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steddieas-shegoes · 1 year

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A little thing based on this post because it wouldn’t leave my brain:

“I just don’t understand why you won’t try to read it.”

Steve had heard Dustin say this exact sentence hundreds of times at this point.

“I mean, do you know how to read?”

Mike was an asshole. Steve loved him because he was part of the group and he’d been through the same things, but he was such a dick.

“Yes, I know how to read. I just don’t.”

Dustin rolled his eyes.

“If you don’t wanna read nerd shit just say so.”

Steve threw his arms up in frustration.

Steve was a nerd at heart. As a child, he would beg the nanny to take him to the library and the science museum that had real dinosaur fossils. There was something about the peace of exiting his reality and finding a new one among fantasy and history that was indescribable, even to this day.

But as he grew into his looks, he grew out of that phase. At least around others.

And with no nanny around to take him places, he settled for just being the popular guy who hung out with his friends after practice and threw parties at his forever empty house on Saturdays.

But secretly, he still found himself enjoying books late into the night. Never school books, or his grades would’ve been good enough for college, but always incredible novels that took him to other worlds with the most impressively brave people.

And then he lived a nightmare. A few times over. With concussions at every turn.

Now, anytime he tried to read, his head started pounding, his vision got blurry, and ears would start ringing. He stopped trying altogether after Starcourt, but he’d never really let go his love of books.

He occasionally let Robin read to him, but she would get distracted by a plot or character and go on a tangent, leaving Steve confused about what the actual story was. He hated being confused.

“Stevie, you got a minute?”

Eddie had been watching from his spot at the end of the table, where he’d been cleaning up the mess of D&D. He usually made the kids do it, but he’d let them off the hook tonight when they beat the monster and escaped his trap.

Steve and Eddie were friends, definitely. Maybe not close ones, but friends.

Steve had a little crush, definitely. Or a big one. Maybe.

So when Eddie shows him attention, he somewhat shamefully receives it like he’s dying of thirst in a desert.

Robin is the only one who’s noticed so far, but if he keeps acting like a dog being called by his master anytime Eddie talks to him, someone else will comment on it.

“Yeah, what’s up?” Steve asked as he made his way to Eddie.

The kids took this time to talk amongst themselves about the game and what they think will happen next week, and Steve couldn’t have been more grateful.

“You don’t have to tell me, but.” Eddie was tapping his fingers nervously against his leg. “Do you not know how to read?”

“Uh. No I do. I mean I graduated high school. I know it’s hard to believe.”

“Not judging if you can’t, man. I mean, I took three senior years. I’m the last person who can judge.”

“Yeah, but you’re smart. You just didn’t like school,” Steve replied with a pat to his shoulder.

Eddie glanced down at the contact, eyebrow raising and then falling back to normal quickly.

“Just seems like you’d have read something by now to get them off your ass.”

And that’s a really good point. Maybe he should’ve just suffered through a migraine so they’d leave him alone about it.

But migraines left him out for days sometimes, and he couldn’t exactly afford that right now.

“I guess it’s just not worth the migraine.”

He hadn’t meant to actually say it. He didn’t want Eddie to feel bad or for him to try to make him feel better about it or ask questions or talk about the concussion thing.

Actually, did he even know about the concussion thing? Things?

“You get migraines when you try to read?” Then realization hit Eddie hard. “Steve. Do you like reading?”

Something about the way Eddie was looking at him, like he was sad for him but not pitying him, made Steve want to cry.

“I used to, yeah.”

“Everyone out! Your parents are gonna have to come get you! No questions, no explanations, go!” Eddie yelled to the room.

Everyone stared blankly at him before they started protesting, Dustin loudest of all.

“Steve’s my ride!”

“Not anymore. Hitch a ride with Lucas.”

“But Lucas’ mom always squeezes my cheeks and tells me she hopes I never lose my baby fat.”

“She speaks for all of us. Get the hell out of here!”

Steve was actually impressed. Maybe a little turned on? God, he was a disaster.

As everyone cleared out of the room, Eddie patted the seat next to him. When Steve sat down, Eddie scooted his chair so close to him, his knees were touching Steve’s.

“Alright, so you’re gonna tell me about what books you like and what books you want to read and we’re gonna get started.”

Steve blinked at him. “Huh?”

“You have a list I’m sure.”

“Yeah, but…”

“Okay, then we better get started.”

“I mean, I’ve tried. I appreciate it, but even focusing on one page makes my eyes burn and my head hurt.”

“Got that. I’m not asking you to read.”

Sometimes Steve was worried the concussions had actually knocked some screws loose. He wasn’t getting it.

“I’m gonna read to you, Stevie.”

“You don’t have to do that. I’m sure a lot of them will be movies and I can just watch them.”

“It’s not the same. You know it’s not.”

He was right. Steve didn’t have much patience for movies. And sometimes even those gave him migraines if there were a lot of bright lights and explosions.

“Yeah. But still. You don’t have to do that. You might not even like the books.”

“Ah, this isn’t a completely free service, my liege.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I don’t have extra money to pay you, dude.”

“Not money. I get to pick a book to read to you when we finish the first book you pick.”

“Is it The Hobbit?”

“It is,” Eddie looked so smug.

“Well, that was my first choice,” Steve stared back, equally as smug.

“So, your house is empty.”

“Yep.”

“And I’m assuming you own this book.”

“I do.”

“And it’s getting late.”

Steve looked out the window at the pitch black skies.

“It’s late.”

“So I could stay and read you to sleep.”

“Won’t I miss some of the book?”

“I’ll stop when you’re asleep.”

Steve’s heart was practically begging him to say yes. Eddie reading to him in his bed? Possibly falling asleep together? Maybe even waking up together? It couldn’t be a better proposition. Well. It could.

“Will you stay even if I fall asleep?”

Eddie smirked. “If that’s what you want, sweetheart.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d called Steve that, but it was the first time it felt like he meant it in a non-teasing way.

“Okay.”

So they both changed into some of Steve’s comfy clothes, got into his bed, and Eddie started reading The Hobbit.

Just as he was during D&D and real life, Eddie was animated, providing different voices for different characters and often giving long pauses to let Steve soak in what the words meant.

Steve didn’t even have to ask him to do that. He just did.

Steve fell asleep somewhere between halfway and the end of chapter two, but Eddie stayed.

And they woke up the next day with Steve’s head resting on Eddie’s chest, Eddie’s arms wrapped around him to keep him as close as possible.

They finished the The Hobbit in a week, and because Eddie was now committed to making sure Steve was well-read, they started moving through his list rapidly, falling for each other in new ways every time Eddie turned a page.

Part 2 (Angst) / Part 2 (Fluffy) / Part 2 (Explicit)

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #tumblr drabbles #ao3fic #headcanon #secret nerd Steve Harrington

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doki-doki-imagines · 5 months

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author note: fic written a long time ago, but that is really fitting now. Hope you'll enjoy reading it!💫

“Michael is inside the locker room, you should see him.” Noa’s voice is firm, as always, even after such a big defeat, for him, it’s just like finishing a chapter, ready to start the new one, not many afterthoughts to ruin his next steps.

Michael Kaiser, your boyfriend can’t deal with defeat as well.

You enter the empty room, only your boyfriend is in, sitting in his sweat-drenched uniform, a towel covering his face.

You take uneasy steps toward his figure, he doesn’t even look up, too absorbed in his own world.

“Michael, I’m here, can you look at me?” You sit next to him, the bench creaks under your weight, you pinch the corner of the towel trying to lift it up, to finally see Michael’s face.

Your hand gets slapped away.

“Don’t even try it.” Some time ago this crude and cold voice would have swollen your eyes with tears, you would have been able to hear just the crippling hate in his voice.

Now you can hear the sad undertone and how the hate isn’t for you, but only for himself.

“What do you want to look at-“ he stands up abruptly, the bench recoil, the towel falls on the ground “At this failure! At this poor excuse of a player, walking trash-“ Michael can’t finish his phrase, broken sobs interrupt.

His blue eyes are bloodshot, the red of his makeup staining his face, sticky with dried tears. Michael is trembling, you don’t know if for sadness or anger, he is hitting his chest with his left fist, while the right hand is pinching his neck, the skin is broken, some drop of blood on his roses tattoo.

“Michael stop-“ You try to walk near your boyfriend, but he pushes you away and crouch on himself hands now covering his face

“No! You can’t understand, you don’t want to understand! This is all my life, I’m nothing- I shouldn’t even live if-“

“Michael!” You shout, finally stepping closer “Don’t you dare finish that phrase.”

