#i told you i'd do it tippy

[hua-fei-hua]

*flopped down on a couch w/a glass bottle of apple juice to make it look like i'm drinking beer*

yeah... yeah i'm fine.... just coming to terms w/the fact that i must use javascript in order to achieve my vision w/the neocities...

#the main reason i haven't just abandoned this particular aspect of the Vision(tm) is bc it would be useful for like. #more than one thing. so it's like. le sigh. #(reading the documentation for tippy tooltips tonight so that i can sleep on it n try to implement it tmrw or something) #why is it always js.... please god spare me at least a Little bit of suffering here i'll never sin again etc etc #speaking of sin i've started speaking more candidly abt my queerness w/the kids at work this week #it's nice to talk to the older kids (as in fifth grade or older) bc even tho like. nine years old is when they start to be tolerable #they lack awareness n life experience. today i told the older kids that i like men but in a gay way #n one of them was like 'i don't get it' n then i reminded her of Gender:tm: n she was like 'ohhhh i get it' #n the two guys also listening were like 'what. i still don't get it.' ONE OF THEM ASKED ME IF I WAS AMAB ACTUALLY LOL #n i was like 'what? that's not important.' but that was really surprising! kids usually read me as female #so it was kind of flattering in a way to be asked 'were you born a boy?' like idk how he's trying to process my gender #but i'm going to flatter myself into thinking the question comes from him like. idk clocking some kind of innate masculinity or w/e idk #花話 #anyway it's Crazy that it took me almost a year to not feel like i'd get instantly fired for telling kids i'm queer #Not going to lie it really felt like i'd never get to this point but it really is kinda just once you start it gets easier #(though to be fair i also wouldn't have told Any of the kids Anything had one of them not started acting like 'gays' was a dirty word) #(n i just Looked at him n said 'you know i'm a queer right?' n he was like 'O_O') #when i worked at homophobic summer camp i do remember daydreaming abt telling my boss i was a 'flaming queer' #i'd have put my feet up on her desk n everything as i made direct eye contact w/her but ofc i never did anything like that. #anyway! i will slep now so that i can get back to work on my projects tmrw morning

[mixedfandomer]

#i told you i'd do it #is it clear i ship clemmons with bob #imma call it #fireshipping #because i dont think its taken #if it is ill change it #clemmons lca #harl hubbs #tippy dorman #buster lloyd #lca #lego city adventures #findersshipping

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Just Take It | Bonus Drabble 1

Summary: An encounter with a cashier leaves Jungkook ready to cause a scene Pairing: Inexperienced f!reader x Best Friend's Dad Jungkook (20 year age gap) Word Count: 1K~ Warning: Explicit and suggestive language. Jungkook threatens to kill someone but like not really lol that's pretty much it a/n: This was an ask I got but both the anon and I'm sure a bunch of you love seeing jealous Jungkook so here's a short chapter of something that happened after they started dating 🤭 p.s. written in one sitting and barely edited Start from the beginning

"Can you wait in line for a second Darling? I forgot I needed to get one more thing" Jungkook asks me and I nod my head, humming as he places a kiss on my temple and rushes off to another part of the store.

While I wait mindlessly in line I end up getting lost in the different covers of magazines that are displayed around me in line. Leaving me obvious as to the fact that the cashiers have been switched out. Now having changed from a older man to one who's closer to my age that has been shamelessly checking me out since he laid his eyes on me.

Once I get closer to the front of the line I start to get a little antsy, seeing as Jungkook hasn't come back yet and I had forgotten my purse in the car. Lucky for me though there's no one else behind me in line so I won't have to worry about holding someone up.

"Did you find everything alright miss?" the man asks, having his eyes tracing up and down my figure after he finished helping the customer before me.

"Oh um, yes I did thanks. I'm just waiting for my boyfriend to come back" I point out, quickly seeing the look in his eyes.

I turn around and get on my tippy toes as if that would aide me in finding him faster but I can't seem to spot him anywhere.

I turn back around to face the cashier and notice that he's started to scan each item slower and slower and I'm not sure if it's his plan to keep me here longer or to prevent an awkward lull in the process.

Once he's scanned the last item and is ready to accept payment I look back at him and awkwardly laugh and he gives me a crooked smile in return.

"So about this boyfriend of yours, are things pretty serious? Because if you were mine I would never do something like this to you. Always make sure to keep you close and comfortable" he says, dropping his voice an octave, clearly trying his hand at seducing me.

"I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself" I say and pull out my phone to pay instead, deciding that I'll just have Jungkook pay for whatever else he went to look for separately.

Once the cashier cues the system up for me to pay I feel a hand on my waist and relax, knowing exactly who it is.

"Add this one too" Jungkook says, coming back with my favorite ice cream that we had ran out of a few days ago.

The cashier clears his throat and cancels the payment, quickly adding on said item to the total before cueing up the system again and Jungkook places his card on the reader to pay.

"I thought I'd lost you" I say, laughing awkwardly while the cashier packs up our groceries. "I told you I'd be back. I just couldn't find it because you like the most random flavors that are placed in the weirdest of sections" he teases, placing a quick kiss on my lips.

He glares back up at the cashier who is nervously watching our exchange and audibly gulps once Jungkook cocks a brow at him.

"Next time, take a second before you start thinking with your dick alright?" Jungkook growls out, clearly holding himself back but needing to say something regardless.

"Yes sir" is the only response the cashier gives him, bowing his head as a means of apology but it still doesn't sit right with Jungkook leaving me having to physically usher him out of the store.

"Are you okay?" he asks once we're at his car, loading up the groceries after he's taken a second to calm down.

"I'm fine, although I'm glad that you came when you did. I was beginning to think he was going to try to ask me for my number or something" I say and I watch as Jungkook tongues his cheek, knowing that I probably should've kept some of this interaction to myself.

"Did you tell him you have a boyfriend?" he asks, placing the last bags in the trunk and shutting it a tiny bit harder than he usually would.

"Yeah but he didn't seem to care, asked if we were really that serious" I say, digging his grave deeper and deeper.

"I'm gonna kill him" he growls, making moves to head back inside and I run after him not being able to keep up with his long strides any other way and yank on his arm.

"No come on, let's just go. I'm perfectly fine alright. Let's just go home. Please?" I ask, making sure to add a little more pout than I usually would. A tactic that I hope will work to get him to calm down and forget about it.

He takes a deep breath and nods his head, letting me lead him back to the car and he opens the door for me but before I get in he put a hand on my waist and leaves me frozen in place.

"When we get home I'm gonna show you just how serious I am about you. Okay Bunny?" he asks, posed as more of a threat than anything else leaving me shivering, thinking about what I've gotten myself into.

I let out a choked back 'okay' before he slaps my ass and tells me to get in the car leaving me already clenching, dying to know what he's going to do to me

When he sits in the drivers side beside me he starts the car and places a hand on the back of my seat looking out the back window to help him back out before switching gears back into drive.

He immediately places his hand on my thigh, sliding it up my skirt and starts tracing patterns on the inside of my thigh, driving me absolutely insane from just these simple touches.

I'm fucked.

Hopelessly, painfully, deliciously fucked and I can't help but count the minutes until we get home.

Series Masterlist

Taglist: @jkslipppiercing @trina864 @kaitieskidmore97 @goddesofimortality @coolbluedude @00frenchfries00 @bangtans-momma @coralmusicblaze @pastelpinkjoon @joonwater @marvelbun @j3nni-rs @evidive @beomieboi @forevrglow @jesssssmaybankk @teugiie @chaconnelatte @whoa-jo @snehal @xumyboo @mindurbuzznezz @diorh0seokie

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook #fanfic #fanfiction #kpop #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #bts #kpop fanfic #ask #jungkook bts #jungkook x original character #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #just take it #jti

[remuslupinslittleslut]

Amy's Kinkmas Day Ten

Size Kink - Remus Lupin x Reader

Masterlist.

Standing on your tippy toes, you reach up to kiss your boyfriend. As Remus is much taller than you, he has to lean down to meet your lips.

"You're so tiny", he chuckles, resting his chin on your head.

"'M not", you huff, leaning your head back to look up at him.

His hands around your waist squeeze, almost lifting you of your feet. He walks you backwards to stand in front of the mirror, spinning you around.

He's right, in front of him, you do look tiny. Your arms cross over your chest, "I'm not tiny."

His hand comes up to wrap lightly around your throat, "don't start a fight you can't finish", Remus says.

Your eyes roll back, not in the mood of being told that you're tiny. This, apprently, was not the best move, Remus, in one smooth movement lift you up, pushing you onto the bed and climbing on top of you, his whole body wrapped around you.

"What was that, huh?" He's leaning on his lower arms, planted on either side of your head, his hips rolling once, to push his groin against you.

In this position you feel very small, his strong arms encircling you, broad shoulders covering your line of vision, heavy body against yours, "'s nothing."

He tsks, rolling his hips once more, head leaning down to kiss you again, "baby, you're so small, if i layed down I'd cover all of you", his lips kiss your nose, "it's truly amazing you even fit m'cock in you".

At the mention of his cock, you instinctively let out a whimper, it's so big, stretching you so good.

"Please", you whine, "I can take it, please."

He laughs, kissing along your jaw, "nah, baby, you're so little, gonna have to stretch you first."

This is necessarily true, but you're not going to object to his fingers filling you up. Kissing down your body, his fingers slip beneath your skirt, pulling your panties down, "there's m'pretty girl", he speaks lowly, directly into your core. Kissing your clit, his fingers start playing around your hole, circling the opening and lightly pushing the tip of his finger in.

Your hand reached down into his hair, pulling his head closer, making him moan against your sensitive bud.

He's eating like a starved man, licking, slurping, kissing. His fingers take their time in opening your hole, one finger slowly entering as his tongue licks around it. It doesn't take him many minutes before a second finger joins in, moving at a fast pace, making your back arch, moans slipping from your lips.

His lips pull away, eyes moving to your face, gauging your reaction as a third finger slips in. The stretch feels nice, it's nothing against his cock but it's definately a change from just the two.

"Go on love, let go, come for me", as his fingers plunge in and out of you, his mouth leaves small kisses along your tummy. Your fingers tense in his hair as your legs start shaking, your orgasm washing over you.

His fingers finally pull out, and he licks them clean, you know he doesn't want to waste your taste.

"Think you're ready for my cock now, little love?" He asks, dry hand pushing hair out of your face, as he kissing your forehead.

You nod, "yeah, please Remmy, so ready."

He pulls his cock free, giving it a few tugs, before lining up with your opening. His lips connect with yours, kissing you as he pushes in.

He fits, for sure, but it is a stretch, walls opening up to take him. It almost hurts, but he's used to you and knows you need the warm up, always having lube on hand in case you need it.

Your hands wrap around him, one arm around his back and one around his neck, holding him close to you. His upper body completely covers you, making him a human weighted blanket.

"Fuck, baby, you're so tight", he moans, hips moving back and forth, "feel so good around me."

You love it when he tells you things like this, your walls clamping down even harder when he tells you filthy words.

"You're so small, so tiny, could probably break you in two, split you on m'cock", his control over the movement of his hips is staggering, the rhytm falling as he's chasing his high.

"Not gonna last babe, shit, so good for me", you love this, love making him feel so big and strong and sexy, love having him fill you almost the second he fills you up. You love knowing how sexy he finds you, knowing that you make him feel this good.

His hips move against yours in a final, hard thrust, before stilling as his cock almost vibrates in emtying his seed inside you, white spurts painting your walls, filling your little cunt not only with cock. This is what gets you, feeling him come inside you, and you shudder as a second, weaker, orgasm washes over you.

Remus collapsed over you, and as the intensity of your orgasm wavers you push on him, "Remmy get off, you know I'm too small for this."

Kinkmas taglist: @alexxander-arcturus-black-lupin @hearts4court @delulu4marauders @remussbitch

#amathelia writes #mywriting #fanfic #marauders era #remus lupin #smut #marauders #amy’s kinks 2023 #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin smut

[sweetsweetjellybean]

After the kiss you can't forget about, your past and present with Eddie collide under the glow of the city lights and the glittering stars at the City Beats launch party.

Masterlist Listen to Clumsy Here

What to expect: Second Chance Romance set in 2012 Chicago.  Eddie and Steve are in their 30s. Fem!Reader is given a pet name from each of the guys. No other name mentioned. No use of Y/N. No physical description. Reader does have a bit of personality, as I find it nearly impossible to keep her blank for such a long fic. You may find yourself at times making choices that you wouldn't normally make, but I hope you can put that aside and enjoy the ride. Sensitive Content. 18+ Mentions of DV. Smut Guaranteed happy ending. This is my love letter to Eddie Munson.

WC: 11646 beta'd by @superblysubpar

“Stop being such a baby and just let me look.”

The light in Eddie’s bathroom buzzes with a slight flicker, casting a pallid tint over the worn linoleum and water-stained sink.

“I don’t recall anyone asking for your services here, Florence Nightingale,” Eddie grumbles, perched on the edge of the vanity with a blood-soaked washcloth pressed against his forehead. The knuckles on his right hand are swollen and split, and the scrape along his jaw is already turning colors. 

You pour a little iodine on a cotton ball you grabbed from the first-aid kit— the one your dad made you keep in your car for emergencies, though this probably isn’t what he had in mind. “Who else is going to patch you up?” you question, shifting until you’re standing in the space between his spread legs.

With a sigh, he lowers the washcloth and tosses it into the sink. Blood wells up in the gash above his brow, the skin around it swollen and purple. As gently as possible, you dab around the cut with cotton.

“Oww.” He winces and leans away. “That shit stings.”

"Sorry." You push up on your tippy toes, drawing closer, one hand resting on his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breath. The scent of his apple shampoo tickles your nose as his hand moves to your hip, anchoring you. You purse your lips and blow gently over his wound to soothe the sting. His chest expands with a sharp intake of breath.

"Better?" you whisper, a flood of butterflies taking flight within you. His fingers press tighter into your skin, your shirt inching upward, eliminating the barrier between his touch and your warmth. 

"Yeah." His throat bobs, his gaze roaming your face.

“Are you going to tell me what happened?” 

His grip on you loosens as his eyes fall away.

You pick up one of the butterfly strips, pulling back the adhesive tabs. “You said you weren’t going to do anything. I asked you not to.” 

The faucet drips into the cracked tub as you press the strip into place. “It was my choice to end things, Eddie. It didn’t feel…it wasn’t going to go anywhere.”

He grabs your fingers, holding them away. “Then maybe you shouldn’t have been running around with him in the first place.”

The anger in his tone has you stepping back until you can feel the towel bar pressing into your shoulders. He stands and faces away from you, shaking his head.

“So what? I’m a slut now?” Your voice is small in the cramped space, bouncing off half-filled bottles of shampoo and shaving cream. Maybe you shouldn’t have told him about losing your virginity to Parker Hayes in the backseat of his mom’s Chevy last weekend. But that’s something you tell your best friend, right? Eddie has certainly never shied away from sharing his sexual exploits with you. Maybe, deep down, you had been hoping for some kind of reaction, but not this. 

“No.” His shoulders slump as he turns to face you, the hardness in his stance softening. “I don't think that way,” he explains, his voice growing gentler, “and I'd never think that about you. I want you to date. I want you to have everything. I just want to…” The rest of the sentence dies in his throat as a familiar shadow falls over his eyes, dimming their warmth. “I guess this is what happens when you're friends with a chick,” he chuckles.

“Might have been easier if Gareth had moved down the street instead of me.” You switch gears to match his tone, a familiar move after all this time.

“Yeah, you’re a pain in the ass,” he says, attempting a smile that doesn’t quite make it to his eyes. “Speaking of Gareth, I got a thing.” His gaze drops to his wrist, but he’s never worn a watch. “Lock up when you leave, alright?” 

You're still standing in his bathroom when the front door clicks closed. 

Your hands smooth down the skirt of your long-sleeved mini-dress. Its modest front sits elegantly at your collarbone, but the back—you twist your head to check the mirror behind you—the back dramatically plunges to just above the curve of your ass.

“Wow.” Steve stands stopped in his tracks at the entrance of your walk-in closet, his eyes drinking you in. “You look like a sunset.” He moves behind you, pressing a kiss to the bare skin of your shoulder as his hand slides over the rose gold sequins covering your dress. 

“You’re not too shabby yourself, handsome.” You turn to get the full effect of his designer camel-striped suit with a bright mustard tie. “I always like you in yellow,” you tell him, running a finger down the cool silk. 

His smile widens as he grips your hips, spinning you back towards the mirror, wrapping his arms around your middle. “We should do this more often,” he says, holding your gaze in the reflection.

“What?” you ask, crossing your arms over his. “Launch streaming radio services?”

“No, smart ass.” His lips find your temple. “Get dressed up like this and go out. With everyone coming, do you know what it reminds me of?”

“Dare I ask?” You flutter your lashes. 

His grip on you tightens in a deliberate firmness that has you tensing. He steals another kiss, pausing for a moment before saying, “Prom.”

“Uck,” you moan, stepping out of his arms and moving to the island to pick up a pair of earrings. “Your parents went to prom? How sad.”

“Come on. Not them.” He shoves his hands in his pants pockets, his gaze tracking your movements. “Everyone else, though. Didn’t you have fun at prom?”

“I don’t remember,” you shrug, attaching the diamond to your lobe.

“Of course not. How stupid of me,” his tone drips sarcasm as he shakes his head, “How could I have forgotten about your Hawkins amnesia.”

