruits borne of the very seeds he’s sown.

For now he counts each stop and turn, a knee tucked to his chest, and doesn’t even mind when a pothole jolts him half to the floor. He merely picks himself back up again. Strange how habits form.

Maybe he’ll go see his brother. It’s been a while.

#drugs tw #tw drugs #how do the kids tag things these days #self!write #modern!au

[glitchdollmemoria]

big stupid drunk trauma vent time, kids stay away etc etc, idk wtf to tag this as so just fucking warning for the r slur and ptsd bullshit and me being an alcie

man im tired of substance use issues being shameful im tired of the phrase "substance abuse" im tired of feeling like im doing something wrong im tired of feeling like i need to keep it hidden so people dont look down on me or worry about me or pity me or get angry again. im fucking tired of not being able to go a day sober from one thing or another. im tired of all this bullshit and im tired of feeling like i need to do something to get attention and simultaneously feeling horrified at the thought of anyone so much as looking in my direction right now. im tired of overstimulation and understimulation. i feel like im just some fucking crazy schizo retard who cant manage to do jack shit and i know im talking nonsense but whatever im fucking wasted so who even cares. i can barely remember whatever i said in the last sentence. im fucking tired of stupid fucking bluetooth headphones and the battery dying and leaving me without my music to regulate myself. fuck capitalist bullshit for phasing out headphone jacks and fuck me for losing track of my wired headphones that i could use with my computer if i even still have them, idk maybe some fucking cat chewed them up i dont remember. i have a stomachache from drinking too much and i keep thinking about that fucking person who chastised me saying theres better things to do than make myself sick like this as if i fucking have any alternatives. im tired tired tired of all this fucking garbage and i want to get it through my thick skull that im cared about but it doesnt work. i want to ask for help but i dont know how to without completely losing my shit from the shame and guilt so the best i can do is tuck this little whiny letter onto my dumbass blog and then try not to think im being guilt trippy. i want less distance, i wanna live in the same neighborhood as my friends and be able to check on them and get checked on, i want my partner to be here but i dont because he deserves better than what i am right now, i wanna stop having a hole in my stomach, i wanna feel okay at night, i want to stop thinking about all the shitty trauma that keeps piling up, i want to fucking feel okay and i dont know if its human nature to feel completely okay and maybe thats what were all chasing and maybe thats what drives us but it fucking hurts in the meantime. i want to stop being so fucking crazy all the time. i wanna drink until i throw up and then get comforted and be allowed to rest and feel sick for as long as i need to feel sick because the sick i normally feel isnt fucking good enough for anyone. i want yo fucking shut up already but i cant stop fucking talking because this is the only way i know how to ask for help!!! i know im seen as fucking pathetic by so many people because thats what people fucking tell me, im some miserable fuck whos pitiful and lesser and its fucking fine okay i get it, but i dont know what to do about it except drink and smoke and drink and smoke and get fucking left behind when im not sexy or fun or financially stable anymore. i dont like thinking about the shit people have done to me and i wanna know its done and over but i dont think it ever will be because theres always gonna be someone feeding into my stupid inferiority complex. i hate it and i dont know what the hell is salvageable anymore

[saint-magdalena]

thing #8 Friday, October 21, 2022 7:54 am

it’s that time of day where i debate with myself on whether not i should go to sleep. i’m still in my clothes form yesterday, i haven’t taken my makeup off either. and yes, i actually went outside today. well, yesterday i mean. i haven’t slept yet other than a three hour nap in the middle of the day. i’ll do the spiel some other time.

i impulsively ordered like five houseplants online today. i have never cared for houseplants before. this is my first time adopting a plant and i got five whole-ass plants. well, at least if one of them dies i won’t be too devastated. wait, actually, i did have one plant at one time. it was a succulent and i killed it. so, yeah those five plants are doomed. doesn’t hurt to be positive though, i’m actually gonna try to keep them alive this time.

i’m currently having a resurgence of my obsession with ashnikko. i forgot how good listening to her songs felt. not only is it an outlet for unencumbered feminine rage, the beeps and boops feel heavenly on my ears. so currently, i have the akg pro k72s, which are so fucking good on its own honestly. a good week of research had to be done until i could finally settle on a pair that i liked. they had to be affordable, have good sound, and of course they had to be cute. i actually planned on getting one of those cute cat ear headphones, but the only one with decent sound that i could fine were the razer kitty ones, and uh yeah, totally out of my budget. so i had to forego the cute aspect at that point, but when i found it, the k72s aren’t actually that bad at all in terms of cuteness. i’m definitely gonna crochet a little cover thing for it. i’ll add dragon ears and leaves and shit, it’s gonna be great. my order for like a bunch of yarn just arrived so i’m so ready to eat through that. it’s not like drawing and being on my desk 24/7 wasn’t enough to induce early onset arthritis. idk if that actually causes arthritis but whatever i’m going with it anyways. oh yeah, headphones. my only gripe about the k72s are that they are studios headphones, which yes, make for this amazing and bright sound. but this thing has like a thick ass 3 METER WIRE and it’s also bulky as hell. the bulkiness is actually cute, but not very practical.

i’ve been looking into any affordable options for bluetooth headphones. yeah there aren’t any. most affordable ones that i could find were like 400 bucks. and that’s just with decent sound. most of these bluetooth headphones are ugly as hell. so i probably won’t buy a pair until i get a sugar daddy or something idk.

this i kinda all i feel like talking about right now, i kinda need a nap before my math class later. i probably won’t even attend, it probably doesn’t matter. i’m getting sleepy now adn i just got a notification for proof of attendance for a conference i didn’t attend. great timing wow. yeah, this was. a very very short one but i’m gonna avoid my responsibilities now byeee