It wasn’t the first time Michael got depressed after a match, but this is a peak he never reached before and it indescribably broke your heart.

He finally looks up, new tears forming in his deep blue eyes, you gently hold his cheeks with your hands, and lift his face up so you could look at him straight in the eyes.

“Your value as a person doesn’t depend on a match, no wait let me reformulate. Your value doesn’t depend on football. And don’t you dare-“ This time you are the one letting out a sigh “to say that you shouldn’t live anymore, because I can’t imagine a life without you.”

You kiss his forehead just before hugging him tight against your body, your right hand caressing his head.

Michael doesn’t reply back, he just keeps sobbing and crying on your shoulder.

“Please Michael stop crying, but I promise, losing this match won’t be your end, there will be a ton of other occasions, please Michael believe me.” You coo at him.

“O-Ok” His body still trembles under you.

“Can you look at me when you say that?” You say softly before kissing the top of his head.

He lift up from your shoulder and nod, a wobbly smile appearing on his face, his breath still being broken by sobs.

You smooch his forehead again, this time the contact last longer and he closes his eyes in relaxation, finally the sobs and sighs are slowing down and he is regaining control of his body.

“Can I kiss you even if I look like a mess?”

A small laugh escapes your lips but you nod.

“I find you handsome-“ “you look like a wet kitty, love it.” You wanted to say, but his mouth catch yours before you can finish.

His chapped lips find yours. It’s a slow dance, made of broken breaths bound by a strong love. Your right hand drying away those fresh tears, your thumb moving slow circles on his sticky cheeks, the left one finds peace in the back of his neck, scratching his little hair knowing full well he loves it.

He is way more restless, the right hand that was holding your arm to keep you as close as possible to his body find soon his way to your waist, fingers moving up and down pressing and releasing your waist like a piano key hoping to generate a new sound at every broken breath. His left one is kept firmly in the back of your head, pushing your face impossibly close to his, nose bumping, eyelashes caressing each other faces.

It’s when you feel the familiar feeling of something wet in your mouth that your mind return to reality.

“Michael, ehi-“ You put both your hands on his chest gently pushing on his pecs “I think you should take a shower.”

He looks at you with his wide blue eyes and tilts his head clearly looking at you like you just said the dumbest thing on Earth.

“Are you saying I stink?”

This time it isn’t small laughter that leaves your lips, but one of those that shakes your entire body and that makes Michael look at you with even wider eyes.

“Yes a little, but that wasn’t my main point. I think you need to take a hot shower, relax and come home with me and watch a film that neither of us is gonna finish because we’ll both fall asleep the second I press play.”

The blonde seems to think about it a little before nodding, walking towards the locker room’s showers stripping at every step for the joy of your eyes, till he disappears around the corner the sound of running water filling the room.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna join me?” Just his head pop out from behind the wall, water already dripping down his face and hair, a particular droplet following the line of his veins down his neck, skin shiny and inviting-

“Go finish your shower, there will be better times.” You see his head bending down, probably preparing his better kitty eyes to convince you “At home we’ll have all the time of this world for example.”

Michael never finished a shower so fast.

#bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk imagines #blue lock imagines #michael keaton #michael kaiser x reader #bllk x you #blue lock x you #bllk x y/n

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slugchild · 2 years

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#feeling very full of dichotomies at the moment #things are simultaneously so very good and just so indescribably awful #feeling very loved and lucky and really quite happy #but also like such an inconvenience. a burden even #and im so very lonely and so very very sad #and i’m not sure what i can do about it right now? i don’t want to spiral again so i’ll try not to dwell too long #i’ll delete this soon i just need it said but don’t want to bother anyone and don’t want to risk my notebook after what happened last night #notes section

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agirlwhodreamsandwishes · 1 month

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Night in Velaris

Azriel x Reader

Summary: While going for the first time to a ball in Velaris, you met Azriel, with whom you feel an instant connection.

a/n. Hi! My second fanfic is here, it’s exciting :)! I would really appreciate if you tell me if you liked and your opinions about it! I hope I don't dissapoint anyone! Any advice would be appreciated. And please, remember English is not my first language.

Word count: 1k

Velaris was the most beautiful city you’ve ever seen. You wonder why in your five hundred years this was the first time you saw it, but then you remember how your family treated you, never allowing you to pursue your dream of traveling all Prythian. When you could, you left your family house and started visiting as many places as you could. That’s why you were now in that city on the Night Court, and you couldn't stop looking at everything around you. It was astonishing. You met some people there and they were all very nice to you; you felt really comfortable there. Almost like you could stay there for your whole life, you think.

“Hey, Y/N! Why don’t you go with us tonight?” The girls you’d met earlier were talking about a ball hosted by the High Lord and the High Lady. They were really nice and you were comfortable around them, so you thought about saying yes.

“I’d love to go, but what am I gonna wear? I don’t have any fancy dresses with me! Also… I’m not from this Court… are you sure it wouldn’t be a problem?” You started feeling sad because you already pictured how beautiful it had to be. The place, the dresses… you already had all in your mind.

“Leave the dress to us! And no, no problem. You’re in Velaris now, you have to come! Please?” You laughed and decided to go. You trusted them and you wanted to experience a ball here!

Everything was better than you could imagine. The dress? The most beautiful dress you had ever seen. The place? Magnificent. And the atmosphere? Indescribable. Your friends had helped you get ready for the ball, and you all had an amazing time doing it. You’ll miss this place and those girls when you leave, you thought to yourself. You almost want to cry at the thought. It’s the first time you get so attached to a place and to the people you’ve met.

The music started, you started dancing with your friends, having the most fun you’ve ever had. Suddenly you feel someone staring at you, but you didn’t know who it was. The night continued with you having fun and feeling that stare on you all the time.

You needed a rest, too much dancing! You saw a free chair and you sat there, hoping for a little rest. You started looking around, looking at the people dancing and having fun. That’s when you saw him. The most beautiful man you’ve ever seen, sitting in the opposite corner of the place, looking at you. You stand up, realizing it was him the one looking at you all night. You feel like you have to talk to him, so that’s what you do.

“Hi, I’m Y/N.” You smiled as you talked to him. He stared at you, like if he couldn’t talk. After what felt like an eternity, he answered. “Hi, Y/N, I’m Azriel.” You didn’t know who he was, having in mind the fact that you weren’t from that Court. He smiled, and you thought you were dead. It was the most beautiful sight you’ve ever seen, you could look at him for as long as the Mother wanted.

You two started talking about everything and anything, your friends and dancing quickly forgotten. The conversation flew like you knew each other forever. He told you about his family, his two brothers and their mates. You told him about your family and how you decided it was time to grow apart. You shared interests with him, and it seemed you had a lot in common. The night was almost finishing, but you didn’t want to leave, you didn’t want to get away from Azriel.

You saw your friends waving at you, a signal that they were leaving. “So… I should go… Those are my friends and I came here with them.” “Oh, I see…” He looked almost… sad, like if he didn’t want you to leave. And you felt the same. You looked at him as if it was the last time that you were going to see him before saying goodbye and turned around, ready to leave with your friends.

“Wait!” You turned around and saw him staring at you, nervous, like if he didn’t know how to tell you something. “I… I would like to see you again. If you want, of course.” He was blushing, avoiding your gaze, fearing the rejection. He wanted to see you again. He wanted to see you again!!! “Yes!! I mean, yeah, sure.” It was your time to blush. He chuckled and looked at you, with hope in his eyes.

“So… I’ll pick you up tomorrow at 6pm? Is that okay?” You were surprised. Did he really want to see you that soon? You smiled and nodded, telling him where you were staying. You looked at him, again, not wanting to leave. You looked back at your friends, who were looking at you, shocked that you were talking to the Shadowsinger himself.

“Well… goodbye, Azriel!” You kissed his cheek and ran away to your friends before he could say or do something. He couldn’t believe what just happened, but he wasn’t going to complain. In fact, he would replay that innocent kiss again and again in his mind until he saw you again. Azriel thought he couldn’t erase your beautiful face from his mind even if he was tortured.

When you arrive at your friends, blushing and giggling, they keep staring at you with eyes wide open. “What?” You start worrying; you don’t understand anything. “Was he one of your exes? Is he a bad person? Girls, what’s going on?!”

“Y/N, you really don’t know who he is?” One of them asks, and you try to think if you remember him from somewhere. “No?” You even question yourself.