The shrill melody of his ringtone sounds from the bedroom, pulling him away before words can escalate. Lately, high school memories seem to invade every conversation, leaving a residue of guilt that clings tighter with each mention. Alone, you face the mirror, taking a steadying breath. He’s under a lot of pressure. This is his night. You plaster a smile on your face, forcing a semblance of calm. You owe him.

With a final glance, you slip on a nude pair of heels and move to the bedroom to let him know you're ready. Steve’s phone is discarded on the bed beside him, where he sits with slumped shoulders and his hands raking through the hair he had just spent time styling. 

“Baby?” You keep your voice soft as you sit down next to him, your hand moving to rub circles on his back. “What’s going on?”

He glances up, only now becoming aware of your presence. "It's my parents," he murmurs, his lashes fluttering with rapid blinks as he pinches the bridge of his nose. "They've decided not to come."

“What? But they’re at the hotel.” Your mind races over the possibilities, “Are they okay? Did something happen?”

“Yeah, my dad ran into a client. That’s what happened.” Steve's voice hardens, taking on a bitter edge as he echoes his father's words, “Business is business, Steve. You understand, don’t you, son?” 

“I’m sorry, Steve,” you say in a near whisper, covering his hand with yours.

“It’s my fault. I didn’t really want them here, you know? But when I dropped by the hotel this afternoon with the tickets, my dad actually seemed proud of me for once. Fuck. I feel so dumb for getting excited.” He pulls his hand from yours to tug at the messy strands falling over his brow before his eyes find yours again.  “Did I ever tell you about my baseball coach in middle school?”

“No,” you shake your head, shifting on the bed to move even closer beside him, offering what comfort you can.

“Coach Patterson.” His eyes fall to his lap. “He tried talking to him once when he dropped me off for a game. He told him that it would mean a lot if he’d stayed and watched me play. But Dad…” Steve's voice falters, “He just looks at me and says, ‘I've got better things to do than watch you lose.’”

“Steve-”

His eyes bore into yours, filling your chest with an ache. “The thing is, we did win, but he still never stayed.  He didn’t believe in me. I guess he still doesn’t.”

His phone screen brightens with an incoming call, and he picks it up, silencing it with a push of a button. “I've poured everything I have into this, trying to be perfect, what they—what everyone—expects me to be.” The frustration builds in his voice,“But no matter how hard I try, it'll never be enough. Not for them. And maybe... not for you either.”

You cradle his larger hand between yours, wishing he could see himself through your eyes. “You’ve always been enough.”

“I want to give you everything–”

“Steve, stop. You can’t live for other people. Pursue this because it brings you fulfillment, not for anyone else. Think about everything your dad has given your mom. Do you think it’s made them happy?”

He pulls his hand from yours, a fleeting shadow crossing his features as his gaze drifts to some distant point in the room. “I’d never treat you the way he treats her.” 

“That’s right.” Gently, you cup his face, your thumbs brushing lightly against his jaw, coaxing his gaze back to you. “You’re better than him. And if he can’t see that or celebrate your wins, that’s his shortcoming. Tonight is going to go off without a hitch, and Richard is going to thank his lucky stars for having the good sense to have assigned you City Beats.”

Leaning in, you press a soft, deliberate kiss to his lips. “You deserve your success.” His hand rises to cover yours, and your face softens into a smile. “Now, can we go? I need you to dance with me during the slow songs. I’ll even let you pretend we’re at prom.” 

The corners of his mouth rise, his chuckle warming the space between you as he leans in, your foreheads touching gently. “What would I do without you, Ace?” The words are gentle as his lips seek out yours. A car horn blares from the street below, breaking the moment. “I think our driver is getting antsy.”

“Well then, handsome,” you say, a gentle determination in your voice as you smooth out an imaginary crease on his jacket. “Let’s go to a party.” 

Dozens of spotlights pierce the night, illuminating the iconic Adler Planetarium. Limos and sleek cars roll up, dropping off the who’s who of the city—celebrities, influential politicians, and tech moguls—onto the red carpet-lined stairs. Banners emblazoned with the City Beats logo wave from the art deco building's great dome, set against the dark waters of the lake and the distant city lights. 

“Wow,” you breathe as Steve takes your hand and helps you out of the car. The magnitude of the moment takes over. Now it’s your turn to be impressed. “Baby, you did all this!” 

Steve’s signature smirk takes over his face, his cheeks tinting with a flush from your compliment. A camera flash pops in your face as you step out onto the red carpet. With a deep breath, you tighten your hold on his hand. The PR team's efforts have paid off. Photogs from all over the city and national publications line the step and repeat. The air is a blend of lake chill and expensive perfumes as you await your turn to be photographed. Steve’s reassuring hand, firm along your ribs, holds you steady as the flashes blind you. His gaze drops to yours, brimming with unmistakable pride, lending you his confidence. A quick squeeze of his hand coaxes a genuine smile as you face the cameras together.

“Not used to being on this side,” you murmur, keeping your teeth on display under the relentless flashes.

He chuckles, drawing you forward. “You're a natural,” he whispers, guiding you to the entrance with a hand at your back.

As you step into the grand foyer, your name being called pierces the hum of conversations. Rihanna waves from across the room, her manicured hand catching the light. She mouths ‘Call me’ before being swept away by her very tall date.

"Was that–" Steve asks, eyes widening. 

"I interviewed her last year," you explain, returning her smile with your own as she navigates the crowd. 

"Must have made an impression. That was the new point guard for the Chicago Bulls." His eyebrows raise as he watches them disappear into the throng of guests. Leaning in, his breath tickles your ear, “I don’t think we’re in Hawkins anymore, Dorothy.”

Light laughter bubbles from your throat. “Thanks, Toto,” you quip, threading your arm into the crook of his elbow, letting him lead you along.

Abstract designs mimicking sound waves, musical notes set into star patterns, and cosmic shapes elegantly adorn the solarium. The floor-to-ceiling windows extend the celestial theme, allowing for sweeping views of the night sky. 

“From Skyline to Bassline: This is City Beats Streaming Radio.” 

The DJ's smooth voice transitions the songs playing through the speakers as they live-stream from a platform beside a wall of digital screens alive with a social media feed and a map showing millions of listeners around the world tuning in. 

Steve lets go of your hand as he’s swarmed with department heads buzzing with reports and updates. You stand alone, crossing one hand over another as muted conversation hums under the beat of the music. The waitstaff weaves through the crowd, offering trays of fluted glasses brimming with bubbling champagne, and you gratefully accept a glass. Guests interact with kiosks exploring the different channels offered by City Beats, including specific music genres, news, and talk shows, while others move onto the themed lounges or drift out to the terrace for the small bites and views of the city.

“Harrington.” Richard's booming voice sends Steve’s staff scattering into the crowd. “Everything is looking just splendid, son.” He greets Steve with a firm handshake before his voice drops,“Now, how are those numbers?”

You look away, rolling your eyes out of view as you drain the rest of your glass. He can’t give Steve five minutes of peace. 

“According to sales, we are easily beating the first round of projections and are slated to hit our monthly target in the next hour.” Steve’s voice is filled with cool confidence, but his palm is damp when his fingers slip between yours. 

“That’s good to hear,” Richard says, the tightness in his expression easing as the redness circling his face begins to fade. He leans closer to Steve, his tone firm, “I don't think I need to remind you that Second City has a lot riding on this, which means you've got a lot riding on this.”

Steve's lips press together in a firm line as he stands a little taller and smooths a hand over his tie. Your teeth clamp down on the inside of your lip, forcing your silence. 

A waiter glides to your side, stopping to collect your empty glass. You place your flute on his tray a touch too forcefully. The clink with the other glasses is louder than intended, breaking the moment. Richard straightens, his attention drawn to you for the first time. He steps back, the wheels turning behind his eyes as he tries to place you.

His manufactured grin returns as he claps Steve on the shoulder. “Keep up the excellent work, my boy. This is impressive.” He waves a hand, gesturing around the party, “I don’t know what any of it is, but it’s impressive,” he laughs, expecting you to join him. When you only muster a weak smile, his laughter fades, replaced by a brief, awkward silence.

“I’m glad you brought the little lady with you tonight, Steve. She just gets prettier and prettier,” Richard continues, not missing a beat. “My wife’s around here somewhere, probably telling someone how to do their job,” he chuckles, then signals a waitress for more drinks. “Make sure you say hello. She loves gossiping with the other wives.” Handing you both a fresh glass, he adds, “Now, see to it our boy here doesn't work too hard, okay?” With a final pat on Steve’s shoulder and a wag of his finger in your direction, Richard moves off into the crowd.

Steve exhales quietly, the tension leaving his shoulders, as he gently squeezes your hand.

“I don’t know how you stand him,” you fume, “How many years have I worked here, and the bastard doesn't even recognize me.”

“Trust me, you’re better off not being on his radar,” Steve replies, downing his champagne in one go before passing the empty glass off to a passing waiter. “I’m sure he’s going to be on my ass when I meet with the investors.”

“But it’s such a nice ass,” you grin over the rim of your glass, letting the bubbles tickle your lips.

His eyes gleam as he leans in a little closer, but his response dissolves before it's spoken. Warmth heats the bare skin of your back as someone steps close behind you. Your stomach plummets like a rollercoaster, and goosebumps dot your arms—there's no need to look.

“Eddie,” Steve welcomes him with a handshake that shifts to an embrace. “You made it.”

Since the kiss, Eddie has honored your request, maintaining the distance you needed— a display of restraint that the high school version of him might not have managed.  But after your talk with Hopper and the shadow of the looming deadline creeping closer, it was only a matter of time before you had to face him. And the clock has just run out. 

“How could I pass this up?” Eddie’s gaze darts around the solarium before landing on you. “Doll.” He leans in, placing a light kiss on your cheek before turning back to Steve. “This is some party. Congratulations, man.” 

"Thanks for passing the word down your contact list,” Steve says, his tone sincere. “My head of PR mentioned you've made her job a hell of a lot easier." 

“Happy to help,” he shrugs, adjusting the gold cufflinks at his wrists. He’s ignored the last few buttons of his pressed black shirt and worn it open-collar, allowing a glimpse of the fine black-inked lines that grace the skin of his chest. 

“Do you own a suit that isn’t black?” You ask, eyeing the slim-fit pinstripe, that's obviously been tailored to fit him like a glove. “Or is that a rental?”

“Ace,” Steve chides.

Eddie laughs, the sound rich and easy. “Gotta match with the sweet old tats, don’t I?” The edge that once sharpened your words now fails to cut. His smile blooms into dimples, and it’s contagious. Despite the crackling of nerves and self-made promises, he disarms you. A line creases Steve’s brow as the moment hangs, and your smirk echoes Eddie’s.

A peel of laughter rises above the blend of music and conversation as the party continues. A harried junior staffer pushes through the crowd, bumping shoulders and muttering apologies as she tries to keep a stray lock of hair from escaping her updo. “Steve, I’m so sorry to interrupt,” she keeps her voice low despite her breathlessness. “Ted's already on his fifth bourbon, and he's cornered Harris Blake from Bean City Brews. He's telling that joke about the nun and the circus tent, and I think we are about to lose half of our ad revenue for this quarter."

"Shit," Steve mutters, his fingers raking through his hair. "Okay, let's deal with this." Relief washes over the staffer's face as she quickly turns, leading the way.

Steve pauses, his eyes meeting yours, an apology written on his face. "I’m-”

"It's okay. Go," you reassure with a squeeze of his bicep. His lips lift at the corners before he turns away, disappearing into the crowd as your gaze lingers after him.

The weight of Eddie’s eyes settles on you before you’ve even turned to meet them. “So, is this the part where I chase you around all night until you finally agree to talk to me?” he asks, closing the distance with a step forward.

“Actually, I thought we’d skip that part.” Your eyes dip to your shoes, avoiding his stare. “I want to apologize for what happened. I let my emotions get the better of me. It was unprofessional.” 

“Unprofessional?” Surprise lifts brows before his lips press together in a hard line. “Come with me.” His hand closes over yours, pulling you through the solarium without looking back before you can object. 

“Eddie-” you start, but he’s already ushering you into the double doors of the sky theater.

He doesn’t stop as he leads you into the darkness, the room illuminated only by the soft rows of small floor lights as the soaring domed ceiling swirls with violet and periwinkle projections of the starry sky. Ignoring the few others milling around, he tugs you into the privacy of the shadows, finally releasing your hand. In the orchid-tinged light, his stare holds a depth that's hard to look away from. “This isn’t business, doll. You mean every–” he swallows, “you’re my closest friend.”

“You don’t even know me anymore, Eddie.” Your head shakes, silently begging him to understand.

His hands move to grip your shoulders. “There are some things that time can’t change.”

“It can’t happen again,” you state in a firm voice, taking a step back and widening the gap between you. 

He shoves his hands into his pockets, waiting as a couple meanders past, pointing out Cassiopeia. “Then what do you propose?”

“I’ll finish the articles.”

“And then?”

“And then everything goes back to the way it was. I'm sure we'll cross paths from time to time.” The words emerge on a strained breath, tightness seizing your lungs. “It’s for the best.” 

“That’s not good enough,” he counters, the shake of his head cutting through the dim light. “I want you in my life.”

“I don’t know if I can do that.”

“You can.” He inches closer, blowing out a sigh. “Look, it was my fault. Be my friend. Draw that line, and we won’t cross it. I know you’re still pissed at me, but we can work through it.” His voice falters, the earlier resolve in his eyes melting into a plea. “Aren’t you tired of carrying all this around inside of you?”

His question softens the tension in your chest, suggesting a sliver of peace you hadn't known you were seeking. Maybe the scars etched on your heart for so long have also shielded it from joy. You swallow the lump in your throat, offering an almost imperceptible nod.

“Can you try for me?” he pleads. 

“I can’t make you any promises,” you nod again, more sure this time. “But I’ll try.” 

His thumb gently traces the side of your face before his arms circle you, pulling you close against him—the scent of vanilla and clove clings to his jacket. Under your cheek, the fabric is cool and smooth, tinged with a hint of tobacco, taking you someplace you thought was lost. 

“Don’t mark up my suit with that shit you wear all over your face,” he teases, his hold on you not lessening an inch. “It is a rental.”

There is a tentative hopefulness in your newly minted truce with Eddie. Almost as tangible as the pulse of the bass vibrating through the soles of your shoes. His smile, easy and unguarded, lights up his face as he guides you through the sea of finely dressed attendees with a hand resting on your lower back. Stopping to exchange hellos and handshakes with a group of industry professionals who are eager to discuss his Studio opening. He pushes the topic aside in favor of introducing you.  With an effortless charm, he leaves no room for doubt about your credentials as a journalist at Stax and suggests the value an interview with you would bring to their clients.

“What?” His eyebrows lift, amusement playing across his features as he catches the pleased look on your face as you tuck a handful of new business cards into your clutch.

“Are you auditioning to be my new publicist?” you tease, your brain already teeming with the new articles his introduction just made a possibility. 

The warmth of his laughter is becoming a welcome sound. “I’ll be anything you want, doll,” he offers, the words punctuated by a flirtatious flash of his dimples.

A snort accompanies the roll of your eyes, even as your stomach flutters. 

“I’m proud of you, you know? he adds, a soft earnestness in his tone. “I like showing you off.” The tenderness in his expression doesn't waver as he follows you through the solarium. You find your fiancée chatting with a familiar face. A welcome distraction from all things Eddie. 

“Dulcita,” Argyle wraps an arm around your shoulders. “Looking bitchin, as always. That dress is killer.”

Laughing, you nod toward his outfit, “Well, I’m just trying to keep up. You look amazing.” 

With an exaggerated flourish, he poses with his thumbs stretching the lapels of his periwinkle floral suit before turning to greet  Eddie with a handshake. 

Steve's hand finds its way to your hip, drawing you near. "I thought I’d lost you. Where'd you disappear to?"

“Just exploring a bit,” you offer, meeting his look with a smile, but his eyes shift past you toward Eddie.

A pretty blonde waitress weaves through the crowd, her tray of fresh drinks catching Eddie's attention. He flags her down with a tilt of his head and a confident wink. “Thanks, sweetheart,” he says, plucking a few glasses from her tray to pass around.

“This event is popping off,” Argyle chimes in, taking a glass and nodding toward Steve. “Congrats, dude. I couldn’t have planned this better myself.”

Eddie extends a glass in your direction. “Doll?” 

Steve’s shoulders tense as his stare fills the space between you and Eddie, the sides of his mouth dipping. “Have you eaten?” he asks, his hand tightening slightly on your waist.

For a heartbeat, you just look at him, letting the wave of irritation roll past. Your teeth sink into your lip as you decline Eddie’s offer with a shake of your head. 

Eddie's face tightens, a flash of restrained agitation crossing his features as he retracts the glass and dismisses the waitress with a polite nod. Argyle, shifts uncomfortably, his lips pursed into an O as his gaze skitters across the room. 

Turning fully towards Steve with a soft expression, you aim for lightness. “Argyle’s right, you know. It all looks perfect, Steve,” you say, channeling warmth into your words, “Everyone’s having a great time. All your hard work is really paying off.”

Half of his mouth lifts as his gaze wanders over the crowd. “Guess we’ll see on Monday when the final numbers come in. Richard is already pushing to take City Beats national.”

Your face falls, “But that’s...that’s a massive undertaking. You’d have to restructure everything, wouldn’t you?”

Steve nods, his expression turning heavy. “Yeah, it would mean a major overhaul, not just in marketing but across multiple departments. We'd likely need to set up satellite offices in other cities, which means a lot of travel for me. It’s ultimately up to the investors, though.”