They look at each other, shocked, and then start to laugh. “Y/N, he is Azriel, the Shadowsinger of the Night Court. The high’s lord brother.” You opened your eyes. “You’re joking, right? Oh my god! I probably embarrassed myself! Oh my god, oh my god, OH MY GOD!” You were definitely panicking. You looked back to where he was only to discover he was looking at you too and smiling. That instantly calmed you.

“Girls, I have a date tomorrow”. You definitely didn’t plan to leave that Court in the nearest future.

#azriel fluff #azriel #acotar #azriel x reader #azriel x you

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iwillneverforgiveyousunghanbin · 2 months

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bully⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

friday, kim taerae— select choir

⋆˙⟡ zbully1 smut series masterlist! hanbin, jiwoong, hao, matthew, and taerae included. game day (group) chapter here. all 7 endings here.

⋆˙⟡ wc: 2.7k

⋆˙⟡ reader: just one gn!reader version for this (no pronouns are used at all to describe reader; reader is describe as having a "pretty" mouth but no gendered or femme language)

⋆˙⟡ series summary: five bullies. six days. it's gonna be a hell of a week, babe. stay hydrated.

⋆˙⟡ friday summary: it's the end of the most bizarre week of your life. last year, you would've been overjoyed to spend time in select choir with your friend kim taerae. but that all went down the drain after hanbin recruited him into his group of incessant jerks... and he's desperate to officially be one of the guys.

⋆˙⟡ warnings: explicit smut. 18+. minors do not interact. please read specific smut warnings under the cut! swearing. angst. slight dub-con. bullying. the lore for taerae is so SAD. i'll make sure his ending is happy, i promise. also we've got a ft. hanbin chapter but just in digital form.

⋆˙⟡ bully scale: ★★★★★ (5.0)

(idk the bully scale is subjective but like imagine your best friend saying this shit about you WHY IS HE DOING THAT OMG jk i know why and soon you will too)

EXPLICIT SMUT 18+ WARNINGS: oral, (taerae receiving), throat fucking (reader receiving), brief handjob and heavy petting (taerae receiving), cumming without warning in mouth, filming of sexual act, voyeur!hanbin, slight dubcon but like for both of them kind of idk you'll see but it's slight, bullying, the usual.

friday.

you should be elated that this week is nearly over. and you are. mostly, anyway.

but there was an indescribable thrill to all this that you couldn’t seem to shake. all that talk of ravens yesterday had got you thinking...

why did you dislike ravens in the first place?

thinking. crying. haphazardly finishing all of your assignments due friday that you’d procrastinated the whole week. urgent texts to and from mina after her ✨jiwoong oppa✨ stood her up for their date.

one thing was for certain: you desperately need sleep.

that’s why you’re currently falling asleep sitting up, hard-back music folder open in your hands as professor yoo works with the bass section. the lowest notes of “requiem” are soft and soothing and, for you at this sleep-deprived moment, very dangerous.

luckily a sharp elbow to the shoulder jolts the drowsiness right out of you.

you look to your left to find kim taerae giving you one of the most judgmental glares you’ve ever earned in your life.

you would expect nothing less from him.

at one time a judgmental glare from taerae was the equivalent of a hug. you returned the gesture happily. and also threw in some hugs whenever he’d let you. he squirmed a bit, but the big smile that would grow on his face made it all worth it.

but there’s no warmth behind his eyes now. just a sharp elbow pointed at you, threatening to strike again if you didn’t shape up quick enough.

“you’re gonna get yourself in trouble,” he warns with a frown.

you roll your eyes. “why do you care?”

“because, unfortunately, some people still think we’re friends,” he says, making thin lines with his pencil on a page of his sheet music. “and i don’t want to suffer the social consequences of your embarrassing actions.”

“mm,” you agree wordlessly. “guess i should’ve thought of that myself.”

he doesn’t respond for a few moments, eyes focused on his sheet music until an audible sigh comes from his direction. “why are you so tired anyway? s’not like you.”

“for all you know, it could be,” you retort with a huff. “maybe i’m a real night owl now. maybe i’m out partying or smoking or... something.”

taerae snorts. “jiwoong hyung was not lying about those tragic acting skills.”

“oh, fuck off,” you reply.

his eyes widen. and then promptly squint with suspicion. “since when did you swear like that?”

you frown, trying to discern what he could mean. hadn’t you always been this uninhibited with your tongue?

the answer was no. you hadn’t. and this new speech pattern of yours had a very specific origin: monday afternoon. you exhale a chuckle. maybe you had yet to realize the full extent of how this week has changed you.

and how your desire to change back continues to dwindle.

you just shrug, returning your focus to your music. you feel taerae’s eyes on you as you track your vocal section’s part in “requiem”.

you and taerae had purposefully chosen seats next to each other in choir last year so that you could goof off together during every possible free moment. it was also convenient for your parents, who always wanted to get pictures of you two together during concerts ever since high school.

now you wish you went to different universities altogether.

ironically, you might’ve had a better chance of remaining friends if you’d had distance. but you and taerae disagreed quite adamantly at the time.

halfway through your two-hour rehearsal, you’re allowed a fifteen minute break to grab water and stretch your legs. you always wander off down the empty storage hallway, where your favorite vending machine is hidden in plain sight— the one with the oreos and cheez-its and bugles in it.

pulling out your debit card, you insert the chip into the machine and punch in the number for the snack of your choosing. you watch happily as it falls down from it’s spiral prison into the dispenser below. you start to bend down when a hand reaches in before you and grabs your snack.

“hey, what the—…” you trail off as you come face to face with a cavernous dimple. “give it back. now.”

“you’re so touchy today,” taerae condemns with a click of his tongue. he holds your snack high above his head, dangling it in a challenge. “seriously, what’s gotten into you this week?”

“oh, you know exactly what,” you huff, reaching for the snack in vain.

taerae laughs. “i guess a better question would be: what hasn’t gotten into you this week?”

“you’re so fucking funny,” you snap, fingers finally closing around the wrapper as you yank it down.

taerae’s brow is raised in surprise, not really caring about the repossession of the snack. “seriously, i’m not used to you swearing like that. i’m not sure if i like it.”

“i assumed there was nothing you liked about me anymore,” you retort, tearing open your snack and shoveling the processed glory down your throat.

“that’s not true,” he replies, hand suddenly reaching to your face. he brushes his thumb across your bottom lip, a crumb transferring from you to him. he brings his thumb to his own lips and tastes it. “i still like your pretty mouth.”

when you finally manage to pick your jaw up off the ground, you shake your head. “i know you don’t think of me like that.”

“uh...” taerae mumbles awkwardly, glancing at the row of shelves behind you. “sure, i do.”

“oh yeah? how about mina’s pool party two years ago? when we—.”

“OH, actually you—,” he interjects urgently, glaring at you to shut up. normally you would. but after this week, you no longer feel bound to quiet compliance. “you don’t need to—.”

“—were playing spin the bottle and it landed on me and you threw up in the pool because you were so disgusted by the mere thought of kissing me—”

his lips crash onto yours, hand cupping your cheek. it’s a demanding, yet tentative kiss and you’re even more confused when it ends.

you take a step backward, folding your arms across your chest.

“can you just—...” taerae grabs your arm and pulls you closer to him, glancing again at the row of shelves behind you. “yes, that’s perfect.”

“what’s perfect?” you ask with a frown, starting to grow immune to strange behavior after the week you’ve had.

“oh, um.... you,” taerae answers after a moment with a smirk. “you were always so perfect, (y/n). perfect grades. perfect manners. perfect body. i used to jump at the chance to sleep over when your mom would let me. you used to beg her until she finally said yes, because she knew you'd never misbehave. remember, honey?"

eyes wide at the dark shift in his tone, you nod slowly.

“you were so innocent... you slept shirtless, for fuck's sake. peacefully dreaming, while i pretended to be asleep on the floor,” he continues, brushing his thumb across your cheek. “hoping i wouldn't wake you up if i just lifted the covers to get a peek."

when you thought the worst of your pain this week was over…

“tae,” you breathe, eyes watering— pleading for this not to be true. it couldn’t be. at least... not in the vulgar way he was describing it. "you don't mean that."

at the sound of your despair, there's a momentary flash in his eyes. regret. you still know him like the back of your hand.

“why are you doing this?” you ask, hands flying to cup either side of his face. he flinches, trying his best not to look you in the eye again. trying not to let you see. “you don’t have to be my friend anymore if you really don’t want to. but i don’t know why you want to be like them when you’re miles better than they’ll ever—.”

“alright, that’s enough.”

the muffled, tinny voice comes out of nowhere. you look around your immediate surroundings, trying to discern where it came from.