“Not too shabby, Harrington,” Argyle says, clapping Steve on the shoulder. “You’re going to be running with the big dogs now.”

The conversation becomes muted as worry knots your stomach. Steve doesn’t seem to realize that his decisions impact more than just his own future. The coming months loom large with late nights and lost weekends. The toll won’t be just the dark circles under his hazel eyes but the shared moments slipping away like water through your fingers. His relentless drive for success and approval is edging him closer to repeating his father's mistakes—becoming distant, hollow, bitter. Pouring himself into work to the point of exhaustion, neglecting those he loves, just as he was once neglected. You can't just watch as he loses himself, not when you see the signs, feel the strain.

“Come on, Ace, smile for me. This is a good thing.” Steve says with a soft tone as his lips find your temple.

“I know that, and I’m so proud of you,” you manage, lifting your cheeks in the look of adorement he hopes to see. “You work so hard. I just worry.”

His hand shifts to cradle your jaw, tipping your chin to meet his gaze. “It will be fine, I promise. I’ll take some time before things really ramp up,” he reassures, the corners of his hopeful eyes crinkling. “Maybe for a honeymoon?”

“Sounds like someone is trying to think of excuses to get out of the actual work,” Nancy’s voice slices through the moment, her arrival almost as commanding as the deep plum of her silk dress that clings and flows in all the right places, complementing her sleek dark hair.

“A national campaign?” Jonathan steps beside Nancy, his narrow tie and vintage-cut suit making him look straight from the 1950s. “You might as well give back the ring now. Sounds like he’s already married to his work,” he leans toward you, cupping his mouth like a secret, earning him a chuckle from the rest of the group. 

Ignoring him, Steve directs his attention to Nancy with a self-assured smirk. “Thanks for showing up, Nance. Wouldn’t want you to miss the moment Second City leaves Spectrum behind for the history books."

Her eyes narrow as her arms cross over her slender body, “That’s adorable, Steve, really. But the idea that your little radio project outshines a whole TV network? Please..”

Steve lets out a snort as his hands move to his hips. “Last I checked, Spectrum's sprawling empire was one channel.” 

“We're thinking of expanding,” her voice is as smooth as silk as she examines her nails. 

“With the tech we’re developing for on-demand music, who’s going to need cable?”

“If you can manage–”

“If I may suggest putting away the rulers,” Argyle’s voice rises above their bickering, “It’s Steve’s party, and I think we’ve had enough dick measuring for the evening.”

“Fine,” Nancy agrees as she holds Steve's stare, matching his smug expression, “I’ll concede. Congratulations on your accomplishments, Steve.”

“Appreciated,” Steve says, with a tip of his chin. 

“But let's be clear,” Nancy adds, unable to help herself, “my dick is still bigger.”

Argyle groans as Jonathan's eyes roll skyward. Eddie takes a gulp of champagne, trying to stem his laughter.

“Where’s Robin?” you ask, cutting off whatever retort Steve was planning before it has a chance to leave his mouth, “Didn’t she ride with you guys?”

“She took off at the coat check with Jessie J—something about a twerking tutorial,” Jonathan explains, looking confused as he tucks his hands in his pockets. 

Nancy's laugh tinkles with mischief. “Trust me, it's a sight. Robin insists she's better.”

“Well, I’m not missing that,” Eddie says, polishing off his drink, “I’ll catch you all later.” He turns and leaves your group, placing his empty glass on a waiter's tray as he walks past. 

As he melts into the crowd, Nancy's gaze shifts to Richard making his way toward your circle. Her smile tightens ever so slightly, “Oh god. Is that Richard Kingsley?” she asks Steve. “I thought he’d have retired by now, off riding a golf cart in Florida.” 

“No such luck.” Steve mutters under his breath, “Play nice, please.”

“I’m always nice,” she whispers before she plasters on her grin, “Richard.”

Richard approaches with a practiced smile, extending his hand to Nancy. “Nancy Wheeler, Spectrum’s shining star in the digital domain, or so I’ve been told. They’ve certainly sent us their best tonight. How’s the world of content directing? ”

“Actually, Richard,”  Steve quickly corrects, his voice firm yet courteous as he positions himself alongside Nancy, “Vice President of Content Strategy. Nancy’s been leading the charge there for over a year now.” 

Richard's smile doesn't falter as he turns to Nancy. "My apologies, Nancy. I’m sure it's a well-deserved promotion.” She offers him a polite smile that doesn’t quite meet her eyes as he continues, “Your insights at the conference in New York were…enlightening. It's always good to have industry leaders like yourself in attendance.”

As if on cue, a junior staff photographer weaves through the crowd. Richard snaps his finger at him, seizing the opportunity, "Let's capture this moment, shall we? A picture for the company archives.”

“Better him than me,” Jonathan mutters as the staffer directs the group a few feet away, ensuring the City Beats Logo will frame the background of the photo. Richard positions himself at the center, patting at the shine of his red face with a handkerchief before draping an arm over each of their shoulders.

“That’s depressing,” Jonathan snorts, watching the setup. “Well, I'm off to find a drink that matches my cynicism,” he adds, taking the opportunity to slip away, leaving you alone with Argyle.

“So,” The sweetness of pineapple and weed hit your nose as Argyle leans over your shoulder, his breath warm against your ear, “It looks like you and Eddie sorted out your shit, huh?”

“We’re tolerating each other,” you tell him without turning your head. 

“I don’t know, man,” he muses, his eyes narrowing, “Tolerance was not the look on your face when you walked in here with him.”

A huff escapes your throat as you whip around to face him. “I’m interviewing him, remember?” you ask, trying to keep defensiveness out of your voice. “I'm just trying to be…pleasant.” 

“You can tell yourself whatever you need to,” he adds, concern written across his face. “But from where I’m standing, you look like you’re in way over your head.”

The words die in your throat as Eddie reappears, weaving through the crowd with the grace of someone used to navigating this kind of affair. In one hand, he balances a plate arranged with an assortment of canapes and sushi, each piece a miniature work of art. His deep brown eyes keenly focused on you. “Eat something, doll,” he suggests, handing the plate over to you.

That feeling wells up in your stomach as you purse your lips, trying not to let your mouth stretch too big in front of Argyle, although he probably has picked up on the heat rising to your face. “Thanks,” you say shyly, accepting the plate. 

“I’ll snag one,” Argyle reaches toward your plate with two fingers.

 Eddie brows lower. “You can get your own, they’re not charging.”

“Sheesh, I know, dude. They're from my restaurant,” Argyle informs him.

“Then you know exactly where to get more,” Eddie counters.

“Did you find Robin?” you ask, changing the subject. “Was she twerking?”

“Yeah, I caught the tail end of it. And I’ll never unsee it,” his genuine laughter fills the space. “I think it’s burned into my retinas.”

“Mrs. Harrington," comes the voice of a junior staffer materializing beside you with such abruptness that the plate nearly slips from your grasp. "They want you in the photo now.”

“Umm, sure,” you say, glancing to where Steve is standing with Nancy, laughing at something she said. Eddie takes the plate from you, his easy smile from earlier erased by the downturn of his lips. 

Smoothing down your skirt, you follow the photographer, consciously relaxing the clench of your jaw over how you were addressed. Steve’s eyes sparkle with warmth as he makes space for you between himself and Nancy, Richard positioned at the end. The clear happiness on his face eases your irritation. His hand finds a place on your ribs, pulling you into his side before the photographer directs you where to look. 

“Very nice,” Richard comments with a nod after the flash goes off. 

“One for your company Christmas card,” Nancy quips, throwing a look in Steve's direction.

Richard, not missing a beat, turns to you both. “Yes, well, it’s always a pleasure, Ms. Wheeler. I hope you enjoy the party,” he says before shifting to Steve. “Ready to give the investors a tour, my boy? They’ve had their share of drinks. Should be just about softened up for you now.”

“I’ll be right with you, Richard.” Steve waves him off, his eyes softening as he looks down at you, “You going to be okay on your own for a while, Ace?”

“Absolutely,” you tell him, rising to your toes to plant a kiss on his cheek. “You’re going to kill it, handsome.” 

The side of his mouth tips up as you use your thumb to wipe away the gloss you left behind. “How did I get so lucky?” he wonders aloud, his gaze locked on yours. Leaning in, he captures your lips with his in a kiss that lingers a beat too long for a public place. 

“I'll find you later.” Regret clouds his eyes as he pulls back, slipping on the professional mask he wears far too often. He walks away with Richard in tow.

“I better go find Jonathan,” Nancy tells Argyle and Eddie as you rejoin your friends, “or he’ll end up in a corner talking politics all night, and I made him promise me that he’d dance with me for at least one song.” 

“You can sign me up for one too, Wheeler,” Eddie says, popping a piece of sushi in his mouth. “No arm twisting required.”

“I’m going to hold you to that, Munson,” she promises, pointing a playful finger at him before turning to leave, her dress swirling behind her.

“You, Eddie Muson, volunteering to dance,” you tease, your expression mockingly shocked. “Now I’ve seen everything.”

“Play your cards right, doll, and I’ll show you up close and personal,” Eddie says, his eyebrows dancing as he offers you a canapé.

“That’s alright, Eddie. I’ve got my regular dance partner right here, right Argyle?” you say, looping your arm through his.

“Yeah... yup,” Argyle murmurs, his attention momentarily snagged by a tall brunette striding past. She sweeps a waterfall of silky hair over her shoulder, pretending not to notice him, but the extra sway added to her hips says otherwise. 

“Solo dame una noche con ese culo y te haré mami, querida,” Argyle calls after her, untangling himself from your arm.  

“Traitor,” you accuse, watching him go with a shake of your head as he follows after her without a backward glance.

“Ve por ella, amigo,” Eddie encourages with a booming laugh.

Turning back to you, he rocks on his heels, a smirk playing on his lips. “Looks like it’s just you and me, doll.”

“Yeah, well, you don’t have to look so happy about it,” you chide when his dimples make an appearance, sending the rusted chains around your heart rattling when it jumps under your ribs. Maybe Argyle wasn’t too far off the mark.

A brisk wind cuts across the dark surface of Lake Michigan. The City Beats logo burns bright in yellow neon, its light spilling over the outdoor stage and dancing across the water’s surface in a rotation of colors. Despite the press of bodies, warmth is scarce, with the night air nipping at any exposed skin. Before you can even think of shivering, Eddie drapes his suit jacket over your shoulders, the fabric holding the residual warmth of his body. He stands close beside you, seemingly unfazed by the cool temperature, as Maroon 5 concludes their set.

The crowd sways as one, heads bobbing in sync with the rhythm pulsing into the chilly evening. The spice of Eddie's cologne is a veil around you, drawing you closer into his orbit. Glancing his way, you expect his attention to be on the show, eyes tracking each note and chord. Instead, you find the intensity of his gaze fixed on you.

As the song ends with the band offering their thanks, the MC dashes on stage to announce the next performer. With a tip of his chin, Eddie motions for you to follow him. Together, you squeeze through the crowd, walking along the path at the lake's edge until the sea of people begins to thin, their noise fading into a distant murmur until it's just the two of you left, accompanied by the quiet hush of waves lapping against the bank. 

He stops, gazing out over the water, city lights dancing in his eyes. “I almost forgot how your face changes when you listen to music. It’s like the lyrics break right through, lighting you up from the inside.”

“My one true love,” you respond with a wistful sigh, giving him a shrug. 

“Oh yeah?” He turns toward you, inching a bit closer to reach into the breast pocket of the suit jacket enveloping your shoulders. He pulls out a tightly rolled joint, eyeing you with a raised brow. “What’s with all the ‘Mrs. Harrington’ business?” he asks, placing the joint between his lips and fishing a brass Zippo from his pants pocket. “Did you get married and forget to invite me?”

Your eyes flash skyward as he lights it with a practiced flick and takes a deep drag. “I don’t know...Steve encourages it. I think it’s his way of reminding me he’s waiting for me to set a date.”

He passes you the joint and blows out a lung full of white smoke that swirls into the night air.  “You have left the poor sap waiting for a while.”

“I don’t want to talk about my relationship with you, Eddie,” you say, flicking the ash off the burning paper's end before pressing it to your lips and inhaling. 

“Why not?” His gaze probes, seeking an opening, a slip, anything. “Friends talk about their relationships, don’t they?”

You can’t help but cough, the potency of the smoke catching you off guard. “You know exactly why not,” you retort, passing the joint back to him. A soft fog settles over your thoughts, smoothing out the evening’s sharpness. “And you? Volunteering to help with the guest list...” You eye him skeptically, “Trying to ease your conscience?”

He chuckles, shaking his head as he takes another hit, “It was only a couple of texts, doll,” he says, passing the joint back to you, his fingers brushing yours. “Trust me, I sleep just fine at night. What’s between you and me started long before Steve entered the picture.”

 "Well, he’s here now," you assert with defiance, your gaze locked with Eddie's as the joint burns down in your fingers. 

His fingers wrap around your wrist, guiding your left hand into the streetlamp's glow until the diamond on your finger flashes. "I guess he is. But doll," he steps closer, his eyes holding yours, "so am I."

“Yeah? Let’s wait and see if you stick around this time.” Your skepticism is clear as you bring the joint back to your lips, watching his face fall with your pointed words.

“So this is where the cool kids hang out,” Hopper’s gruff voice cuts into the night, anchoring you back to reality. Eddie takes a step away from you, his hands tugging on the ends of his curls. Hopper’s eyes narrow on the joint between your fingers. “Really think it’s wise to smoke grass at a work function?” 

“I promise not to operate any heavy machinery,” you respond in a dry tone, blowing out a cloud of smoke.

The older man’s eyes shoot skyward before he holds out an expectant hand, “Give it here.”  

You hand it over, and the burning paper crackles as he takes a practiced drag, “Are you going to introduce me?”

“Sorry. Yeah,” you rub your forehead, “James Hopper, this is my…um, friend, Eddie Munson.” Eddie leans forward, reaching out to shake hands as you quickly explain, “Hopper’s my editor.” The steadiness in your voice doesn’t quite bridge the awkward moment. 

Eddie’s brows raise as Hopper’s hand closes over his in a crushing grip. “Hell of a grip,” Eddie comments with a question written across his face. 

“A handshake is a good measure of man,” Hopper offers him no other explanation, handing him back the smoking joint before turning to you. “I expect a write-up of the launch on my desk by 10:30 tomorrow for the digital edition. And don’t skimp on the details about the radio service. Downtown is keen on pushing this, so I hope you paid attention.”

“No problem, Hop. I’m on it,” you assure him.

“Now, I’m going home to Joyce. If she gets a whiff of this on me, I’m sending her your way.”

“You’ll be in the clear,” you promise with a soft grin. 

Hopper's stern demeanor gives way to something gentler. “Alright,” he says with a nod, “Enjoy your evening, kid.” His eyes dart to Eddie. “But not too much.”

“Jesus, that’s your editor?” Eddie asks once Hopper is out of sight. “The guy missed his calling, he would’ve made a great cop.”

Your laughter accompanies the dismissive shake of your head. “We better go back inside.”

The walk back is steeped in quiet, the night’s emotions a heavy weight that weaves threads of weariness and a dull ache through your limbs. Eddie appears less burdened, wearing an expression of contentment, his hand slipping beneath the fabric of his jacket still resting over your shoulders. The warmth of his palm seeps into the bare skin of your back while his thumb traces soothing circles along your spine. Carried in on a breeze, the earthy spice of late-blooming asters mingle with the vibrant colors of marigolds softened under the glowing canopy of string lights.

As you near the terrace, the murmur of voices grows, and the sparse groups of people along the pathway thicken to a full gathering. The shift from the lake’s tranquility to the party's bright lights and crescendo of conversations is jarring.  The solarium overflows with party-goers, their inhibitions loosened by drinks as they flood the dance floor, the music swelling louder and more insistent than before.  Despite the sea of people, it takes only moments for Steve’s gaze to lock onto yours across the room as you reenter with Eddie by your side. 

Without hesitation, he leaves the conversation he'd been having and moves toward you. The corners of your mouth lift in a greeting that isn’t returned. His forehead creases with a question. The air seems thicker as you slide the jacket off, returning it to Eddie, the tightness in your chest reappearing. Steve's jaw clenches as he reaches you, his arm circling your waist. “I’ll take my fiance back now, Munson.”

Eddie’s smirk sharpens as he hooks his jacket over one shoulder, “Just keeping an eye on her for you, buddy. Couldn’t leave the lady alone with all these musicians wandering around.” He leans closer, his free hand circling his mouth, “They tend to  get a little handsy.”

"Thanks, pal," Steve replies, the last word stretched tight as he stands taller. “I’ll take it from here.”

Eddie’s gaze drops to his feet momentarily before his head lifts. Amusement widens his grin, reflecting a confidence that borders on smug. His feet shuffle as he adjusts his posture to match Steve’s. A twist of nerves tightens your stomach as a spark that you know all too well brightens Eddie’s eyes like an echo of the cocky teenager he once was. 

“How about that dance you promised me, handsome?” you blurt, cutting Eddie off just as his mouth opens to respond. Stepping between them, you intertwine your fingers with Steve's and tug him toward the dance floor. As if on cue, the music mellows to a slower tempo. 

Steve’s stare remains on Eddie as his arms circle your waist. “You know, it’s funny, I never realized what a dick Eddie is.” 

Your head turns to see Eddie watching you with hands shoved in his pocket. “You barely spoke to him all night. What led you to that conclusion?”

Robin bops over to meet him, her blue eyes gleaming as she tugs at his arm, trying to coax him into a dance despite his shaking head. 