“c’mon, you were doing so well,” the voice rings again. “you said you had this under control, bud. was i wrong to put my trust in you?”

“no, hyung,” taerae answers, shaking his head. “i—… i can do it.”

“hanbinnie?” you ask and then cough awkwardly to cover up the fact you just called your arch nemesis so affectionately. yesterday must’ve gotten to you more than you know. “i mean, hanbin-ah! what the actual hell is going on?”

“no need to worry about it, sweetheart,” hanbin’s voice dismisses again. taerae’s eyes dart towards the shelves behind you once more. you follow his gaze— jaw dropping when you see two camera lenses staring back at you.

“what—...” you fumble, shaking your head in disbelief as you look at the back of taerae’s phone— propped up with a black music folder. “you’re recording this!?”

“afraid so,” hanbin answers for taerae. “i didn’t really think he could follow through without some supervision. don’t mind me though. unless you just can’t help yourself...”

while at the beginning of this week a situation as perverted and bizarre as this would’ve had your whole nervous system shutting down, you’re still standing tall. present in this strange moment. you smirk.

“aw, tae,” you coo mockingly, turning to your former friend. “how sentimental of you...”

a brow arches in confusion back at you. “what are you––?”

“of course you’d wanna capture such a special moment on camera,” you continue with a patronizing nod. “it’s not every day that you lose your virginity.”

“HEY THAT’S—…” taerae starts to yell at you for sharing this embarrassing personal detail that you’re sure he never disclosed to hanbin. “that’s… that’s not true.”

“oh come on, it’s nothing to be ashamed of,” you twist the metaphorical knife as hanbin stifles a laugh. “i’d be happy to help you out with that, since i was the one who had to listen to you whine for four years about how you were still. a. fucking—”

two fingers are down your throat in an instant. you gag, trying to step backwards, but taerae’s hand finds the back of your head— holding you in place. he removes his fingers slowly, pupils dilating when you whimper in fear.

“i’ve decided i don’t like the swearing,” he says, a sickening hint of sweetness in his tone. any upperhand you had is now gone as he traces your lips with his thumb. “such a pretty mouth. those filthy words shouldn’t be coming out of it.”

“y-you don’t get to decide that,” you stammer unconvincingly.

“so that’s what you really want, then?” he asks, sticking his thumb further into your mouth. you suck obediently. “you wanna have a filthy mouth?”

you nod, his thumb still pressed against your tongue— cheeks hollowed out as taerae bites his lip hungrily.

“then you can have it,” he says before removing his thumb from your mouth and pressing down on your neck and shoulder— forcing you to your knees in front of him. you guess joining the soccer team had really improved his strength. “just remember it’s what you said you wanted.”

taerae unbuttons his jeans, pulling the zipper down. he freezes, clearly unsure of what to do next. maybe this is your opportunity to wiggle your way out of this. if only your curiosity wasn’t equally as strong.

“we––... i have to audition after this,” you protest weakly. “when break’s over, i have to audition for the solo i’ve been prepping for so i want to keep my voice warm right now and—.”

“ah, that’s right. i did forget about that,” he affirms, looking up at the ceiling in thought before smirking back down at you. “but i think i can help keep it pretty warm, actually.”

your attempt to level with taerae only seems to encourage him as he pulls down his jeans and boxer-briefs. you inhale sharply as his hard cock comes to eye-level, so close you can really examine it. though it’s slightly smaller than hanbin’s, it’s thicker and you need to know immediately how it feels in your hand.

“whoah, you—,” taerae stumbles, eyes wide as you take him eagerly in your hand. he stares at you, lips parted as you start to pump him. “holy shit.”

“you’re sure you wanna do this?” you ask, pausing your motion to make eye contact with him. you can tell he doesn’t want you to stop, but there’s conflict lingering there that he just can’t seem to hide.

taerae clears his throat, shaking his head as he resumes his tough guy act. eyes cold once more, he shrugs. “a hole’s a hole.”

after a year of judgmental berating from your former best friend, it was almost comforting to know that he was capable of being even meaner than he already was. it meant that, for whatever reason, he usually didn’t want to be any meaner to you.

he takes both of your hands in one of his, keeping you from using them as his other hand finds the back of your neck again— guiding your face towards his cock. taerae doesn’t need to give much guidance though. you’re aching to get a taste and the way your lips sink down around him nearly knocks the wind out of him.

back pressed against the side of the vending machine, his thumb presses into your cheek— feeling himself inside of your pretty mouth. you swirl your tongue around his tip, causing him to moan softly.

there’s a little bit of rustling coming from where taerae’s phone is propped up on the shelf. you wonder if hanbin’s enjoying this. if he’s touching himself— wishing he was throat deep in you instead.

“c’mon, bud. is (y/n) running this show or are you?” hanbin asks, tone laden with frustration.

“i—... i am,” taerae asserts, grip tightening across the back of your neck.

he starts to thrust gently into your mouth, an action that you’re not so familiar with. it rattles you a bit— loss of control after feeling like you were gaining it back.

“this is what you asked for, baby,” he reminds you, shallow thrusts starting to venture a bit deeper. “remember? you said you wanted a filthy mouth. so i’m gonna make a mess of it.”

you find the right rhythm to breathe through the thrusts. the tip of his cock is dangerously close to entering your throat, sending another wave of anxiety through you. but it’s not for long.

your eyes meet taerae’s and, though he’s the one putting you in that danger, you suddenly feel very safe. you let out a sigh, the vibration causing him to mewl. he scratches at your neck affectionately, putting pressure against it to feel himself inside you as he fucks your throat.

“see, keeping that throat nice and warm,” taerae coos as his breathing gets heavier— and his moaning gets louder. “take me so well, i—.”

“shut the fuck up, dude,” hanbin scolds, his own breath growing labored. “do you wanna get caught before you can win the—?”

before hanbin can finish his thought, you feel a warm, sticky liquid begin to pour down your throat. you pull off of taerae, sputtering and coughing as you try to swallow it down. wiping your mouth, you look up at taerae who is looking at you like he wants to dive straight into the han river and never return.

“for fucks sake, are you actually a virgin or something?” hanbin asks angrily. “is that really all you can last for? and, jesus, you’ve gotta warn someone before you do that.”

your throat is starting to burn and you’d love to be able to say something, anything, but the rasp that comes out isn’t pleasant-feeling. you rub at your throat with your now-free hands as taerae’s expression just turns more horrified.

“did i... did i hurt you? fuck, i didn’t mean to—,” taerae starts to babble uselessly until hanbin claps loudly.

“good work, team!” he says as he finishes his round of applause. “mvp definitely goes to me, for coming up with this idea in the first place. i’ll see the campus activities secretary at the big game tomorrow, right?”

“mm,” is all you can croak out. you wish it sounded angrier.

“and i’ll see you at practice tonight, man. i—,” hanbin cuts himself off with a confused look. “wait, where did he go?”

you face forward, expecting to see taerae standing next to the vending machine but... hanbin’s right. he’s vanished.

“that kid’s a piece of work,” hanbin says, shaking his head. “you think he’d be more grateful after i took him under my wing and made him popular. i even got him a spot on the soccer team after a lot of private coaching. i mean, he’s benched for life, but still!”

you’re a saint among men, is what you wish you could say. instead, you just roll your eyes.

“just take his phone and give it back to him in class, will you?” hanbin asks as you stand up and make your way toward the shelves. “and drink some hot tea for that throat, okay? throw some honey in it and you’ll be good as new for tomorrow, i promise.”

you sigh. and you nod. and you pick up taerae’s phone and end the video call.

and you go back to choir and sit in your black music chair and wait for taerae to come back, but he doesn’t. and when it’s time to audition for the solo you’ve been preparing for, you stay seated and quiet.

seated and quiet.

like you’ve been for so long.

and when practice ends and the choir room is empty and you remain seated and quiet in your black music chair and tears begin to well up in your eyes, you don’t cry.

you smile.

you stand up.

you shout (briefly, so as not to disturb anyone in neighboring classrooms).

at some point or another, you forgot how to do these things. or you were made to feel like you couldn’t or shouldn’t.

but that’s who you really are.

who you were always meant to be.

not a juliet. not a violin. not a goalie. not a bird. not a pretty mouth.

you.

you pick up your bag off the floor (and taerae’s) and throw them both over your shoulder, making a beeline toward the door.

absolutely, hanbinnie, you think. you’ll see me at the big game.

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elcpsstuff · 6 months

Text

S!ut! // Conrad Fisher

“I might as well be drunk in love”

a/n: I’m so obsessed with 1989 TV it’s not even funny and this song is my anthem. Please use * when saying the name because I don’t want my content to get banned ‼️ also when the text turns bold it switches to yns pov!!

warnings: toxic complex conrad, swearing, drinking, yn is a mess + delusional, small smut? if u squint :0

i’m sorry in advance..

—

You didn’t plan for this to happen.

You and your family have lived with the Fishers every single summer. Steven was the oldest and Belly was the youngest. Meaning, you fell right in the middle.

For years, you had wanted Conrad. Steven and Jeremiah always made fun of you but Belly never did because she had a thing for the youngest fisher, Jeremiah.

How could you not? He was so young, and a true peice of art. You had always been the hopeless romantic of the family, Belly falling not to far behind. It was safe to say you got love sick way to quick.

And with Conrad, well, that was dangerous.

It was one of the first nights of summer, and you had decided to take a solo swim. You gathered all your things and then made your way outside and over to the pool.

You didn’t notice him at first. In fact, you dove in and let the cool water heal your body. When you rose to the surface, that’s when you saw him. A joint in his hand, and a small smirk on his face.

Your heartbeat accelerated, “Stalking me?”

He chuckled, “I’ve been out here longer if I’m correct.” His voice was teasing, and he was testing the waters. Maybe you could too.

“So, seriously? Smoking?”

Conrad rolled his eyes, “Don’t scold me like everybody else is. I don’t need a second mom.”

“Just quit, Conrad.”

He looked you in the eyes and then smirked, “What will you give me if I do?”

Your face went red. You felt your cheeks burn.

Slowly, you said, “What do you want?”

It was funny. In this aquamarine swimming pool that was filled with lights, all you ever really needed was him.

—

It had been a week since you and Conrad kissed. After responding to him oh so temptingly, he couldn’t help it. He kissed you right then and there. (He jumped in the pool, first.)

Conrad didn’t know what to feel. Deep down he always knew he had some sort of feelings for you. He was shit at showing it though, but now you were in for the long run.

You were love sick. All over his bed.

Sex with Conrad Fisher was one of the best things to ever happen to you. He made you feel like a different person completely. He could be so sweet yet so, different in bed? It was indescribable.

You groaned against the pillow, digging your nails into his back, leaving tiny little scratch marks. In response he groaned and moaned into your neck. You cracked a smile.

“You alright, Fisher?” You teased.

“I’ll be asking you that soon.” He looked up at you, lips red and plump and eyes wild. He began to nip and leave marks all over your neck, and you had never felt more alive.

Sex with him showed a whole new vulnerability. He would kiss you and worship every inch of your body. How could anybody be so perfect?

It was getting harder to hide. Each time you two went at it, he left marks that were as obvious as handprints on wet cement. One time, Jeremiah even caught wind of it.

“What’s that on your neck?” He had asked one morning.

You mentally cursed yourself. You thought you had concealed most of these marks with makeup, but it seems Conrad’s love for you was harder to hide each time.

“I— um… chin burn?” You lie.

Jeremiah didn’t believe it, but he laughed anyways. “Alright, sure.”

It just became worse from there. You became lovelorn and sex with him felt like thorns. Instead of cuddling you after, he would leave you wobbling walking back to your room. It was like you were a toy, and he was getting bored of you.

Most nights you cried after. You felt used and sad. You truly thought Conrad had felt what you felt for him all these years, but maybe he was just bored. And wanted an easy grab.

Still, you found yourself in his bedroom almost every night. He would make you promises in the bed to ensure you kept coming, but nothing ever amounted to the lies he fed you.

Blindly, you were still in love with him. So you kept this a secret from everybody you loved. You didn’t want anybody, especially Belly to worry.

You’d pay the price, so he won’t.

—

You had dressed up nice for this party. Just in case Conrad wanted to slip away from the crowds and have a good time with you.

Belly and Jeremiah had become very suspicious at this point. Those two were open about their new relationship all summer, and a little part of you felt jealous. You wished Conrad wouldn’t keep you like a secret.

“Are you okay?” Belly asks, handing you a beer to which you accept.

You nod, “Yeah, yeah. I’m good.” It was a lie. You were far from good at all. You wanted to cry and break down into your sisters arms. She was your younger sister and yet she was more stable than you at the moment.

Belly said some other things, but you were too distracted by Conrad signaling you to come up the stairs. Finally, the moment you were waiting for. You shouldn’t have been, but you simply couldn’t resist him.

As soon as you walked into the room Conrad was ripping your clothes off. You knew it was wrong, and that if anybody knew they’d probably call you that word. A sl*t.

But you know, in this moment. It might be worth it for once?

You were drunk off your ass, but nothing felt better than the art Conrad was perfecting on you. In moments like these, you almost believed it was all real. He traced your curves so calmly, and you swore you saw the light.

Conrad kissed your cheeks, and then your lips. He worked his way down to the area you so desperately wanted. He looked up at you with a smirk.

“You’re beautiful like this.”

His eyes told a story, one you were so foolish to believe.

Yes, you were drunk. But you were drunk in love.

—

It’s was the day of the deb ball.

Somehow, you had convinced Conrad to come with you. Apart of you was giddy, hopeful, but things still remained the same. Conrad kept you his little secret and it pained you when he sent you to your room crying at night. You still took all this pain for him.

When they called your name, Conrad was there to escort you. He smiled at you, that beautiful smile only Conrad fisher had. Laurel and Susannah were both in tears from you and Belly.

When you curtsied for them, Conrad linked his arm with yours, and whispered, “Beautiful, as always.”

You couldn’t help but smile. No matter what, out of all the boys, he remained a gentleman.

When it came time for the escort dance, Conrad danced with you, and it all seemed so real, so genuine. Summer was ending, but maybe this didn’t have to. Maybe this could be the start of something.

When the danced ended, something changed in his face. It was like the color drained from his face.

“Con, are you—”

“Outside. We need to talk.” Before you could object he was grabbing you and pulling you away from the center of the room. Belly mouthed something to you that you couldn’t decipher.

Once you got outside Conrad paced around and then looked you in the eyes. Oh fuck.

You began to shake your head, “Don’t say it.”

“yn—”

Tears brimmed at your eyes. You couldn’t believe this.

“Is this a joke to you? My feelings? I fucking gave myself to you and now your just gonna make me forget?”

He paused, “I needed to forget about my shit and you—”

“Screw you!” You pointed your hands at him and tears streamed down your face. He looked broken, for you. He probably didn’t give a shit. Maybe he cared somewhere in his cold heart, but not enough.

Conrad inched closer to you, “I— I’m sorry.. It’s all so so complicated okay? You were there. I care about you, you know that. That night in the pool was just the wrong place but the right time.”

Those words stung, because they were true. Did you mean nothing? If it was anybody else, would he have done the same?

the wrong place but the right time.

I started to break down, falling to the bench next to me. I was sobbing, because I felt disgusting. Like an idiot.

I would never do this. This wasn’t who I was. I wouldn’t continue to give myself to someone who truly didn’t want me. I would have walked away. I knew what I was, and I was raised better than this.

Still, looking at him was hard. Because I still loved him. It was supposed to be me and him from day one. The two oldest kids, everyone saw it.

I felt his arms wrap around me and I hated it. He’s pulling me in like the nice gentleman he was.

I pushed him off me and he stumbled back a little.

“Just get away from me!” He went to speak, but I put my hand out to stop him. With a big sigh, he slowly walked away from me and back into the ballroom. His eyes were red, I saw them.

Within minutes Belly was running out to find me. When she saw me, she ran up to me and sat down next to me on the bench. The look she gave me, it was too hard. She knew it in her heart, me and Conrad.

“Yn? What’s going on?”

I didn’t say anything, and then I was sobbing in her arms. She held me like there was no tomorrow, and even though I was soaking her dress, it didn’t matter. Not to her. She knew what I was going through and I didn’t have to say it.

To say what I was, that was harsh. I wasn’t like this always, I was just twisted by the sick and harsh lies the man I claimed I had felt true love with gave me.

I thought if I was called it, it would be worth it for once. If i was drunk, I was drunk in love.

But was it? Was it worth it?

—

Like i said.. i’m sorry in advance :0

let me know if you guys have any more requests!! :)

Listen to the song that inspired this fanfic here ->

#the summer i turned pretty #conrad fisher #jeremiah fisher #team conrad #belly conklin #conrad x reader #team jeremiah #tsitp #love #summer love #conrad fisher fic #conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher fanfic #Spotify

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sswiftiestars · 6 months

Text

seductions—chapter one

gf! sam monroe x fem!reader

tws/cws: mentions of murder, angsty, mentions of ED and self harm, vomiting, manipulation, swearing, y/n isnt used i think, petnames, kinda sexual at the end, non-con kinda but not really

summary: When you find out one of your best friends was murdered by the neighborhood serial killer, you head to school sad. Struggling to stay sane, you end up experiencing something unexpected.