“I don’t know. The guy is just rubbing me the wrong way,” Steve doesn’t hide the irritation in his voice as he turns you so you’re facing away from them. 

A burst of protectiveness that has been dormant since high school wells up like a hot spring. The words escape before your better judgment can catch them. “Really. Are you sure it’s not because he’s my friend?” 

The mossy green rings of his eyes burn into yours for only a moment before he blows out a soft breath. “Let’s not fight.” His big hand slides down to rest low on your back as he pulls you closer. “I’ve been waiting to get you alone all night,” he says into your ear before his mouth covers yours hotly, leaving you whirling with his quick change. “Where have you been all night, Ace?”

One side of his mouth lifts in a half-smile, but his confident mask slips. Behind his eyes, he’s lost—the familiarity tugs at you. Rising on your toes, you press your lips to his. “I’m right here.” 

His expression softens, radiating a comforting warmth as his lips brush your temple. The rhythm of the song wraps around you both like a truce. Burying your cheek into Steve’s shoulder, your gaze follows Eddie as he turns his back and heads for the door. 

Steve leans closer to the bathroom mirror, his fingertips shiny with the pomade he's using to piece out the strands of his chestnut hair. 

“Don’t forget your glasses,” you remind him, turning away from the open doorway and entering your bedroom.  

“Or the tickets,” you toss out, noticing the white envelope on his night table.

“What would I do without you, Ace?” His voice floats from the bathroom, light and teasing.

Settling at the end of your bed, you pick up the novel you started recently, the book's weight familiar in your lap. Seeing Steve so relaxed and happy broadens your smile. He deserves this night out to blow off a little steam. City Beats' launch exceeded every expectation. A success that's finally turned the heads of the old guard at Second City toward the efforts of their youngest executive. Of course, memories are short, and victories are fleeting.

Steve's workload hasn't lessened, and the prospect of taking the platform national is still on the horizon, but you've set aside any misgivings, at least for now. It’s been a week since you surprised him with the Bulls tickets during his birthday dinner at Maple and Ash, Steve’s favorite, surrounded by your closest friends–with one empty chair at the table when Eddie hadn’t shown. 

“Sure you don’t want to come? I still have an extra ticket,” He asks, emerging through the pocket doors separating your bedroom from the closet. Securing his Jaeger-Lecoultre watch to his wrist, the scent of Dior Homme follows him.

You glance down at your cozy leggings and cream wrap sweater. “I’ve got big plans tonight, handsome.” You hold up the book against your chest. “Didn’t anyone from your pick-up game want the ticket? Or those guys you play racquetball with?”

“I didn't get a chance to ask until the last minute,” he explains. “Robin called my office about fifty times to harass me about inviting Eddie to the game. It took me all week to get the guy on the phone, and  then he turned me down flat.” He shakes his head, walking over to his nightstand to retrieve the tickets. 

“I don't think Eddie is much of a sports guy,” you muse, glancing down at your fingers, folding and unfolding a dog-eared page. “He used to say he didn't have time for throwing balls into laundry baskets. He’d go on and on about the unfairness of high school politics.” A quiet laugh escapes your mouth along with the memory. “He could be so dramatic back then.”

When you lift your eyes, Steve's standing frozen in place, the deep line between his brows wiping away his easy demeanor. He's looking at you like he's just found an uninvited stranger in his bed. It’s just a flash before he recovers, his features returning to the affectionate expression he usually carries for you, but it was enough. The parts of yourself you keep hidden loom like an iceberg–he’s just spotted the tip. You draw your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“Yeah?” He pauses, the air between you thickening as a hint of challenge colors his voice. “That’s a little weird considering he got us seats at a Lakers game last time I was in LA.”

The silence stretches just a moment longer. “Guess he’s not the same guy you knew back in Hawkins. But then again, none of us are, right?” He lets the question hover, knowing an answer isn’t coming.  “People change,” he shrugs, his gaze intense and probing. “Or maybe we just never really knew them at all.”

He steps closer and leans in, his lips brushing the corner of your mouth in a kiss that punctuates the conversation. His tone, sharp and heavy like a dull knife, cuts deep as he turns to leave. “Enjoy your book.” 

“Wait.” You slip off the bed, bridging the gap between you. Your fingers tangle in the material of his shirt, drawing him closer until your lips meet his, adding pressure until his arms circle your waist and he kisses you back. His embrace grows warmer as your tongue slides into his mouth, grazing his before pulling back, making him chase you, and he does. You break away but keep him close, his forehead pressed against yours, his breath a warm whisper as his nose runs along your cheek. “Have fun, okay?” you murmur against his lips as his hands slide up and down your back. “Knock back a few. Yell at the Ref. Get Jonathan drunk enough to annoy Nancy.” 

He chuckles, a smile lifting his cheeks. “You got it, Ace.” His eyes close as his lips find yours again. “I love you.” 

"I love you too, Steve," you whisper, your fingers uncurling from his shirt as you let him go. He takes your hand as you follow him downstairs. He opens the front door to a car waiting at the curb, the driver hoping out to open the backdoor. 

“I’ll see you in a few hours.” He smiles, picking up his keys from the small table.

The cold air rushes in from outside, and you pull your sweater tighter around your neck. Watching him step through the door, you call out, “Happy Birthday, handsome.”

As you close the door, Steve pauses on the landing with a thoughtful look crossing his face. “You know, now that I think about it, Eddie didn’t stop yapping that entire game. Maybe you’re right after all. The guy just doesn’t like sports.”

You give a noncommittal shrug, your fingers tightening around the edge of the door. "What did you talk about?"

“Can’t remember,” he shakes his head, resuming his descent down the steps. You watch for a moment longer before closing the door and latching the deadbolt.

With a sigh, you turn back to the now quiet house. The soft pad of your fluffy socks muffles your footsteps as you drift through the rooms, dimming the overhead lights to let the warmer glow of lamps bathe the space in a comforting light. You head to the kitchen, grabbing the remote from the counter. At the press of a button, the scratch of a guitar and a gravelly voice fill the silence, as comforting as an old friend.

You mouth the lyrics as you reach for a wine glass from the cupboard. With a practiced motion, you uncork a bottle of red, filling your glass halfway, only to keep going until it's right to the brim. The song shifts as you leave the kitchen, glass in hand, taking a sip, the rich flavors of dark fruit and spice mingling perfectly, soothingly. Sinking into the couch, you tip your head back against the cushion, letting the music and the stillness envelop you. Your eyes close, the lyrics weaving a soothing spell, chasing dark thoughts away. 

The peace is predictably short-lived. A buzz jolts you. The phone tucked into your leggings vibrates with an incoming call. You try to ignore it, letting it ring to voicemail, but it buzzes again—this time a text. With a resigned huff, you pull it out and unlock the screen with a click.

Missed Call – Eddie

Eddie: Your neighbors don’t complain when you play music that loud?

You blink down at the screen and then lift your gaze to the room's dark corners.

Eddie: Don’t get freaked out. Just come to the door. 

Pushing off the couch, you pad through the house to the front door and open it to the chilly November night. A brisk gust of wind blows down your street, swirling dried red and orange leaves around Eddie's black leather boots, where he stands at the base of your steps, bathed in the soft glow of the sconces flanking your door.

His hands are shoved into the pockets of dark-fitted jeans, a cozy half-zip sweater in deep charcoal hugging his broad chest. He looks up at you from under his long lashes, head slightly cocked to the side. “I tried the bell.” His head turns to the street as a passing car splashes water up from the wet pavement. “What kind of sound system is that? I thought Chris was in there with you for a second.”

Wrapping your arms around your chest, your fingers gently rub the fabric of your sweater as you ignore the surrealness of Eddie casually referring to Chris Cornell by his first name. “What are you doing here? Steve's not home.”

“I know. I thought the guy would never leave. How long does it take him to do his hair, anyway?”

“It’s not funny, Eddie. You can’t come in.” You glance down the street to see your neighbor, leash in hand, appear in the circle of light cast by the streetlamp.

“I don’t want to come in, doll. We’re going out. And we're late, so if you could light a fire under it.” Eddie’s lips press into a hard line as your neighbor passes him on the sidewalk, giving him the once-over, the poodle pausing to sniff his legs.

“Evening, Mr. Davis," you acknowledge with a wave as the man continues down the street, shaking his head. You turn back to Eddie, frustration evident in your tone. "I can't go anywhere. I'm not even dressed.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow, assessing your attire. “Those look like clothes to me.” 

Your head tilts to the side, your expression unwavering. 

He glances at the sky and lets out a frustrated sigh before his gaze returns to you. “You look beautiful, doll. Now, please. Just grab your coat,” he implores, his hands pressing together in front of him. “ I promise to have you back before you turn into a pumpkin.” 

Your eyes lower to where your toes are wiggling in your socks, “Eddie, I–”

“Well, I could always just hang out here,” he muses, scratching at the scruff on his chin. “Might get awkward when the game lets out.”

“You're not serious,” you challenge, skepticism evident in your tone.

“Oh, aren't I?” he asks, cocking a brow as he crosses his arms over his chest. “Friends hang out together, don’t they?”

“Fine,” you fume. “But I better be back in plenty of time.” You catch the way his smile broadens as you turn back into the house to slip on a pair of boots and grab an old woolen peacoat off the hook by the door. Stepping out onto the stone landing of your brownstone, you hesitate, shooting him another look of apprehension before turning to lock the door.

“Christ, woman, was that so difficult?” He throws his hands in the air as he crosses the street to a shiny black Audi Q7 parked at the curb. With a wave of his hand, he opens the passenger door, beckoning you to climb inside. 

The bare branches of the trees sway with the wind, casting moving shadows against the shining asphalt painted with the last of the fallen leaves. You walk across the road to where he’s waiting and step into the SUV. You sink into the plush seat, the smell of leather, smoke, and his cologne assaulting your senses. It's the same scent that seemed to linger for days after your last visit to CursedSound, the one your guilt tried to erase.

Your hands worry themselves in your lap, twisting the diamond on your fourth finger while you wait for him to round the vehicle. The agreement about keeping the lines drawn is fresh in your mind as he climbs into the driver's seat. 

Without warning, he leans over you, the warmth of his body invading your space, the pout of his full bottom lip hovering inches from yours. The sharp intake of your breath echoes loudly in the vehicle's quiet confines.

“Seatbelt,” he reminds you, his big brown eyes dancing with amusement as he drags the strap across your shoulder and clicks it into position at your hip. 

Heat rises up your neck, burning your cheeks as he settles himself in his seat, strapping in before pressing the button that starts the ignition. 

“Shit.” His face falls as he glares at the glowing numbers on his dash.  He turns the wheel, lurching the Audi onto the roadway. Your neighborhood disappears in a blur as he turns and heads north. “And I thought LA traffic was bad,” he mutters, weaving in and out of stagnant lanes. 

The congestion loosens as he turns onto Lakeshore Drive, heading uptown. The moon hangs low, presiding over the rippling waters of Lake Michigan that stretch out into the night. A vast, dark canvas that reflects the tapestry of light from the towering buildings across the roadway rises to pierce the skyline. 

Music from Eddie’s phone plays at a low volume through the stereo. It serves to fill the quiet between you, but there’s something in the clash of the electric guitar and smooth bass that's an itch in your brain. Familiar like a half-remembered dream, but somehow still new. 

Your eyes steal glances to your left. His profile fades in and out of shadow with the passing headlights. The sharp line of his jaw tightens with a clench when he’s forced to slow his speed. The baby softness he used to carry in high school has given way to solid angles and the perpetual growth of stubble. There’s no denying it– he’s only gotten more attractive.

His head turns suddenly, catching your stare. Your throat clears as you reach for the knob, turning up the volume and letting the song replace anything about to be said. His hand moves from the gear shift to his thigh, his elegant fingers flexing against his jeans. Your eyes stay fixed on the taillights ahead as the song moves into its final refrain.

"Wait." You reach out to punch the back button,  restarting the song. "This is you."

His eyebrows lift in surprise, his mouth parting slightly. "How did you—"

"I’m right, aren’t I?" you interject, pointing at the dash, focusing on the distinct chord progression and the sound of fingers sliding over frets.

"Yeah, it's something I’ve been working on for a while,” he admits, looking at you with soft eyes. “Still trying to figure out a part that's missing." 

"I didn’t realize you still played," you comment, adjusting the volume again.

“I don’t know why you're surprised,” he says, reaching back to place his hand on your headrest as he smoothly backs the SUV into a space, turning the wheel to align with the curb. “I don't give up on the things I care about.” He shifts into park and turns off the ignition. “Come on.” His hand lands on your knee in a gentle squeeze. “We’re here.” 

Exiting the car, you step onto the empty side street. Ambient light filters down from the high windows of the brick buildings lining both sides of the street. A nondescript bus with blackened windows and a few other cars sit parked at the curb. This is exactly the kind of place you'd normally avoid after dark. Sighing, you round the car to where Eddie is waiting. His hand finds its way to the small of your back, guiding you across the street to a lone, unmarked steel door. With a closed fist, he raps out five quick knocks followed by two slower and turns to you with a grin. 

“What are we doing here?” you ask, shoving your hands into your coat pockets and looking up and down the street.

“I’m apologizing.” His words are cut off by the scraping sound of locks, followed by the door swinging open. Bright light spills out, casting a silhouette of a very large, bald man holding a clipboard, nearly obscuring the doorway.

“Can I help you?” booms the man’s voice, reverberating off the surrounding brick.

“I’m on the list,” Eddie says, undeterred.

“Name?” the doorman asks, retrieving a pen from behind his ear.

“Munson,” Eddie responds, glancing at the clipboard. “Edward and guest.”

The man sizes up Eddie with a thorough once-over, his gaze flickers towards you briefly before allowing you both to enter. 

Following Eddie, you step inside, the brightness of the overhead fluorescents bouncing off the cinder block walls, causing you to squint after the dimly lit street outside. Flight cases and amp stacks clutter the small vestibule of the venue's loading area. The muffled thrum of a bass line vibrates through the walls and high ceilings. 

“You’re cutting it close,” the man grunts, his staff shirt stamped with the Riviera Theater’s logo pulling tight across his chest as he hands Eddie two lanyards with plastic tags. 

The sweet sound of a cascade of delicate strings drifts through the air from down the hall opposite you, drawing your attention like a moth to a porch light. 

“Is that violins?” Turning toward the sound, tiny sparks ignite in your chest as Eddie slips the lanyard over your head.

“You know the way?” The doorman snaps his clipboard, ignoring your question.

“We’ll find it,” Eddie assures him, his fingers closing around your elbow as he tugs you toward the hallway.

The smile stretching your lips is automatic. Tingles of energy zip through your veins as anticipation builds, like being a kid at Christmas. As the stark fluorescents give way to dimmer bulbs, a murkier haze settles around you, mirroring the anticipation building in your chest. Their soft glow catches the shine of the dark curls resting on Eddie's collar as you trail after him down the maze of narrowing corridors.

Passing by closed doors and bulletin boards tacked with production notes and schedules, you step lightly to avoid the cords snaking across your path. The worn wooden floorboards creak with each step like they are responding to the growing clarity of the strings that now reach your ears, no longer muffled but rich and full.

The baseline of Dreams smooths into its final notes, and applause thunders from the audience. Eddie pauses, his hand resting lightly on your back, guiding you to a halt. You step between him and the canopy of curtains gathered at the stage’s edge, the sounds of the crowd's approval dissipating into the cavernous space. The polished instruments rest in the orchestra’s hands, poised for their next cue. Your hand flies to your mouth as the sight of The Cranberries at center stage fully registers. Dolores O’Riordan’s head turns, catching Eddie’s gaze. With an exasperated look, she taps the watch strapped to her wrist. He mouths a “Sorry,” his head tilting slightly towards you. At that moment, her brown eyes connect with yours. A hint of a smile graces her face before she turns back to the audience, her voice resonating in the stillness, "I was saving this one."

The first sigh of the violin expands with your breath, an arrow soaring through the air, piercing the center of your chest. A thrum of a calloused thumb brushing over the strings of an acoustic guitar accompanies the “Ahhs” of her lilting voice. The harmony is echoed by a cello, then a viola, and another violin, each repetition weaving into the next like a ripple of raindrops on calm water until it all fades into a hush, leaving your stomach swooping in its wake.

The silence shatters with the bold strum of the guitar. The air leaves your lungs in unison with the crashing bassline, the full swell of the strings washing over you like an ocean wave.

If you, if you could return

Don't let it burn

Don't let it fade

In the auditorium's darkness, the audience vanishes until only you and he exist. Eddie stands close, his warmth seeping into you as he presses into you with his shoulder. Clove and tobacco mix with the tang of iron and polished wood. The back of his hand grazes the soft skin of your own, but it’s the stage that holds your attention, pulling you in deeper. 

Is that the way we stand?

Were you lying all the time?

Was it just a game to you?

The accompanying musicians close their eyes, becoming extensions of their instruments. Dolores tilts her head, her voice clear and strong, pouring from her slight frame. The music rises through the aged floorboards, tremors of notes climbing your legs and bursting within your chest. Stirring emotions so immense it threatens to spill over as tears sting behind your eyes. 

Oh, I thought the world of you

I thought nothing could go wrong

Your head turns and you find Eddie has been watching you the entire time. His throat bobs as he swallows, the bright lights reflecting the shine in his eyes, and now it's you who can't look away. The soft expression he wears is tender and novel. The black lines that have always connected you pull taut, tugging at your heart. Lines that you thought were severed by anger and loneliness. 