You sob into your pillow as you read the local newspaper, reading; WEDNESDAY 5/07/03: WESTON HIGH SCHOOL TEEN NAMED MARY LOUISE FOUND DEAD AT 17, KILLED IN HER OWN HOME AFTER A MYSTERIOUS PHONE CALL.

it showed a picture of her, making everything 10x worse. she was your best friend, and there she was, dead and buried. you continued to sob into your pillow when you realized you had to get to school. how would you be able to survive after this? you sniffle a few times and put on a pink cardigan with a mini skirt, thigh highs and some cute sneakers. Sadly, you put on your backpack (which was baby pink, obviously) and head out the door without eating.

once you arrive to school, you don’t put any effort into talking to anyone, and you make your way to the auditorium, where a assembly will be taken place on..recent events. you sit down at a empty area when after a few minutes, someone taps your shoulder from the seat behind you. you turn around and see Sam, one of your closest friends.

“are you okay, angel? you ignored me when i tried to come up to you earlier.” he says sadly, giving you a soft pout of disappointment. You shrug, visibly less energetic then usual. “m’ fine, sam. it’s just..” you start, tears threatening to leave your eyes, “you know.” you say, looking away from him. sam sighs and climbs over and sits in the seat next to you, ignoring that he just accidentally kicked someone in the leg. “listen, angel.” sam coos, grasping his hand at your chin and turns your head to look at him directly, “I’m sorry about what happened to mary, but..eveything happens for a reason, right?” he says, trying to comfort you, but ending up sounding slightly sadistic.

you squint your eyes at him, about to speak when the principal talks into the microphone at the auditorium stage, peaking you and sam’s attention. “Good morning, everyone.” he starts, his voice echoing through the room. “i would just like to take a moment and..talk about recent events.” he says. you already know he’ll be talking about mary, corey, and some of the other students who have been lost. you don’t want to hear about it anymore, it just adds on to the indescribable feeling in your chest.

Sam somehow senses you discomfort, and reaches over to hold your hand, carressing your palm with his thumb. you blush slightly. “Mary was a great friend to all of you.” the principal says solemnly, “she will not be forgotten.” behind you, you hear two of the jocks, logan and aiden, snickering. you turn your head around and glare at them, and sam does the same. something about sam’s stare at them was..unsettling. the two jocks immediately stopped laughing, sam’s unsettling stare scaring the shit out of them, to say the least.

sam will definitely be remembering them, for later.

The principal continues talking about mary, and then sam leans over to whisper to you, “i’ll be right back, sunshine. stay here f’ me.” you nod in response and watch as he walks out of the auditorium. assuming he’s just going to the bathroom, you continue listening to the principals speech about mary and corey. the more he talks, the more sad you get, and the more angry you get at the person who killed them so brutally. After a while, you notice that sam is still gone. a pit in your stomach starts to form, as you start to get extremely anxious. Carefully, you stand up and walk out of the auditorium. you make your way to the girls bathroom. You walk into a stall and lock the door. Suddenly, a wave of nausea waves over you. “when was the last time i ate?” you think to yourself. your thoughts are cut short when you suddenly bend over the toilet and vomit, you really should’ve ate breakfast. after a couple minutes of..intense sickness, you flush the toilet and walk out of the stall. You try not to cry as you walk to the sink, and wash your hands and wash your face, hoping to make yourself feel better. as you raise your head, you see something in the mirror behind you.

a hooded figure in a mask.

you ignore it at first, thinking you might be hallucinating from all of the pills you’ve been taking. But that’s when you hear a metal sound from behind you. You turn around instantly, water still dripping from your face and hands.

He…or she..or they, wave at you, knife in hand. you instinctively run towards the door and try to open it.

of course it’s fucking closed.

“fuck.” you say under your breath and turn back around, and the masked figure..doesn’t run towards you? he walks closer to you as you stand there, paralyzed in fear. before you know it, he pins you against the cold wall of the bathroom, and whispers in your ear, “stay quiet or you’ll end up like your good friend mary.” you gasp, trying to recognize his voice, but his voice is awfully distorted. fuck, is he using a voice changer?

you nod. he runs his gloved hand down your body until he reaches underneath your skirt. You feel your underwear dampen, and you curse yourself silently for that. the masked stranger cups your core through your panties, eliciting a soft whimper from your throat. He pulls his hand away, a smirk underneath his mask that you wish you could see are glad you can’t see. he walks out of the bathroom after that, leaving you confused and still aroused.

did the neighborhood serial killer just touch my pussy?you think to yourself and let out a slight cackle, even though it’s not that funny. unable to leave your position, you stand there, wondering what to do. you’re definitely traumatized for sure—but at least it felt good. after what seemed like forever, you walk back to the auditorium and sit down next to sam and let out a sigh. at least he’s okay.

“hey, what took you so long?” sam smirks and nudges you playfully. you shrug, “i felt sick, it’s nothing really.”

“Good thing you’re still alive, i was worried that someone snuck in there.” he jokes, although his tone is a bit sinister. you laugh it off nervously, and listen to the principals incredibly long speech for the next hour.

in that hour, you find yourself thinking about what happened, something inside of you wishing the masked stranger did more with you. You brushed off the thought, sighing to yourself.

maybe someday you’ll lose your virginity, and today was almost the day.

tags: @g4sstationdr-gs , ask if u wanna b added!

#Spotify #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker smut #anakin x reader #hayden christensen #star wars smut #anakin smut #sam monroe x reader #sam monroe x y/n #sam monroe #ghostface sam

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strangelysamantha · 1 year

Text

scars ☆

jj maybank x fem!reader.

warnings: abuse, bruises, the nickname baby is used, talk of sadness and depression and not being happy with life.

words: 1,088.

summary: jj comes to you after a blow out with his father. you clean his bruises as well as clean his awful mindset he has on life.

request? no.

a/n: hi. i’m back from the dead hello. i got a lot of stories planned.

my masterlist

——————————————————————————

you hear light taps from your window. you lift from your bed to crack it open. you weren’t expecting to see jj today. he climbs in and immediately settles onto your bed. he flops down dramatically and you can’t help but giggle from the theatrics. “hi jj” you coo softly. “hi baby” his response is quiet. your room is lit by a small lamp, you can’t even make out jjs features so you close the window, and intend to turn the light on. jj grabs your arm however, and you halt.

“can you just lay with me for a second?” his tone tings at your heart and you can tell something is wrong. “yea, of course jj. anything.” you hop into the bed, and immediately cradle at his side. he’s laying on his back. “do you want me to sit on top, or do you want to spoon?” you question. he hesitated. “you can cuddle me however you’d like baby. i’ll enjoy it all the same.” you nod. his mood seemed off, as well as his tone. you didn’t want to rush into it and upset him, but you did want to get to the bottom of it. you choose to spoon him, this moment feeling intimate and full of love. you place your hand on his heart; it beating rapidly.

you cup his face, you feel tears as well as a slight pulse in his eye. you stand up quickly, running to the light switch. when you turn around, his face is bloody and bruised. your heart sinks and you feel a pain that’s so indescribable but completely deadly. your lips are flat lined and a huge range of emotions release. you shake your head, a tear already threatening to spill. he’s silent, and avoids eye contact. you’ve been here before, never this bad. nonetheless, you have a routine.

you go to your bathroom. you grab the first aid kit, wet a cloth, and grab everything you need to stitch him up. you walk back and sit on the bed, your back to the wall. he, like a hurt puppy, follows every instruction you give. “come here jj, let me help you.” he hates when you see him like this, but he doesn’t have anyone else who would do what you do. if he did go to anyone else, he wouldn’t feel great forcing his trauma on others. “what happened baby? who hurt you?” your words are soft and you want nothing more than to cradle him and take his sorrows away.

“my father. who would have guessed? i’ll be alright. i’ll walk it off.” you investigate his wrist for any damage, you don’t see any, so you give it a flick. “no that’s not how it works jj, and you know it.” he frowns, “i wish it was.” you give him reassuring rubs on his back. he’s sitting up, and facing you. his hands rest on your knees, and he anxiously rubbing them. “i know baby, i wish these moments didn’t impact us, but they do. and we learn to take it in, and let it go.” you dab the wash cloth on his face, to get the dried blood. “did you walk here?” you question. “more like ran.”

you sigh, you reach for his tank top, urging to pull it off. he complies easily letting you swipe it off his back. his chest isn’t bad, mainly his face that held a black eye and cuts, from his fathers ring. “how you feeling?” you continue the routine of fixing him up. you’ve gotten good at it. he hums, before starting. “you say you always want me to be honest?” you nod, “yes. i want you to be fully honest with me.”

“well. honestly? i’m not doing great. i don’t want to put this all on you but i just, i don’t know why i’m here?” you question him, “why you’re here?” he continues, “why am i forced to live dealing with an abusive father, being broke, having everyone against me?” he breathes deeply, his emotions overcoming him, “no matter what i do, i loose.” you hate seeing him like this. “jj, please. i love you so much. and i don’t want to loose you. i know it’s hard. it’s so heartbreaking to see you in this condition. physically, mentally, it does damage. i can’t ever know what it’s like to be in your shoes.” you pull him into a hug and he squeezes you tight.

“please.. stay strong for me. i need you to come to me if you ever feel this way. talk about it, write it, scream it, all of the above. i want you to have an outlet to let these emotions out so they don’t consume you.” he pulls you in for a passionate kiss filled with love. tears are streaming down both yours, and jjs face. you struggle to suppress the whimpers coming from you. “can you promise you’ll come to me if you ever feel that way?” he nods, “i promise.” you close your eyes and lean your head into his chest. “i love you so much. seeing you like this hurts. but i’d rather see you like this, then never see you at all.” those words hurt him, gave him the realization that if anything happened to him, it would hurt you worse. this thought clouded his mind. his wounds were all patched up. you went downstairs to get a few ice bags. you came up and positioned them on his bruises. you turned the big light on and retreated to the small lamp. he thanked you for the ice bags, and you turned your tv on.

“your choice for tv, what would you like to watch?” you question. he thinks for a second before softly reaching for the remote and turning his show on. you cuddle him close, occasionally kissing his neck and whispering how much you love and appreciate him. not even half way through the episode do you hear tiny snores coming from him. you laugh slightly to yourself; pausing the show. you get ready for bed, despite his condition, you know you’re going to sleep well, and comfortably. you remove the ice bags, dumping them in the sink, and placing the plastic baggies on the counter. you dry your hands and return to the bed with him, engulfing the two of you with a blanket. you smoothly cuddle against him, sure to not wake him, up, as you prepare to dream soundly next to him.

#jj maybank outer banks #jj maybank #outer banks #outer banks fanfic #outer banks imagines #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fanfic #jj maybank x reader angst #jj maybank x you #jj maybank story #jj maybank angst #jj maybank imagine

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yakultstan · 1 month

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What advice would you give someone who is writing poetry

Hey! I definitely have a lot to still learn myself as I'm quite new to my attempt at poetry (so I’d love to hear everyone else’s opinion/writing process in the comments) but since you're asking here's my take (sorry in advance if you just wanted a one-line answer..I’m not so good with that)..

In my opinion, poetry is all about provoking emotion..making you feel something..therefore “good” poetry is subjective due to the way individuals experience life and emotions differently.. In most cases (especially writing for fun/self-expression), it’s not something that needs to be technically correct (imo) like an academic essay, rather it just needs to make you feel something, so here are my tips/step-by-step process at this current time

Write for yourself AKA make sure that you like(love even) what you have written.. don’t write with other people’s interpretation/perception in mind (as “good” is subjective and you’ll never be able to settle on anything). You’ll feel much more motivated to write if you are encapsulating your own experience as accurately as you can (it feels productive to turn your pain into something more tangible).. Write the thing that you wish someone else had written that makes you think “damn.. that is so me” if you’re able to do that I’d call it a success. (My fav pieces still make me feel something each time I read them and make me feel glad I wrote them, as noone else had). I say this because we are all human at the end of the day if you’re feeling it, there’s likely going to be another human out there who is grateful that you have so accurately been able to translate a generally indescribable feeling into words.

To be able to do the above (make yourself & others “feel”) I’d start by reaching as far down into your emotions as possible.. Everyone knows about surface-level happiness, sadness etc. but what is it more specifically that you are thinking and feeling.. or what is something that you think you might feel or do if you were to become totally unhinged.. Imo poetry isn't the place to downplay your emotions or soften your language - say the things noone wants to say, the things that are “wrong” to say, don’t hold back, allow yourself to be violent, angry, sad, toxic, or pessimistic in your writing, even if you’re an optimistic/cheerful/kindhearted person irl (people are often SHOOK regarding the strikingly different persona I portray in real life vs my writing..we are all multifaceted creatures at the end of the day).

Now you might be wondering how to put the above into actual poetry..a lot of people will just “find the words” because they are talented like that, but for the rest of us.. Controversial (whilst beneficial)I don’t think an advanced vocabulary is necessary to write impactful poetry (my vocab is shit & has barely developed since I was 10 years old cause I stupidly stopped reading books until only a couple years ago).. So instead what I personally do is I write out in as much detail but in simple language, how I am feeling/what I want to portray..like you’re trying to express something in your diary or a text message you’ll never send… At first, this is going to look like a 10yro has written it and that’s so fine because you want a clear understanding of what you’re trying to portray in your piece.. now all your related thoughts are out, attempt to rewrite it in a way that is slightly more comprehensible (usually I’ll write it in notes app so I can still have the original versions to refer back to to make sure I am encapsulating what I originally wanted) and basically rewrite a couple times until it appears more refined

Then, your original wording might be perfect as is (I would say always go with your gut feeling) but the thesaurus and dictionary are your best friend!(bless google) If a certain word kind of “ruins the vibe” of the piece and it no longer feels “poetic” just google synonyms for that word, you can even search “synonym poetic” for further options. Don’t just use any synonym though.. If you’re undecided between a couple words I would highly recommend googling the specific definition of each word and compare, because usually definitions will have a very nuanced difference and that nuance can make all the difference in being able to accurately portray your point.

Have fun with the spacing, the lines the layout, the use of grammar (idk the terminology).. utilise these things to transform everyday sentences into an art form! Don’t get caught up in the right or wrong!

Now reread, you want that poetic rhythm of some kind, a state of flow.. Read in your head, then read out loud then read with your own experience in mind, then detach your mind from your own experience and read from an external point of view if you wish! Reading out loud will help you see if it’s readable (duh) and the wording problems, whether that be needing to change word or remove a word or add a word will likely fix themselves! I personally would focus more on emotional impact than aesthetic but ideally a bit of both is great!

This seems like an in-depth process but all this usually occurs within about 5-10 minutes per poem cause I don’t have the attention span to spend any longer on it (maybe oneday I’ll actually refine my work properly lol but for now it’s just my form of therapy). You’ve got this! <3

Other random things I’ve learned

-Keep a log of specific words, phrases, sentences, ideas etc. even if not at all refined in your notes app on phone as you randomly think of them so you can potentially come back to it later! (If you don’t you’ll likely forget and never think of it again lol)

-Sometimes the most simple thought/concept to us (based on the fact it has circled in our brains for a lifetime so we are bored of it) can be super impactful & significant to others, so just write it anyway

-Go with your gut feeling if you’re tossing up any of your ideas, words, expressions

-Remember that quote “art should comfort the disturbed and disturb the comfortable ” - you’re never doing toooo much

-personally ive had to drop the academic ego and learn to be more than okay with being shit..you’ve gotta just do it and accept most the things you’ll write could be shit but it’ll mean there is opportunity that you write something decent amongst it all.

-DO NOT compare yourself to other people writing poetry cause it can be so disheartening!!!! we are our own worst critics.. just remember we are uniquely ourselves, no one else can write the way we write.

-PRACTICE!!!! But basically just do that by writing as much as you can. I know it’s always said but seriously I started writing daily 4 months ago and whilst I wasn’t actively trying to improve there is a massive difference noticed by myself and others between the quality of what I wrote 4 months ago and now.. It’ll just start to click! I write every day but some days I don’t have it in me to write a poem so I’ll just write a thought or feeling or diary entry for that day to keep the routine plus you can possibly come back to it for poetry inspo.

-fake it til you make it !!!! poetry is expression !!! anything can be poetry if you want it to be :)

-I also read not long ago that writing isn’t something where you peak in your twenties (thank god for me) but rather a lot of writers become successful a lot later in life! So this gives me a lot of hope that things can only improve! Considering I was able to improve in 4 months, imagine 4 years or even 1!!(exciting! I hope I get much better!)