But I was wrong, I was wrong

But somehow, they’ve remained. Tattered and a little frayed but enduring all the same. At his core, he is who he’s always been, and so are you.

Things wouldn't be so confused

And I wouldn't feel so used

But you always really knew

I just want to be with you

Two souls found each other in the darkness, singing the same song. He brought you here for a reason—he's telling you he's sorry without words, reaching for you through the melody in a way you can't ignore—in a way that matters.

And I'm in so deep

You know I'm such a fool for you

Everything falls away, but the music and your shared heartbeats. Memories flicker, like pages of a faded scrapbook caught in the wind—sunlit and shadowed. The heavy musk of aged velvet curtains shifts into the fresh scent of cut grass and summer nights, the cool touch of lakewater, and the honeyed warmth of sunshine lingering on his skin. Hummed lyrics, shared laughter, the comfort of being by his side. You liked the version of yourself reflected in his eyes.

Recollections you locked away come back in a deluge. Past moments, both sweet and sharp, weave together, softening the edges of old wounds. Each verse, each look from him, peels back layers of hurt you’d clung to. The bitter shell around your heart begins to crack, dislodging the shards within. Lighter now, your wounds can start to mend. The remaining scars are reminders, but a warmth begins to unfurl in their place, reluctant and bewildering. It’s not forgiveness yet, but the possibility is closer for him and for yourself.

You got me wrapped around your finger

Notes spiral upwards, threading through the shadow-laden lattice of ropes and rigging until they dissipate into the darkness above. Under the glare of the stage lights, the harmonies that once defined you rekindle, sparking to life. Your fingers find his with intention, intertwining with deliberate grace, palm to palm, sliding, locked together. Warmth spreads through the both of you. It's unexpected the way lyrics unravel you, making room for something new. Your gaze leaves his, returning to the performance, but you lean into Eddie, your head tipping to rest on his shoulder. The breath releases from his chest in a shuddering sigh.  And he feels an awful lot like home. 

Do you have to let it linger?

Do you have to, do you have to, do you have to let it linger?

Listen to the acoustic version of Linger here Rest in peace, Delores. Ni bheidh a leitheid ann aris.

Big, huge, giant, hugs and sloppy wet kisses for sticking with me. I know the wait was long. Your encouragement got me through it. Especially Leighanne and Taylor who had to put up with me whining.

All your song suggestions have made this fic so fun to write. Please keep 'em coming.

We are about halfway through, kittens. It's about to get bumpy.

For updates follow @tornupdates

#steve harrington #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #eddie munson smut #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson fanfic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington smut #stranger things fanfic #torn series

[osachiyo]

⊹ note. . .stole this idea from my wife's thoughts :( so sorry stinky but it was too hot− you are truly a genius <3 ya'll she did one here so go check hers out as well !!! >:( | no warnings, it's pretty straightfoward− you ride kolya's face with clown makeup on <3 kolya eats ass btw he told me (mdni)

↓ divider is by @/cafekitsune !! :D

you finally pulled away from your boyfriend− the clownish makeup suiting him perfectly. it was totally his style too, and he loved it. though you will say, the process of actually putting the makeup on him was quite....exhausting. he kept touching random products and asking you stupid questions like−

"hey- baby, what does this do?" he was holding up a container of concealer, pumping some out and rubbing it on his hands like soap. you quickly snatched the bottle away from him− facepalming as he sniffed his hand and looked up at you with a grin. "don't waste the product, kolya! this was like− 30 dollars!" you scolded, putting it away from his reach. nikolai only pouted before sitting still and letting you resume your work.

yeah, that was very irritating but whatever, right? at least the suffering was worth the final product. god, did he look like the most handsome clown ever− towering over you with a malicious grin as he slowly backed you up against the wall. "my my, what a pretty lady we have here? why has such a beauty like you come to this humble clown?" ugh, was he really getting into character right now? whatever, you figured it would be fun to play along, right?

"well, mister clown, I wanted to see what tricks you have up those sleeves of yours~" you spoke slowly, feigning innocence as you gave him your best doe-eyes, getting on your tippy toes to wrap your arms around the so called "clown's" neck− his lips stretching to reveal a downright maniacal grin as he gripped your waist, "oh my ! well, I'd be glad to show you a very... special trick of mine.."

and that's how you ended up seated comfortably on nikolai's face− him being nose deep into your gushing cunt as you gripped the headboard. "f-fuck− kolya! feels so good.." you babbled, basically humping his face− the lipstick you put on him earlier now completely smudged, some of it even stained your inner thighs− and of course on your pretty little clit.

he didn't tease− nor did he want to this time, much to your surprise. and who were you to complain when his tongue was buried deep inside of you? his pointy nose nudging your clit as he devoured you like his very last meal on earth. his hands were grabbing the plush globes of your ass− fingernails digging into the soft fat which were for sure to leave marks the following morning.

"s-shit− doll," he moaned into your cunt, eyes rolling back behind closed lids as he went drunk from your taste. you tasted like the sweetest ambrosia to him and god, was it nasty how his tongue pulled out of your pussy to lick at your puckered hole− a squeal leaving your mouth at the new sensation. your hips were shaking at this point, nails digging into the hard wood of your bedpost and leaving small indents. kolya only snickered at your reaction before going back to slurp at your cunt.

you felt borderline intoxicated by the feeling of his tongue pushing in and out− nose repeatedly brushing against your swollen clit and something in you finally snapped.

nikolai let out a guttural groan when you grabbed a fistful of his snowy hair before grinding down on his face. his eyes widened momentarily at your bold move, slurping your juices with even more ferocity and eagerness− he was desperate to have you cum all over his mouth.

and you did, squirting all over his face with a broken moan leaving your plump lips− your lover happily gulping down everything you had to offer.

you finally got off his face once he was done cleaning you up, and god was he drenched. nikolai's face was flushed down to his neck, the makeup completely ruined− leaving him looking utterly debauched. a sleazy grin splayed on his swollen red lips but his eyes held mischief, "didn't expect you to squirt f'me, sweetheart. should've done this ages ago."

"yeah, yeah− lets clean up now, hm?" you sighed, running a hand through your mess of a ponytail. "oh, but we haven't even gone to the good part yet~" he pouted, wrapping his arms around you as he buried his face into your neck, breathing in your scent.

"I'll suck you o−!" you got cut off by your own yelp when nikolai picked you up by the back of your knees− your back flush against his heaving chest.

"nuh uh, dove. i'm gonna fuck you and fill you up till i'm satisfied.." he laughed, slapping the tip of his cock against your sensitive cunt.

"after all.. you wanted to see what tricks this clown has up his sleeves, right?"

©sachiyoh— do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated♡

TAGS »»————> @hopefulpain @inkmooon @constant-existential-terror @nda-approval @mellieellie @lxverss @lynxxyyy @nanamibeloved

@sorahatsumi @himebwrries @nopethenope @neviex @fyodorisbbg @stygianoir @saharei @x-lunawrites-x @munnaitorei @emyyy007 @dearhoney-31 @the-foreigner @angoisfine @hannzai @honeycombflowers @yuiiasathesilly @kaithegremlin @poisonedslop @sukiischaotic @squigglewigglewoo @boba-is-good @cupidszvlvr @ashthemadwriter @4xxxv @bloobewy @mrs-bakugou @hauntedsol @ask-me-or-not @hanakotateyama @qqingque @lunaeheroine18 @kissesmellow21 @dazaichuuya69 @xxsilverjackalxx @gettinshiggywithit @leftrunawaybanana @deaths-presence @sugaredpersimmon @rjssierjrie @iheartpieck @angelof-darkness @otakudul @dazaisimpletmereadfanficspls @hellokitty-4-lele @scinclaitnoir @aly-insanity @kemis-world @bisexuawolfsalt @thateldribitch

#bsd #bungo stray dogs #bsd smut #bsd x reader smut #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs smut #bungou stray dogs smut #bsd fics #bsd nikolai #nikolai gogol #nikolai smut #nikolai x reader smut #nikolai x reader #bsd imagines #nikolai gogol x reader #nikolai gogol x reader smut #nikolai gogol smut #nikolai imagines #౨ৎ — archive・

[bigenergy777]

Steamy~ Liam Dunbar

WARRING~ Cursing, Shower sex, Unprotected sex.

Hello, I hope this isn't too bad. This is my first time writing smut, and I hope you like it. If you have any tips, I'd gladly take them.

After washing your body, you closed your eyes for a moment. Only opening them when your shower curtain was yanked open.

You screamed, throwing the first thing you saw, which was a bottle of shampoo.

“Ow, you could have knocked my eyes out.” Is the first thing you hear before finally seeing that familiar blonde hair that you're used to running your hands through every night.

"Liam!" you groaned. "I told you to stop doing that! You can't just break into my house like you're going to murder me!"

"I'm sorry, I should have called.” He smiled sheepishly, standing naked in front of you.

"No shit," you muttered, pushing your hair out of your face.

"Can I get in?" He smiled sheepishly.

"Go ahead. You're already naked. You would have gotten in anyway." You giggled at him. "That doesn't mean I'll entertain you, though."

You tried your best to keep your face and your eyeline straight as Liam got in.

He was behind you, and you could feel him pressing up against your body as he softly kissed your neck. sending a shiver down your spine. 

"I missed you," he smirked, hearing your breath hitch.

"Well, I didn’t miss you.” You say you are trying to keep a straight face.

"Ouch, you wound me," he chuckled, placing a hand on his heart. Taking his hand, he starts tickling you. “Stop, Stop.” You squirm in his arms.

“Take it back. Tell me you missed me, and I’m the most amazing boyfriend in the world.” He continued tickling you.

"No, never,” you giggle. trying to get his arms off of you.

“Not until you say it, say it.” He held onto you tighter.”

“Okay, okay, I missed you, and you're the most amazing, sexiest boyfriend in the world." You giggle.

 "See, that wasn’t so hard, baby.” He smiled, turning me around and looking down at you. "Yes, it was horrible.” You giggle, wrapping my arms around his neck. 

“I love you, Y/N.” He smiled against your lips, pulling me in closer by the waist.

“I love you too, Liam.” You smile, lifting up on your tippy toes and kissing him.

Liam’s groans kissing you hungryly and eagerly. trailing his hands up and down your body, making little moans fall out of your mouth.

Separating his mouth from yours, Liam starts trailing kisses from your lips to your cheek, down your neck, and towards that sweet spot behind your ear. 

“Liam, please.” You moan, fisting his hair, not knowing what you want but needing something, anything.

“Patience, baby patience.” Liam smirked, getting on his knees and trailing kisses down your body.

He was on his knees, looking up at you with his gorgeous, sparkling blue eyes. It was probably the hottest thing you have ever seen. 

"You are the most beautiful girl I have ever laid eyes on," he grinned, kissing all over your body and skipping the spot where you needed him most.

"Please,” you whine, closing your eyes.

“Please what?” He smirked, nibbling on your inner thighs.

“Please, touch me; please, I need it so bad.” You begged, gripping the back of his head, trying to push him to where you needed him most. "Well, since you asked so nicely, how could I say no?"

He smirked. His hands grabbed your ass, and his face was just beneath you. You gasped as he pressed tiny kisses directly on your clit. holding onto a fistful of his hair. He went straight for your clit, sucking aggressively as you pulled on his hair.

"Oh, that feels so good, baby, so so good," you gasped. Liam sucked on your clit, like he was starving and you were his meal, roughly parting your legs a bit as he did.

You could feel his fingers teasing you. He slipped a long finger in, making you gasp slightly.

You felt him ducking beneath you, trying to push you over him completely. His finger hooked upwards,toying with your G-spot expertly. He rubbed at it almost professionally.

You could barely keep it together at this point. Making more room for himself, he slipped another one in, which felt like ecstasy.

He growled furiously as he ate you out, sucking on your clit and finger-fucking you faster, sloping in a third finger. His fingers are amazing, and he knows all the right places. You could hear him chuckling to himself. Cocky little shit.

And still, you could tell he was even getting off on it. He loved pleasuring you, especially when he got to watch you completely fall apart on his tongue.

Lifting his head, he replaces his tongue with his thumb, rubbing fast circles on your clit and fingering you harder. making you shout.

"Yeah, you like that, baby, huh? Am I making you feel good?” He asked with a smirk, watching different expressions flash across your face.

“Stop, stop.” You moan, trying to push his head away.

"What? can't take it, baby." He chuckled 

“No more, take your fingers out, fuck me, please fuck me.” You begged, pulling his hair.

“All you had to do was ask.” He chuckled, removing his fingers, pressing one last kiss on your clit, making you whine, and then got off his knees, standing up.

Once he’s stood up, you grab the back of his neck, pulling him down and smashing your lips together. 

Grabbing the back of your legs, he lifts you up, shoving himself all the way in without warning. 

You moaned almost pornographically, digging your nails into his flesh as he thrust aggressively.

He growled quietly in your ear as he aggressively kissed all over your neck. His thrusts were loud, banging you against the wall over and over again. But you didn't care. Hell, you couldn't even feel the pain.

All you could feel was the pleasure that he brought to you, banging you against the bathroom wall as he cupped your ass, nibbling his teeth against your soft skin, and your nails dug into his back, drawing blood from how hard you were clinging on to him, but he didn’t seem to mind as he was groaning out your name.

“Fuck, Y/N, you feel so good, baby.” He groaned, shoving his head into your neck. 

"Oh, Liam, yes, Liam." You moaned

"Yeah, you like that, baby. God, you're so tight.” He groaned, sucking bruises into your neck and collarbone.

You moaned as he fucked and kissed you, putting equal amounts of energy into both. 

With even more aggressive thrusts into the wall, he twitched inside of you, and your breath hitched in pleasure. 

"You make me feel so good, such a good girl. Huh, your daddy's a good girl, aren’t you, baby?” He moaned in your ear.

"Yes, I’m a good girl. I’m your good girl, Daddy." I’m going to cum. Can I come, please, Daddy? I need to so badly." You whine, pulling his hair, earning a grunt in return.

“Come on, baby, I can feel it. Cum for Daddy." He moans, reaching down towards your clit and rubbing fast circles on it while sucking on your nipples.

Both of you moaned as you came together.

You sighed, throwing your head back, exhausted. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, still holding you up against the wall as if you weighed nothing.

"God, I love you.” He said he was pressing kisses all over your face.

“I love you too.” You giggle, squirming in his arms.

Sinking to his knees, he held you up against the wall. He parted your legs, grinning eagerly. "Round two."

"Ugh, you have the best mouth, and I hate it," you admitted. "I don't know. I think you love it." He smirked, shoving his face back in between your legs, leaving you breathless.

#teen wolf #teen wolf smut #liam dunbar #liam dunabr imagine #liam dunbar smut #liam Dunbar teen #teen wolf imagine

[minv97]

♡

Warning nsfw content Minors dni.

Contains unprotected sex, mentions of cum and overstimulation and everything else nasty.

Friends with benefits, fem reader and Felix bet that reader can't sleep with anyone else because according to him it's "my pussy".

+

Hii! So I found out I hate doing requests and I've been gone for a good week or 2 but I'm back! I'll be posting more often hopefully but I hope u guys enjoy this! Been an idea in my head for awhile now and I'm obsessed with Lee Felix these days but who isn't? TAKE CARE

You're not surprised to see Felix standing in your living room when you get home, he's got an annoying smirk on his pretty pink lips upon seeing your arrival and he's giving you a look that just screams I fucking told you so.

"I'm not in the mood Felix." You say before he can even start and he puts his hands up in a surrendering gesture.

"Wasn't gonna say anything, sweetheart." He smiles at you innocently but you know Felix well enough to know he's just waiting to pour alcohol in your cut.

"I'm serious," you throw your purse down on the floor more aggressively than you had meant to. "I'll fucking kill you if you say it."

Felix can barely hold back a laugh, eyes squinting as he walks to you with open arms.

"Fine, I won't say I told you so," he says as he pulls you into his chest. "Want to tell me what happened?"

You groan, squeezing your eyes shut tight before hiding your face in his chest as the memories came flooding back to the surface of your brain. All you wanted to do was go on about your day and try to pretend it never happened.

"He couldn't get me to cum-" you groan again, feeling heat rushing to your face.

"Is that all?" You can feel Felix's chest begin to shake as he tries to contain his laughter only for your sake.

"-I had to fake an orgasm and he kinda caught on which resulted in me leaving and it was so awkward. I thought I was going to die."

"Wanna know why you couldn't cum?" Felix asks tauntingly, forcing your chin up to look him in his eyes and he places a peck on the tip of your nose. "It's 'cause he's not me."

You can't stop yourself from rolling your eyes at the cocky motherfucker, hating the fact you knew deep down inside he was right, you were hooked to Felix.

"Lucky for you though, I'm here. What would you do without me?" He presses his lips against your cheek in a soft sweet peck.

"I'd have to start buying my brownies from the store." You wrap your arms around his neck and lean on your tippy toes to connect your lips with his in a kiss for a moment

"You know damn well I'm good for other things too but I see you've forgotten, must need a reminder hm love?"

And that's exactly how you ended up under Felix for the umpteenth time, Felix thinks it's where you should've been all along, under him with him between your legs and his cock stuffing your needy pussy to the brim. He loves this position just so he can see your face as he slides out of you only to slide right back in your velvety walls with a sqwelsh, loves seeing your eyes roll to the back of your head as your brain turns to mush all because of his cock.

"Look at that-" he has to hold the back of your neck up to get you to watch when he slides out of your pussy again, only to push right back in your pulsating count, watching the way your walls wrap around him so deliciously. "That's all mine baby, my pussy. Say it."

"Ahh fuck Felix..." You whine out, Felix knows your head is practically mush right now and it makes him chuckle but he's determined, slapping your pussy hard enough to see if that'll make you come back to your senses just enough.

"Say it, tell me who's pussy this is." He demands, rutting in to you at such a fast pace it's hard for you to form a coherent sentence.

"Yours." You breathe out, hands searching for something to grab onto and you opt for your bedsheets, fisting the fabric in your hands for deer life. "Yours, yours, yours. Ts'your pussy-"

"There you go, good girl." He watches the way your face scrunches up in pleasure as you cream all over his cock, lips parting and he can't help but to kiss your parted lips as he fucks you through your high till your thighs are shaking from the overstimulation.

"Too much- pleasee-" You beg, eyes beginning to gloss over with tears from how overstimulated your pussy feels but Felix isn't done yet.

"Give me one more baby, please? I know you can fucking take it." Felix continues thrusting in your pussy at his same fast pace, not bothering to wipe your mascara and tear covered face nor the drool spilling from the corner of your lips, sadistically basking at the sight of your fucked out state.

"fuck fuck fuck." You mumble repeatedly as you begin to feel that familiar knot forming again, Felix's thrusts get sloppier and he reaches his hand down to begin playing with your clit, rubbing hard and fast circles as he rests his forehead against yours.

"Take that fucking dick, that's it, baby fuck." Felix can't help but ramble on as he feels himself getting closer and closer to his release, becoming drunk off your pussy and cumming instantly with you when he feels your pussy clenching around him like crazy as you reach your own orgasm, whole body shaking in pleasure as he fucks his white hot sticky fluids into you for good measure. "So next time you try and give my pussy away you'll remember this is mine." He pecks your lips a few times, patting your fucked out pussy a few times in the process and making you flinch with each pat.

<33

Can find all of my work under #minv97

#skz smut #smut #stray kids smut #enhypen smut #bts smut #minv97 #felix smut #lee felix smut #kpop smut #stray kids hard thoughts #the boyz x chubby reader #felix hard hours #felix hard thoughts #lee felix hard thoughts #lee felix hard hours

[esmedelacroix]

Coffee Shop Love Pt.7

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!reader

summary: He's as stern and cold as the snow falling from the sky blanketing the bustling streets of Nueva York, Miguel O'Hara stumbles upon a hidden gem of a coffee shop just around the corner from Alchemax. Only problem is the annoying-as-shit smiley-ass barista.

contents: slow burn, no use of y/n, fluffy, not proofread,

author's note: Hey lovies, I've had so much fun writing this series. I'm very happy that so many people like my writing. I'm trying to improve always in my English skills so I hope they are good. I hope you love this finale as much as I do, enjoy...

word count: 1.1k

Pt.1, Pt.2, Pt.3, Pt.4, Pt. 5, Pt.6, Pt.7, Sequel: Sweet Tooth

There he was standing at the entrance not even willing to listen to what you had to say. Miguel holding up his hand for you to stop taking was like a smack in the face. You had basically confessed to him, confirming the verity of the contents of your voicemail, and his response was for you to stop?

"Come here Baby," he muttered in a low tone. You slowly and cautiously walked up to him. You faced him where he stood right in front of the entrance.

"Look up," he commanded gently.

Then you saw it. The reason for him running back into the store. The reason why he wouldn't even walk all the way into the store to speak to you about your confession. Those bright green leaves with the red ribbon. He had planned it all. Of course he did, you were both standing under the mistletoe. The very mistletoe hat had gotten his hair caught in all the time. The very mistletoe you had both stood under together staring at each other once; before awkwardly dispersing. Only this time Miguel had brought you here.

"Someone told me once, that they were a great kisser, but I lacked the holiday cheer to get a smooch," he started causing you to giggle at the reference. He held intimate eye contact with you while pulling you closer by your waist. "Kiss me, Baby," he muttered.

And so you did. You got on your tippy toes and kissed him. It was short and sweet. But too prompt for Miguel's liking; he had been waiting far too long to kiss you. So he cupped your cheeks with his hands and pressed his lips to yours.

His kiss was like a mix of want and need, and you could practically taste the craving. Your heart was doing a marathon, keeping up with the rhythm of his passionate kiss, like a beat that had a mind of its own. His hands, calloused and warm, traced the contours of your face, leaving a trail of sensation that burned like the touch of a summer sun. In that stolen moment, it was like the world outside had just disappeared, and you were caught up in this whirlwind of feelings where the line between you and him was blurred. The scent of his cologne mingled with the raw scent of shared breaths, creating a symphony that encapsulated the intensity of the connection. The world outside ceased to exist, and in that fervent embrace, you were enveloped in the sweet frenzy of a kiss that transcended the ordinary into the realm of the extraordinary.

The two of you pulled away to catch your breath. Your face immediately heated up thinking about what had just conspired between the two of you. "That was—" Miguel started.

"—magical" you sighed as you turned into putty in his arms.

"I'm really happy you chose to send that voicemail. I was thinking the same thing as you. I just didn't know how to tell you without scaring you away. I'd rather live with my feelings for you haunting me than lose you as a friend," he confessed.

You suddenly wrapped your arms around him resting your head against his chest. He hugged you back rubbing your back with his big hand. You both pulled away to look at each other with the comfortable silence embracing the two of you. "It's already so late, would you like to stay over?" you asked as you fidgeted with your hair.

"Yes I would love to," he replied.

The two of you went straight to bed that night. After taking your shower you sat up on your bed waiting for him to come out, while processing everything that had happened. You were fatigued but you wanted to wait for him to hold you like he had before. Your eyes were practically shut but were trying your hardest to stay awake.

The bathroom door finally swung open and Miguel walked into your bedroom to see you struggling to stay awake. "Were you waiting for me?" he asked as he walked over to the bed. You nodded your head and spread your arms out waiting for him to come and cuddle. He cuddled at your cute action. Just then you felt part of the bed sink in, compelling you to mile softly.

You could feel his presence even when he wasn't touching you yet. He finally took you in his arms and laid you down against him. You rested your head against his chest, you could hear his heartbeat. It was slow and relaxing.

There was something different about the night. Miguel was running his hand through your hair and patting your head. All you could feel was an incredible sense of warmth. For once you didn't feel cold in bed. Maybe all you needed to cure your sensitivity to the cold was someone to hold you at night.

For the first time in forever, you slept in complete peace. Wholly protected from the cold by Miguel.

The next morning Miguel left for work with a hot black coffee, a muffin, and a kiss. Even the neighbors picked up on how upbeat you were feeling that day.

The following night while you sat at your shop waiting for Miguel to walk through the doors you couldn't help but fantasize about your blooming relationship with him. Your love life was finally blooming into something beautiful and—JINGLE! JINGLE! You looked up to see Miguel walking in with a grin.

"Welcome to Mug & Muffin, what can I make you tonight?" you asked looking up at him with a sweet smile.

"Could I get a kiss from a smokin' hot barista?" he quipped.

You ran around the counter and wrapped your arms around his neck to give him a kiss. You kissed him like you hadn't seen him in years. He suddenly lifted you up onto the counter and trapped you between his arms. You squealed and giggled hitting his shoulder playfully. He rubbed circles in his hips slowly and kissed you sweet and slow. He kissed you sweet and slow and you felt the world around you melt away. "Alright that's enough, I made you a drink," you said.

You hopped off the counter, got your own drink, and sat at his favorite table with him. You couldn't help but feel the warmth of the love that had blossomed between you and Miguel inside the warm confines of your coffee shop as you both sat there, enjoying your Christmas brews.

Next Sequel: Sweet Tooth...

taglist:

@iite-cool@jewelz-teehe@br0-please@thesilenthill@d1lf-loverrr@corpsebridenightamare@laysmt@bitchystrawberrystudent@lotionlamp@local-mr-frog@scaleniusrm@migueloharastruelove@thedevax@veyveys @amber-content@3zae-zae3@simmerarmy

#miguel o hara #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x you #miguel o'hara x you #astv miguel #across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 x reader #spider man atsv #spiderman into the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse #astv x reader #miguel fanfic #miguel o #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o hara fluff #miguel spiderverse #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel imagine #spiderman 2099 #miguel o hara x reader #miguel fluff

[lucidlivi]

Chosen For Pleasure (XIV)

Series Masterlist/Warnings

Tag List: @ladysparkles78 @suckitands33 @little-x-wolf @stoneyggirl2 @creative-writing92 @jc-winchester @mrsjenniferwinchester @lessons-of-red @jamerlynn @deans-spinster-witch @kazsrm67 @deans-baby-momma @willow-sages @ritz-hell-hotel @perpetualabsurdity @mhessellund @itzabbyxx @chriszgirl92 @abbybarnesstuff @larrem88 @commonsenseishard @impalaspixie @notsogoofyjelly @hzllxhoundxx @taylortots-world @k-slla @heavenlyackles @spnfamily-j2 @buckybarnes-1917 @foxyjwls007 @spnbaby-67 @readingsins @lauraashley93 @antisocialcorrupt @anixiiee @jackles010378 @alternativeprincess @rosecentury @lelilw1 @cevansbaby-dove @cutedisneygrl @djs8891 @bakugouswh0r3 (thank you to everyone who's been here since the beginning, thank you for always hyping me up and for loving this story! If you want to be added please let me know! It's only going to be a few more parts, so get in while you can!)

I hid a quote in here from one of my favorite tv shows, besides supernatural of course... see if you can catch it! If you can, let's be best friends!

gun violence and mental illness talk at the end of this chapter, please read with caution if it is triggering to you in any way.... if you are struggling with mental health, please reach out! I love you and I'm happy you're here!

"is this really necessary?" I asked Jensen, my eyes befalling the large man in a suit standing next to him.

"yes, until they catch Riley, I'm not risking your safety... besides Mark's a professional, he knows how to be discreet, you won't even know he's around." Jensen said kissing my cheek.

I highly doubt that.

A big burley security man following my every movement.... yeah they'll never see him coming.

I sighed deeply, knowing I'd never be able to talk Jensen out of it.

I stood on my tippy toes connecting his lips with mine. It was a short brief kiss, but it was all I needed to get my heart racing.

"I should go, don't want to be late for my first day as Chief Editor." I said leaning in to Jensen's warm embrace.

"I'll pick you up after work, we have some things to discuss."

"things to discuss, what sort of things?"

"you never answered my question." Jensen smirks knowingly before departing.

It's been a hectic few days, my mind has been on overload. I'm lucky I even remembered to put pants on today. Of course I haven't been able to think about Jensen's proposition of moving in with him yet. I definitely needed to talk to Stella first.

"Mark." I said nodding my head at the tall man.

Mark starts to follow me in to the building quietly.

"who's the big dude?" Stella says as soon as we get inside.

I let out a sigh, so much for being discreet.

I roll my eyes as my coworkers glance at Mark, who's right on my tail.

"Mark.." I answer shrugging my shoulders.

I walked past everyone, going to my new office. I was surprised to see it was completely different than the last time I had been in here.

"I uh redecorated, I thought it would help ya know, so you didn't think about it." Stella said from the doorway.

I looked around the spacious office, every trace of Gray had been erased.

"I love you Stell." I said, a tear in my eye.

I engulfed my best friend in a hug. We stood in each other’s embrace, smiling.

"Sooo do I have to call you Ms. (L/N) now?"

"Oh god please don’t!" I laughed.

I took a deep breath, a comfortable silence fell between us.

"this is crazy right, I mean your life has done a complete three sixty."

I let Stella's words sink in, she was completely right. A few months ago if you'd told me this would be my life, I would've laughed in your face.

"it totally has... sometimes I don't even know how to keep up." I admitted glancing at Mark who stood outside my office like a soldier.

"okay what's up with Mark?" Stella giggled looking at the large man.

"I'm afraid Jensen insists, just until they catch Riley."

"ah yes, the crazy."

"Stella, she's not crazy, she's mentally ill."

I could see Stella noticeably roll her eyes.

"why are you defending her, she literally wants to hurt you (y/n/n)!"

I chewed on my bottom lip nervously as her words sunk in.

I didn't know what Riley's intentions were, but from the damage done to my car, I gathered that we wouldn't be talking over a cup of coffee anytime soon.

"I’m sorry, I know things have been crazy for you, and I just want you to know that I'm here, to listen, to talk, to eat our feelings away with chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream... whatever you need." Stella said giving me a warm smile.

"Jensen asked me to move in with him." I blurted out, the thought weighing heavily on my mind.

"oh my gosh, that's great!" Stella squealed.

"it is?" I question, surprised by her reaction.

"it is if that's what you want?" Stella questions.

I look at the pretty brunette sitting in front of me. I didn't know what I did to deserve her friendship some days.

"I really love him Stella." I whispered.

"then you should do it."

"but I'll miss you.."

"please, you can't get rid of me that easily.."

I engulfed my friend in another hug, squeezing her tightly.

"am I interrupting something?"

I let go of Stella to see David, the owner of the magazine standing in the doorway.

"no, I’m sorry sir." I said smiling.

"just wanted to see how you were settling in, and ask if you made any progress on finding me some new voices?"

I smiled widely at Stella.

"yes sir, in fact this is one right here! Stella is the best journalist we have." I said pushing Stella forward.

Stella nervously smiled at him.

"Stella is it, well why don't we go have a talk then?" David said reaching out a hand for her to shake.

I beamed with pride as I watched them leave the office to settle in the conference room.

I could never repay Stella for how much she does for me, but this was a start.

I heard the office phone start to ring, snapping me out of my daze.

"Ms. (L/N)" I answered.

I heard Jensen chuckle on the other end.

"Ms. (L/N), sounds incredibly sexy when you say it." Jensen purred.

"oh please, I thought I was going to come undone, the first day you said my name." I shot back.

"I was just calling to see how your first day as chief editor is going?"

I felt the smile grace my face.

"good actually, it's kind of making me nervous.." I said picking my nails.

"why is it making you nervous?"

"have you ever heard the term regression to the mean?"

"no.." Jensen said sounding confused.

“It means that life can’t ever be all bad or all good. You know, eventually, things have to come back to the middle.”

"I'm not understanding baby."

"I mean that everything's been okay lately, you know, we're okay, the jobs okay, Stella and I are okay.. the middle."

"so you mean things are about to get really good.." Jensen started

"or really bad." I finished cutting him off.

"sweetheart I think this whole Riley thing has you worked up, everything will be fine, okay, nothing is going to happen." Jensen reassured.

He was probably right. I mean this whole Riley situation did have me pretty worked up.

I just felt it was something more though, like there was something looming over us and I just couldn't figure out what it was.

It could've been my conversation with Elle too. I couldn't get her words out of my head... I just want to know who my competition is.

What did that even mean?

Was she going to try to steal Jensen away from me?

I guess it would be steal Jensen back, considering she had him first.

I didn't realize how quiet I was until I heard Jensen's smooth voice through the speaker.

"baby talk to me, what's going through your mind?"

"I think you're right, I'm just a little overwhelmed, I guess Mark wasn't such a bad thing." I said staring at the man who hasn't moved from the entrance of my office.

"see I told you..." Jensen said in a teasing tone.

"I don't have to take him everywhere do I? He's not coming home with me!"

I heard Jensen's hearty laugh boom through the speaker.

"he's definitely NOT going home with you.. he's just for when I can't be with you to protect you."

"my hero.." I swooned.

Jensen laughed again.

"I miss you already." I whispered.

"oh god I sound so needy." I added quickly.

"I miss you too.."

"so I uh talked to Stella about your proposition." I said biting my thumb nail.

"oh yeah? and how did that go?"

"good.." I answered being vague in my answer purposely.

"and do you have an answer for me?"

"yeah..." I whispered not being able to fight the smile on my face.

"well get on with it then, c'mon woman you're killing me here." Jensen whined.

"I mean, I'll have to get some things from the apartment." I said.

"so that's a yes?"

"yes Jensen, I'll move in with you."

****************************************************

"Are you going home? I'm going to grab some things and stay at Jensen's tonight." I told Stella as we gathered our things, the end of our day approaching.

"No, Matt's taking me out to dinner to celebrate my new promotion, thanks for that by the way! I can't believe I'm the new lead journalist!" Stella squealed making me smile.

"I didn't do anything, that was all you."

"Still, I couldn't have gotten it without you putting in a word to David for me."

"It's the least I could do, you do so much for me."

Stella wrapped her arms around me squeezing me tightly for the third time this day.

I've been so caught up in all things Jensen that I realized I really missed my friend, and I was so lucky to have her in my corner.

"woah, that's my woman."

Stella let go, throwing a look to Jensen who now stood in the doorway to my office. I didn’t see Mark anymore, Jensen must have dismissed him.

"nice office..." Jensen admired.

"I redecorated, thank you very much." Stella piped up.

"so when I need any redecorating done, I'll know who to call." Jensen smirked.

Stella glanced at her phone quickly before meeting my eyes again.

"I think Matt's here, I'll see you soon.." Stella said squeezing my hand before going over to Jensen.

"Jensen, take care of her... if you don't I'll chop your dick off." Stella threatened.

"Stella!" I exclaimed mortified.

Jensen just laughed in response.

"You have my word Stella, I mean I would kind of like to keep my dick." Jensen said making me roll my eyes at the pair.

"see you tomorrow." Stella said with a final wave.

Jensen smiled at her shaking his head. He came over to me wrapping me in a hug.

“she’s something..” Jensen laughed.

“you have no idea… are you ready to go home?” I asked cocking my eyebrow.

“as long as I’m with you I am home.” Jensen said.

I rolled my eyes at his line.

“that was incredibly cheesy.” I laughed.

“I thought it was romantic… even a little bit?” Jensen pouted.

“okay just a little bit.”

Jensen smiled, leaning down to pull me in for a kiss. I took a shaky breath as he connected our lips. I felt electricity pulsating through my skin as his lips moved on mine.

“I love you.” He said as he pulled away.

“I love you more.” I whispered.

Jensen gave me another quick peck.

“Impossible.”

Jensen grabbed my bag with one hand, grasping mine with other, as he led us out of the office. Cole stood by the car waiting with an open door.

“Ms. (L/N).” Cole nodded as I slid in.

“You really need to give him a break..” I said laughing at Jensen.

“Cole doesn’t need a break, do ya Cole?”

“no Mr. Ackles.”

“Cole you can be honest I know this one’s a lot to deal with.” I said smacking Jensen’s chest playfully.

“between you and me ma’am.” Cole started giving Jensen a smirk.

I laughed at Jensen’s flustered expression.

Cole pulled up to our apartment, quickly getting out so he could open my door. Jensen shuffled out after me. As soon as we stepped out of the car, his phone started ringing. He pulled it out checking the caller ID.

“It’s Jared.”

“you can take it.. I’m just going to grab some toiletries and a couple outfits, I’ll be right back.” I said kissing his cheek.

Jensen offered me a grateful smile as he answered his phone.

I unlocked the door, before grabbing our mail and going inside. I would have to remember to reroute my mail to the new address. I threw the mail on the counter, wanting to pack my things before I went through it.

I grabbed my overnight bag throwing articles of clothing in it before going to our bathroom. I made sure to grab my toothbrush, hairbrush and the other essentials. I glanced at my reflection in the mirror breathing a deep sigh.

I was really doing this.

I threw the rest of my stuff in my bag, zipping it up and walking back in to the kitchen. I set my bag down grabbing the mail to sift through it.

I turned around, feeling my blood run cold.

It was her.

Riley.

I gasped at the sight of her dropping the mail.

I didn’t know how she got in, the door was still locked.

I could see from the look on her face that she was distressed. I was afraid, but I wouldn’t let her see. I needed to remain calm.

“Riley… uh Jensen’s right outside, we could go see him.” I hesitantly said, holding my hands out so she could see I meant her no harm.

I shuddered as she pulled a gun from her pocket.

“I came to see you.”

I shivered, her voice was haunting, like she was in grave pain. I didn’t take my eyes off the gun she held to her side.

“okay..” I breathed.

“Jensen told me what happened Riley, I know you’re in a lot of pain, and I’m so sorry.. Jensen talks about you still, he cares about you.” I said trying to diffuse the situation.

I flinched as a warning shot rang out. I could feel the breath getting caught in my chest as I feared for my life.

“DON’T LIE!” Riley yelled, bringing the gun up so it was now pointed directly at me.

“just tell me what you have that I don’t.” she cried.

“nothing Riley, I’m nothing.” I pleaded.

“but he kisses you, and sleeps in your bed.” Riley said.

I felt the color drain from my face.

“how do you know that?”

“I saw you, I watched you… I know you love him but I do too.” Riley said eerily calm.

I thought back to the night when Jensen slept over. I thought I had seen someone but chalked it up to my imagination playing tricks on me… but now I know it was her watching us.

“Riley why don’t you put the gun down.” I begged trying to maintain my composure.

“you don’t even know him, what he likes, you don’t give him what he wants, he’s just pretending with you and he’ll get tired of pretending!” Riley growled.

Suddenly Jensen burst in the door followed by Cole.

Riley didn’t move the gun from me.

I could see the fear in Jensen’s eyes as he glanced at me.

“Riley..”

Jensen pointed at himself, asking Riley to turn the gun on him. Riley glanced between me and Jensen before turning the gun his way.

“Jensen don’t.” I cried, letting a few tears slip out.

Jensen held his hand out quieting me.

“I know you don’t want to hurt me Riley.” Jensen said, taking a step closer to her.

Riley breathed a heavy sigh as Jensen reached out wrapping his hand around the barrel of the gun. He yanked it out of her hands, switching the safety on, and putting it in his pocket.

“come here.” Jensen said reaching his arms out.

Riley collapsed in his arms crying. Jensen held her stroking her hair.

“Cole get (y/n) out of here, take her back home.” Jensen said.

Cole took a step towards me, but I took a step back.

“I’m not going anywhere.” I said not wanting to leave Jensen alone.

“(y/n) for once just do what I ask!” Jensen snapped.

I felt the tears roll down my cheeks as I grabbed Cole’s hand allowing him to lead me outside to the car. He opened the door gesturing for me to get in.

I dropped his hand stepping away from the car. I gave Cole a look, and started to walk down the street.

“Ms. (L/N) please.”

“stop it Cole.” I growled walking away.

I didn’t know where I was going, I just had to get away. I felt the tears staining my cheeks as I walked.

It was too much.

It was all too much.

for once just do what I ask..

he’s just pretending with you, and he’ll get tired of pretending..

I covered my ears trying to drown out the loud voices that were screaming at me.

I collapsed on the sidewalk, bringing my knees to my chest and sobbing.

this is what I meant.

regression to the mean..

Author Note:

I’m sorry for breaking your hearts again! Part fifteen will reveal a lot, so make sure you stick around to find out! If you liked this part please indicate so with a heart, comment, reblog, or a follow! It really is motivating! I appreciate you all!

xoxoxo

Liv

#jensen ackles #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles imagine #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles x female!reader #jensen x reader #jensen ackles fanfiction #dean winchester #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x reader #jensen ackles preference #jensen ackles series #jensen ackles smut #supernatural #supernatural smut #jensen x you #spn #dean winchester x you #jensen ackles fic

[pennywise-fucker]

In Too Deep

Homelander x Reader

Request: Homelander gets jealous

Warning: Swearing, Threats

A/N: I kept this one a little tame, I may do another when I'm feeling a little more feisty!

Y/N shrugged and chuckled, following alongside Deep, "It's not that bad", she rolled her eyes, laughing again as Deep shook his head repeatedly, "No, no, it's the fucking worst. I'm telling you!", he exclaimed, grinning and turning the corner, "I'm telling you, you'll see, they are the worst and you'll regret not listening to me", he added and kept going as Y/N entered the elevator. She couldn't help but laugh at how overly dramatic he was about everything. If anything was relatively unpleasant, it was the end of the world - she didn't understand how he managed to become a hero with that attitude.

As Y/N exited the elevator, she nearly walked into Homelander, "Shit!", she exclaimed and took a step back, "Sorry, I was distracted", she laughed, then froze when she saw the look on his face, "John, what's wrong?", she asked, putting her hand on his arm. "What was all that?", he asked, his face nearly blank, "What was what?", she responded, suddenly going through everything she'd done that day in her head. "You and Deep, what was that?", he pressed, his tone getting deeper and more annoyed. "What-", she started, then stopped abruptly. She hadn't done anything. They'd only been talking. What could he be referring to? "We were talking. I told him I wanted to try the new food truck, but he kept going on and on about how terrible it is. That's it", she assured him, placing both hands on each side of his face. Homelander's expression remained mostly blank, "You two have been doing a lot of talking. Giggling too", he observed, "Here..and elsewhere', he continued, stepping back and beginning to walk about the room, "It's only natural I'd get suspicious". Y/N stared at him confused, "I have no interest in Deep. You don't want me just hanging around people so I'm a little limited", she defended, moving further into the room, "I only want you, John. That's it", she assured him, walking up behind him and gently touching his arm, which he kept in place. "Are you certain about that?", his voice was softer now, but that didn't mean much, his mood went from 0-100 in seconds. "I'm positive", she whispered and tugged at his arm to get him to turn around, which he did. She stood on her tippy toes and gently kissed him, finding relief in him kissing her back. She smiled as she pulled back, "What triggered this?", she asked, stroking his face once again. Homelander tilted his head, "I dunno, just seemed flirtatious to me. But you're right. You wouldn't risk that", he chuckled and grabbed Y/N's hand, a smile on his face, but it seemed more.. malicious. "Risk what?", she questioned, watching his face switch to amusement, "Risk yourself. And him. I mean, come on, I couldn't leave you two alive if you went behind my back like that", he laughed, "Could you imagine the embarrassment?", he continued, the look on his face growing darker. Y/N took a deep breath, "That's a joke, right? You wouldn't actually-", Homelander cut her off before she was able to finish, "But you wouldn't do that to me. You wouldn't do that to us. Which is also why you'll be toning all of that down, now won't you?", he challenged, and Y/N felt a chill go up her spine. "Of course", she responded softly, not being able to bring herself to argue with him. Even if it wasn't fair, he clearly wasn't in his right mind. "Good!", he exclaimed and kissed her once again, "Now I've got some stuff to show you!", he said as he wrapped his arm around her and led her further into the room.

*Please consider tipping $1 to my Venmo if you enjoy my writing. It's not required, but definitely appreciated!*

#the boys #homelander #reader insert #homelander x reader #the deep #homelander x you #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #homelander fic #jealousy #antony starr #my writing #writing #the boys fanfic #hc #headcanon #comic

[lieutenantabrudas]

ngl lads i told myself i'd finish this for mother's day and then immediately forgot and just happened to finish it now anyway because i wanted to close the canvas and do something else. anyway hello good morning can i interest you all in a lawful neutral/evil navy milf

this is nautilea victrilianus, turian imperial navy. she's a vice admiral at the time of canon and a very highly-decorated shanxi veteran, as well as the wife of tibero quentius, turian chief ambassador (and possible councilor if cnclr sparatus dies, depending on timeline). born on rocam in 2094 terran, she met tibero during their mandatory services when they were briefly sharing a ship and the travels were interrupted by a solar storm, and they fell for each other instantly. they have four children together - atticus, valeria, and the twins bellicus and salvius - and now that tibero has switched from the army to xenopolitics, when she isn't out with the fleet (on the dreadnought Enninion, usually, under her own command) she usually resides on the citadel with him or at their beachfront home on his homeworld of parnithas around holidays. the two of them are also good friends with councilor sparatus and his wife aediteia, and frequently hang out together as a group; tibero is also known to spend time with the sparatuses by himself when nauti is away and he's lonely, with her blessing, because she hates it when he's lonely look at his face he's so sad :(

you can read about her mainly so far in these two fics: "a luncheon most foul" [AO3], her actual character introduction feat. teia and other tower spouses, and "a contest of titans" [AO3], from hackett's pov both during shanxi and many years later.

also she has the bird version of a yorkshire accent. for fun. and kinda because she was inspired by jason isaacs as zhukov in the death of stalin. more rambling under the cut i have so many Thoughts about this one horrible terror-bird

during shanxi, nautilea was a lieutenant-commander, and after her unit boarded a human ship and took several humans prisoner, she was placed in charge of their keep and interrogation. one of said prisoners was then-lieutenant-commander steven hackett. they both proceeded to be utterly abhorrent to each other, they both sucked, nauti was mean and violent and taking out her own emotional distress on hackett who had nothing to do with it, hackett was just as nasty and cruel back, neither one of them was a good person in this instance don't get it twisted. nautilea was worried about her husband and son atticus, both with the army (atticus being 21 and only a sergeant at the time, while tippi was a major) down on the ground on shanxi, and took it out on hackett, seeing it as humanity's fault that her loved ones were in danger while she was stuck up in orbit unable to do anything. it got worse when she lost contact with tibero, which would later turn out to be because he had been captured and taken prisoner, and then when atticus was med-evaced to her ship because he'd been grievously wounded and wouldn't speak to anyone, just cried for his mummy. his squadmates came forward and vouched that the humans who'd ambushed them had started to take them hostage, but needed "mama" to be translated for them as parental terms hadn't been translated yet, and then retreated once they learned what atticus was saying and how old he was, uncomfortable with the knowledge of what they'd done to someone so young. unfortunately, nautilea didn't care, and took out her rage on the humans in her charge. she calmed down significantly once atticus recovered enough to talk to her, and formally requested being taken off prisoner duty so she could focus on her son. hackett would never learn why she disappeared.

later on, hackett would continue to hold a grudge well into the future, while nautilea mostly put everything behind her and stopped caring, because her husband and chicks were safe and that was all that ever mattered to her. in the current period, she generally doesn't care about humans and leaves dealing with aliens (the ones who aren't actively shooting at her men, anyway) to her husband once he switches to xenopolitics. she cares about her people, and her duty to them, and that's what she focuses on. if tippi asks for her input, she'll give it, but for the most part she keeps work and home separate. it helps that when she comes home to tibero, her main line of thought is just about how happy she is to be home where she gets to be cuddled and cooked for and given shinies and not have to wear real people clothes if she doesn't want to, everything outside their apartment be damned. she does still think it's funny that she lives rent-free in hackett's head, especially after tibero is made chief ambassador under sparatus and hackett complains in the news about her. it's whatever. that was the old her. she's moved on.

... except in my "bad end" timeline, where the destiny ascension is left to die under shepard and hackett's orders, and she and tibero lose a very close friend. as hackett was in command of the fifth fleet and made the call to hang back and let the ascension burn, all those bad memories come roaring back, and nautilea goes on the warpath. when the alliance make a move to try and get more of their own ships defending the citadel, the council shoots them down and lets the turians take command instead, and nautilea is put right at the head of the fleet. hackett is not happy about this. nautilea is not happy about hackett killing her friend. the alliance's betrayal is taken as proof that they should have crushed the humans at shanxi, and while tibero tries to counsel peace, nautilea spirals, and becomes determined that what happened to ierian sparatus will not happen to her tippi. things get bad, they almost divorce, the series is about dealing with tragedy nobody's having a good time okay but it works out tippi insists on therapy because he recognizes she's grieving and cracking under the strain of trying to be the strong one

and, just for fun, her character inspo:

his intro with the slowmo and dramatic music is exactly what you should be thinking of when she arrives in luncheon most foul btw. as a treat. that's her that's nautilea. wife <3

#mass effect oc #turians #mass effect #turian oc #nautilea victrilianus #canon x oc #drawing #digital

[marauds-x]

Broken Promises

part two, fluff that ends in angst, readers house isn't specified, established relationship

cedric diggory x f!reader

"Cedric, promise me you'll be safe tomorrow, please." You had said the night before the challenge. It was the final task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament and to say you were worried for your boyfriend was an understatement. He had successfully completed the first task, slyly taking the golden egg. He had invited you with him to the Prefect bathroom to put the egg underwater. You had helped him find a spell to hold his breath underwater, you had been knocked out and woke up being saved by Cedric, put onto a dock with hundreds of kids watching, and you helped prepare Cedric for the last task.

"I will, love. I swear." Cedric said, putting his hands on your waist, holding you. You had spent the whole day with Cedric, trying to calm him down before the task that awaits him tomorrow.

"A swear is not a promise. Please, just.. we both know how dangerous these tasks have been." You look up at Cedric, taking his hands off your waist and holding them in yours.

"Okay, I promise I won't get hurt, love." He leaned down, kissing your cheek and smiling at you, tucking a strand of hair behind your hair. All you did was hug him, praying to anything out there that Cedric would be safe tomorrow.

You had barely slept a wink last night, too much on your mind to sleep. You slip off your bed, saying hi to your dorm mates and heading to the bathroom, showering and finishing getting ready. You put on your house uniform, throwing on a scarf and your tie before walking out of your dormitory and off to breakfast. You were supposed to meet Cedric by the Great Hall, walking quickly down the corridors before arriving at the hall, spotting Cedric and walking up to him.

"I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long, love." Pecking his lips, you take his hand in yours, heading inside and sitting down beside him at the Hufflepuff table to eat with you and Cedric's friends.

"Cedric, what time do you have to be there?" Whispering to Cedric, you take a muffin from the middle of the table, putting it onto your plate. "About 15 minutes before you have to be there."

You sighed, looking at Cedric and leaning on his shoulder. You felt tense and scared. "Not to be a downer, and I believe in you of course, but what happens if you get hurt? I don't think I'd be able to live with myself if you got seriously injured." All Cedric did was look at you, his brows slightly furrowed and his pupils dialating.

"Remember what I told you last night? I promise I won't get hurt, love." He held your hand under the table, softly moving his thumb against your knuckles.

After breakfast, you and Cedric walked to a secluded tower of the castle, looking at each other. "I love you, Cedric." You said, looking up at him and smiling. You wrapped your arms around the crook of his neck, his arms naturally going down to your waist, pulling you closer to him. You rest your head into the crook of his neck. "I love you too, Y/n." He smiled at you, moving his hands up and down the sides of your waist soothingly. Moving your hands up to his face, cupping his cheeks, you stand on your tippy toes and kiss him. It's a soft and relieving kiss that shows how much you both care for each other. You hold the kiss for a few seconds, stopping and looking down at your shoes. Suddenly, Cedric engulfs you in a hug, resting his head in your neck. "I love you so much, Cedric. Please, be safe my love." You played with his hair, a sad smile on your face.

He kissed your neck softly, sensing how tense you were. Whenever you were stressed or studying he'd always do these things like hold your hand or kiss your neck to soothe you.

You felt calmer, but something told you something was going to go wrong, you could feel it.

Standing in the front rows of the bleachers, you smile to your friends that are beside you and cheer Cedric name, occasionally chanting for Potter.

"He won't get hurt, right?" You say loudly to your friend, Ottoline, having to shout because of all the noise and commotion surrounding you and your friends.

"He'll be alright, Y/n, he's strong. We both know how much he loves you, right? He'll power through for you." She patted your shoulder, smiling at you before turning back to the big field that stood before the stands. Still, you had that feeling that had been haunting you since last night. The feeling that.. something was wrong.

"Representing Hogwarts...Cedric Diggory!" The announcer shouted, cheers and chants emerging from the stands, including you. You saw Cedric, smiling at him. He made eye contact with you, smiling and winking. You blushed.

You walked quickly down your row of the stands, excusing yourself when you would accidentally bump into someone. As you made your way to the row closest to the field, you caught Cedric's attention and smiled. "Be safe, love!" You shouted to him, grinning as he gave you a thumbs up and giggling.

The announcer gave the competitors the go. The competitors enter the maze, running with determined looks on their faces. As soon as they entered the maze, you couldn't see any of them anymore.

Harry and Cedric had just came back, seemingly teleporting onto the field. Everyone cheered, seeing as they both had came back. You, however, were in the closest row to the field. So you were one of the first to see. You could feel the color draining from your face, tears already rolling down your cheeks and blurring your eyesight. You pushed past the people in your row and the man guarding the exit to the field, running onto the field and kneeling down beside Harry and gasping, suddenly feeling like you couldn't breathe. You were now sat down on the left of Harry, in front of Cedric's pale body. From the stands you has seen Harry's teary eyes and now kneeled down right by him, you could see how red and irritated his eyes were. You looked at his scar that was usually covered by his hair, seeing how red and bruised it looked around it. Harry looked up to the stands, tears still in his eyes and all over his cheeks. "Stop cheering! Don't you see him!" He shouted at them, looking back to Cedric then making eye contact with you and muffling his cries with his hand.

You looked down before you, seeing your boyfriends now lifeless body right in front of you. You punched the grass beside his body, feeling your hands become bruised and cut by the hardened soil that rooted the grass to the ground. "He broke my fucking promise, Harry. He broke the promise..." You look up at Harry, his face seemingly morphed as you could barely see him, or anything for that matter, with your teary eyes. "What promise?" Harry asked, his voice seemingly as shaky as yours. "I made him promise last night that- that he wouldn't get too hurt..." You were shaking, hugging Cedric's pale and ice cold body. You looked at his eyes, the ones that were always filled with brightness and joy and happiness and love. The eyes that he looked at you with, seemingly always looking at you differently than everyone else. The eyes were now dark, not holding any memories or joy of love in them anymore. Everything around you was too much. You continued to shake and cry, hugging his body and running your hand through his hair. You held his hand, hoping to find the heat you would always find when holding his hand through the halls of the castle, always bringing you warmth even on your coldest days. It wasn't there anymore. That warmth was now filled with an inhuman cold that seemed to never end. Harry looked at you, hugging you as you cry into his shoulder.

"He's dead..." You whispered to Harry, your voice shaky and broken.

Suddenly, someone was pulling you away. You slapped and punched at their hands, using your nails to claw at them, trying to rip their grip off of you and go back to Cedric, wanting to see that warm pink color rise back to his cheeks where it always was. You kicked at the persons legs, "Let me go! Let me fucking go, you dick! That's my boyfriend!" You said through a shaking and cracky voice, a bit of snot running down from your nose. Looking up, you see Harry being pulled away by Dumbledore. You knew you looked like a mess but you didn't care. He was dead. And you knew you wouldn't ever see him again. Hold his hand again, kiss him, hug him, cuddle him, talk to him, eat breakfast with him, study with him. He broke his promise, and all you could do was cry about it.

part two?

#cedric diggory x reader #goblet of fire #angst #harry potter #cedric diggory #fem reader #fluff #fluff to angst #sad ending

[honey-dew-woo]

One Admiral's Daughter | Rooster x Kazansky! Reader

Heyo! Sorry for not posting for awhile, life is so busy! Anyway, hope you enjoy, Series #2!

Masterlist | Chapter Two

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

Cold beer, hot men. That was the two things I'd use to describe the Hard Deck. The bar owned by my non-blood-related Aunt Penny Benjamin had become a safe space for me over the years. Making it through Top Gun Academy with some of the biggest jerks I had met in my life and my former lifelong bestfriend , Bradley Bradshaw, the Hard Deck became a home to me. Sure, a testosterone filled, alcohol infused, and noisy home. But a home nonetheless.

And it was at this safe haven that I had chosen to brighten up my night at. The past few months had been hard, with my father's health deteriorating every single day. I had put in a form request to be re-stationed, to be an instructor's assistant at Top Gun, so that I could be close to home. Now, I had been 'officially' re-called to Top Gun for some mission they told me they'd tell me about later.

"Hey, Blizzard. It's good to see you." A woman's voice broke me from my thoughts, as I turned to my left to see Natasha 'Phoenix' Trace fill the empty seat beside me.

I smiled at her, and watched her order a beer from Penny. "It's good to see you too, how have you been?" I asked, smiling as Penny handed us both beers and I nodded in thanks.

Phoenix paused before answering, making a thinking face as she sipped her beer, speaking as the glass met the polished wood of the bar. "I've been okay. Really I'm just excited to hear what the hell this mission is. If they re-called me, Hangman, Payback and Fanboy, and you? There's definitely something up." She spoke, looking at me before nodding her head towards where the former men were. "Come play with us." She urged, before standing up and grabbing my hand to drag me with her.

"I was gonna come anyway!" I laughed, following the black haired girl through the busy bar.

After making it to the pool table, I mentally groaned as I noticed Hangman look up at from where he leaned over the pool table. "I thought they wanted the best pilots," he paused, before sinking a red ball into a pocket and standing up, "not the dangerous ones?" He smirked, staring at me.

I smirked, crossing my arms before responding to him. "You're just mad because I beat your ass in dogfighting ten times over." Queue a scoff from the cocky blond male, accompanied with an eyeroll.

I could vaguely hear Phoenix calling someone else over to our possé as Hangman responded. "You did a maneuver that was absolute bullshit, and against the rules!" He pointed at me, widening his eyes to emphasize his point.

My smirk didn't falter, resting on my face proudly. "No one cares about the rules in war, Hangman." I grinned, "And if you do," I leaned closer, placing a hand on his chest to steady myself as I stood on my tippy toes to reach my mouth to his ear, "You're dead." I finished, pulling back and patting him on the chest in his shocked look.

I could only laugh and he shook his head, no longer smiling before returning to his game of pool. I turned my head to see who Phoenix had brought over, before taking a shaky step back.

"Bradshaw."  Both Hangman and I spoke, and I turned to blond man to realize his smirk was back on his face.

"As I live and breathe." he teased, as I moved my gaze back to the friend I hadn't seen in so long.

He kept his focus on Hangman, who went back to his game of pool. "Hangman," he acknowledged, as the blond male lined up his cue stick for a shot, "you look good."

Hangman paused for a moment before responding, "Well, I am good Rooster," he then shot the ball into it's pocket and finally looked up at the brunet male, smirking, "I'm very good." He winked, before slowly rounding the table, "In fact, I am too good to be true." He finished, hand on his hip and the other clasping his cue stick.

Bradley rolled his eyes in retaliation, Phoenix shaking her head alongside him. Rooster then turned to me, nodding and a smile placed on his face despite Hangman's 'goodness'. "How are you, Blizzard?"

I placed my hands on my hips before responding, "I'm mighty fine Rooster, how about yourself?" I smirked, picking up my beer from the small table that I stood next  to, taking a sip.

The man could only smirk back before speaking, "They way I hear it, you're more than fine, Lieutenant Commander Kazansky." His eyebrows raised, acknowledging my latest rank-up.

My friends who hadn't heard of the news turned their heads towards me in shock and awe. "Don't spoil all my surprises now, Bradshaw." I smirked, glancing around before patting Bradley on the shoulder. "You'll leave me with nothing left." I spoke more seriously.

"Lieutenant Commander?" Phoenix asked, nudging me with her elbow as Bradley excused himself from the group. I had a sneaking suspicion as he waltzed towards the jukebox that he wasn't going to chose a song from the machine. 

I turned to my fellow female pilot, beaming a bright smile before responding. "I'm a Top Gun Assistant Instructor. I have more confirmed dogfighting kills than anyone else at the Academy." I boasted, taking pride in myself as Hangman scoffed, still at the pool table.

"Please, Blizzard. We both know I'm the better pilot." He grinned up from where he leaned against the table.

My eyes narrowed as my smirk could only grow wider. I opened my mouth to respond, running my tongue along the bottom of my top row of teeth before responding, "Let's not start a fight you can't win, Seresin. Not in here at least." I spoke, raising my eyebrows briefly before lowering them back down in challenge.

Unfortunately before I could hear his witting respond the jukebox cut out and the piano keys started. "I believe that's my cue." I smiled, and then Penny rang the bell prompting an 'overboard!' chant. 

I smiled to myself, walking past the piano and patting Bradley on the shirt, who looked up at me, mocking taking off his hat as I walked by. "See ya later, Bradshaw!" I smiled, walking out of the bar.

"After while, Blizzard!" I heard him call out, a wide grin taking it's form on my face as I made my way to my car, shaking my head.

#bradley bradshaw x kazansky reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x mitchell!reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #rooster x reader #rooster x kazansky reader #ice man #ice man kazansky #ice #top gun #top #gun #maverick #topgunmaverick

[solaarbeeam]

ANIME GUYS WITH A TALL READER

MULTIFANDOM | FT. RENSUKE (BLLK), MIYA TWINS (HQ), KIRISHIMA & SERO (MHA)

(since this is technically a request from atlas, this'll be race non-specified, i'll make another version with black reader <3)

(this may ft. a part 2 with mostly bllk men so pspspsp atlas)

RENSUKE KUNIGAMI | BLLK

somebody please help this man bc how come he just doesn't care

this man really don't give a shit, he likes to be picked up like a fucking koala

even in the timeskip, even when y'all grew in height, he still managed to not give a fuck

niggas be teasing him for it too

"hey listen, if i get babied, i get babied" - rensule kunigami 2023

an overall sweetheart someone please take care of him for me pls

ask this man to be your step-stool he will do so

you often have to bend down to kiss him, which he doesn't mind, except for the fact that he has to get on his tippy toes to reach you even when you bend down

i'd like to mention that your like- aspen type height

all in all, we love this man

THE MIYA TWINS

LORD HELP THESE 2 ABSOLUTE LOSERS

but fr reality pls go and help them

they saw you for the first time and said "damn, thats a huge bitch"

now in atsumu's case

he's an absolute bitch about it

he acts like he hates it like the loser he is but he actually loves it

timeskip wise, even when y'all BOTH grew, he still happened to be smaller than you

and yk what that means

THE WHOLE MSBY TEAM BITCHES HIM ABT IT

"damn your s/o is taller than you? couldn't be me." - kiyoomi sakusa 2023

even meian got on it

he secretly loves it though, since let's be honest, the guy is the older twin, so he had to harbor responsibility for a lot of things as a kid and didn't have someone to quite literally lean on and pick him up when he needed it

you were safe to him

although you gotta admit, the comments did eventually get to you eventually

there was this lil tiktok goin around about you and your height for a while

had people defending you and people hating you

atsumu hadn't seen the thing since his P.R. team and Meian had literally banned this nigga from his phone so he had no idea what had happened

you were slouching and kneeling down, and atsumu noticed

lord behold the story he seen when he got his phone back

the way he literally went on live, with you in the background, driving around, and went off on the internet

this man was on instagram live callin everyone a hoe, whore, everything in the fucking book, you name it, he said it.

he loves you and your height, don't forget it

NOW, OSAMU

he's always been a "fomo" type person, so he really never gave a fuck

he just wants someone to cuddle him, bear hug him, and koala hug him after a long day

and lets be honest, he's into tall people

he really couldn't give a fuck

sunarin, atsumu, people like to make fun of him for it. as he is literally inbetween your thighs, resting, and scrolling on his phone in complete comfort as they do it

his fomo is real, and he loves you and thats all that matters to him

KIRISHIMA & SERO

LETS GET IT

kirishima is not for toxic masculinity and all that jazz

this man was raised by 2 moms, cmon now he was taught everything, and one thing he was taught by his second mom, was that tall people were always the best option

and goddamn is he thankful that his mama told him that

I MEAN LOOK AT YOU

YOU'RE TALL ENOUGH IT LOOKS LIKE YOU COULD BENCH PRESS HIM

and he finds it hot

piggyback rides 25/8, he likes to get them or will get on your shoulders and ride around if possible

he'll also give you massages

yes, the bakusquad makes fun of him for it, but last time he checked bakugou was 5'8 so there's no way he's talking

someone help this man he's infatuated with you existence

even as a prohero, this man is gonna brag abt you all day and all night

NOW SERO

similar situation with osamu, fomo is real, this man dont give a fuck

he'd rather you just sling him over your shoulder instead of walking everywhere

he even comes into class with him on your shoulder and just stays like that for the rest of the lesson, yes aizawa is tired but he dont care

as long and you can cuddle him and deal with his daddy issues + attachment issues, he had no problem with you being several inches taller than him

if you love him, you love him, and thats all that matters to him <3

copyrighted ayojordanstopscreaming 2023.

#[ bandana ! ] #kunigami rensuke #rensuke kunigami x reader #tall reader #atsumu miya x reader #miya atsumu x reader #osamu miya x reader #miya osamu x reader #kirishima eijirou x reader #hanta sero x reader

[sapphire-heart-tippy]

Day 12: Taking a warm and relaxing bubble bath after a long day.

Vanilla, Tippy, and Bel all walk through the front door after a very tedious day of running errands. 

“Ugh, I need a drink.” Bel wrings out his hair from the rain. Vanilla does the same and sets aside his broken umbrella,

“Me too, babe.”

Tippy shakes his hair and body like a dog that just got out of the bath. Vanilla puts his hands up in a vain attempt to shield himself from getting even more soaked. Tippy’s hair puffs up into tight curls that cover his eyes,

“Much like my middle school wardrobe, I have ripped genes.” Tippy blows his curly bangs out of his eyes, only for them to fall back into his eyes.

“I think you look cute with curly hair, Tip-” Bel is interrupted by a wet sock being flung into xis face. Bel takes the sock of xis face and pouts, “No need to be so cranky about it, hmph.” 

Vanilla sighs and steps into the kitchen,

“Alright, you two. While I’m getting the wine and cookies ready, you both draw us a nice bubble bath.”

“Don’t have to ask me twice, Vans!” Tippy says, messing with one of his curls.

“I’ll get the face masks!” Bel claps their hands. The other two head into the bathroom, where they have a normal shower, and a very large hot tub-like bath tub. Tippy turns on the hot water, Bel opens the drawers looking for which face care masks to use,

“Hmmm… volcanic rock activated charcoal deep cleanse black head destroyer clay face mask? Or holographic double sprinkle sparkle bubbling rainbow unicorn peel off mask? OR should we go with the classic aloe vera vitamin C vitamin D vitamin A collagen plus leave-on all night face mask?”

“Yes!” Tippy isn’t paying attention to what Bel is saying. He sprinkles in some little bath rocks, pours some calming lavender bubble bath into the tub. Bel purses their lips,

“Alright, I guess we’ll just have to use whichever… I’ll be the one to have the honor of wearing the unicorn one, of course. Because I deserve it!”

"Can I have the blue one?" Tippy points to the volcanic clay mask jar.

"I'm not sure it's going to be blue, considering it's activated charcoal, babe." Bel scoffs. They open up the jar and… it's a bright blue clay inside!

"Haha! Told you so!" Tippy sticks out his tongue. Bel takes a glob of the clay mask and starts rubbing it on Tippy's face,

"Yeah yeah, enjoy."

Vanilla walks in holding a tray of treats,

"How are my handsome boys doing? Are you both behaving in here?" Bel and Tippy both nod. Vanilla chuckles and starts taking off his clothes. Bel and Tippy do the same.

Vanilla steps into the bathtub and happily sighs,

"Aahhh… wait." As Bel and Tippy get in the bath at the same time, the water level rises and spills bubbles and water all over the floor. "Wait wait! Let me drain it-... first." Vanilla pouts as his partners lay in the large bathtub together with him. Tippy and Bel both have face care masks on, which amuses Vanilla. Vanilla puts one on himself. After a while, they all take off their skin care masks and decide to just play and lounge in the nice hot bubble bath together.

Vanilla watches Tippy play with the bubbles and listen to Bel talk about some juicy gossip xe overhead. Tippy places some bubbles on Bel's head and laughs. Bel giggles and makes Tippy's hair into a bubble mohawk. Vanilla smiles at the two, completely enamored with them. He leans over and kisses Tippy on the lips, then kisses Bel,

"What the heck would I do without you two?"

"Probably, like… cry." Bel teases him.

"Oh yeah, Vans. You'd cry!" Tippy laughs. He moves over to Vanilla and holds onto him,

"Well… I'd cry if I didn't have you either."

Bel does the same and puts their arm around Vanilla,

"Yeah… I'd shed a tear here and there maybe." 

Vanilla wraps his arms around his two partners,

"I love you guys so much."

"I love you too, Vans!" Tippy nuzzles up against Vanilla's shoulder.

"I love you too, Nilla!" Bel kisses Vanilla's cheek. Bel and Tippy hold hands as Vanilla has both of his arms around them. They all sigh and enjoy each other's company and the relaxing bubble bath.

The End

#we look so weird without all that eyeliner aaaugghh!! #safeshiptember #safeship #selfship #self ship #beltipvans #selfship fanfic #bel jjba oc #jjba self insert #jjba self ship #self ship fanfiction #poly ship #safeshiptember 2023 #sapphire heartverse #sugar crash void bash