-If you want to know how to be more creative, more metaphorical or a lot more visual with your poetry.. Don’t ask me.. In fact I need tips myself!! I’m going to guess it has something to do with my shitty vocabulary.. I hope that I can challenge myself to improve with this overtime as well, but for now I find it cathartic to just work with my literal thoughts and emotions. Similarly, if you want to know how write about uniquely positive experiences hmu in the future when I’m more healed but maybe not yet lol.

CONGRATS if anyone actually read through all this… you deserve an award! (let me know if anyone actually did and if it was at all helpful) I hope you can find even just a component of this somewhat helpful??!! maybe it was all obvious who knows haha but also please remember I’m not very experienced in writing poetry myself, this is just my attempt at keeping myself sane :) All my love x

Edit: as someone else mentioned.. another great tip is to READ lots of poetry written by others, this will help immensely :)

#poetry advice #writing advice #writeblr #writing tips #spilled ink #poetry #how to write poetry

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mores0 · 5 months

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Shawn told Gus, long before it happened, that he was going to leave. And Gus was probably supportive, because they were both leaving in their own ways, it’s just that Gus wanted to go to college, while Shawn just wanted to- go. And Shawn’s life was kind of falling apart. Like, his parent’s got divorced, his mom left, and then he got arrested, which- yeah. That probably made things between Shawn and Henry go from bad to fucking- explosive, I’d imagine.

And so, that was it, they were both going to leave soon and who knows what after that. And they probably like, made a whole entire list of all the fun stupid things they wanted to together before then.

But then, like, a week later or so, there was someone tapping on Gus’s bedroom window, and it’s like- the middle of the night- so Gus startles awake and is like “oh shit.” And he forces himself to look outside the window anyways- and it’s just Shawn sitting there. And he glanced over at his clock and it was actually like 1:13 in the morning, so he’s half like “what the fuck Shawn?” And half concerned.

So he goes over to his window and opened it up and was like “Shawn, do you know what time it is? Why did you wake me up, what’s wrong?”

At first, Shawn couldn’t get anything out. But then he was just like “I’m leaving.”

And for a second, Gus thought that he was joking, but then he noticed that Shawn had his backpack with him, and his face was just- a mixture of sad, anxious, and desperate. So, yeah, this was for real. He wasn’t ready.

He wanted to say that- tell Shawn how he can’t leave before they finish their list, or he goes off to college, because- he wasn’t ready to let go of his best friend yet.

“But you’re going to get hungry.” Was what he ended up saying instead. Because, deep down, he knew that Shawn needed to leave. Shawn was struggling, has been for a long time, and it was killing him to see, because he’s the only one that does. And if Shawn needed to run off to- find himself or something to be happy again- then he’ll have Shawn’s back, because he wanted his friend to be happy again above all else.

But back to the present, Shawn just kind of shrugged which wasn’t acceptable, was it? So he forced Shawn to get inside, and they both snuck into the kitchen where Gus did his best to pack him a sandwich as well as some juice when he realized that he might get thirsty too, without waking his family up.

And then they were both standing at the door- and this was really it. They might not ever see each other again after this, and the thought made Gus’s eyes well up- but he wasn’t going to cry- was what he kept repeating in his head. But then Shawn pulled him into the tightest hug that anyone’s ever given him, and Shawn’s back was trembling and- fuck- now he might actually cry.

But, by some miracle, he didn’t, and they said their goodbyes, with Shawn promising to send postcards, before leaving. Then Gus went back to his room where he laid face down in bed and just- let everything out.

14 years later, they found the fucking list while looking through Gus’s old stuff, and Shawn was like “Oh, we have to do it.” So they did, and it was some of the most fun that they had, like, ever. Even if they couldn’t do some of the stuff on it because the places just- didn’t exist anymore.

And, once it was getting late and they began to settle down, Shawn started to talk about how back when they were teenagers, Gus was what kept him going, really. Which confused Gus a bit, why he was bringing that up now, but he nodded anyways.

But then Shawn continued, telling him how when he left, he just wanted to- disappear. So doing this- Psych, and everything else now felt like getting a second chance at life, and how- indescribably happy he was that they were. And then Shawn thanked him.

And he cried. And Shawn teased him at first, but a few moments later, he began to tear up too, so. Checkmate.

And that’s when Gus knew that he was going to stay.

_________

Okay, so, I know that this is different from the posts I usually make, but that’s because I’ve been trying to write this as an actual fanfiction for like- the past month, but writers block has been killing me and it just wasn’t turning out, so I decided to just write it on Tumblr as a weird mix between fanfic and rambling, because I just wanted to get it out of my brain. And, it wasn’t as detailed as I wanted it to be, but whatever I guess. Idk if this was any good, but I hope you enjoyed reading anyways, have a great day (:

#shawn spencer #burton guster #burton gus guster #henry spencer #psych #psych tv #🍍#fanfiction

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cupids-archives · 2 months

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Hello! Could you make another yandere macaque?

━━━━━━━━𖥔 yandere! macaque drabble. ! ₊˚♱ ━━━━━ ₊˚♱ contains, nsfw, non/con, death, pnv, mentions of anal, fingering, dark content.

“cmon darling turn around.” macaque moves your head for you to face your boyfriend, the one with his head caved in and dead on the bed, your tears start falling all over again. his fingers curve inside you, his thumb rubbing your clit and your body trapped around his legs. “look, fuck, I love feeling you, feel so good.” His fingers speed up reaching just behind your cervix to hit another sweet spot. your sniffling and pulling away from him at this point, your pussy is puffy and raw and there’s endless tears falling from your eyes.

“cmon kid, don’t be like that, it’s feels good doesn’t it?” you throw your head back over his shoulder, letting out sighs of relief as you cum on his fingers. you instantly feel regret, anger and more importantly sadness, an indescribable anguish in your heart. while your staring at your lover he flips your body over laying you down next to the man you love, and taking off your bra. you can barely fight back physically, just begging him to stop.

“hm and why should I?” he chuckles at your scared expression laughing as if he didn’t just kill the love of your life. “I’m saving my virginity for the man I love!” you scream using the last of your energy. your body is in so much pain both mental and physical, but if you can just hold onto this maybe you’ll be okay. “wait. him? the man I just killed?” tears fall even harder, anger rising in your chest but you know you won’t be able to win that fight.

“If you really don’t love me, even now that’s he dealt with. I guess I’ll just have to fuck your ass then too. maybe that’ll make you love me.” you cry in response helplessly trying to get away from him. he holds you down under him, easily slipping his dick inside you with a smile. leaning down and kissing your wet lips. “you feel so good, your all mine baby.” macaque lifts your legs up throwing them over his shoulders and thrusting even harder inside you.

“why are you crying?” He asks teasingly, kissing and rubbing your tears away. “your the one who did this to me, you know? shouldn’t have went off and thought any man could touch you like I could” he talks like a jealous husband like you were dating and he wasn’t an obsessed stalker who broke in and raped you and for some reason knows everything about you.

the one who’s already about to cum mumbling praises and how your taking him so well and he’s so happy to be your first. that he’s never loved someone like you. And you’re sure you can hear whimpers in his voice . you lie there dejecting listening to his rambles, your body hurts, and the only thing you can feel right now is the radiance of anger and frustration that you let the man who killed your best friend, your lover, your everything deflower you and make you cum.

#cupid 🪽 ៹ ࣪#₊˚♱ nasty ₊˚♱#₊˚♱ drabbles ₊˚♱#₊˚♱ lego monkie kid ₊˚♱#₊˚♱ macaque ₊˚♱#lego monkie kid smut #lego monkie kid x reader #lego monkie kid #macuque x reader #macuque smut #lmk macaque

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ctitan98official · 2 months

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Alcina’s long lost child AU: Y/N is an emotionless soldier for B.S.A.A. part 3

Here’s part 3! Read the last part here! An interesting conversation takes place between Y/N and Alcina. Let’s get into it!

“So, tell me all about yourself, little one,” Alcina says gently, leaning forward with great interest to hear what you have to say.

You regard her silently for a moment before you say anything. “Actually, I’m more interested in you at the moment,” You tell her. It’s not a lie, and… You don’t plan on giving her any information unless she does the same first. Besides, she seems like the kind of person who would love to talk about herself. Might as well capitalize on that.

Alcina smirks at your response. You’re smart. Keeping your cards close to your chest? She would do the same in your situation. She decides to humor you. “Well, I was born in this village, however, I’ve travelled all over the world,” She begins. “I used to sing in a jazz band. It was amazing getting to be in a different city every night, but… That was quite a long time ago…” She trails off, remembering just how old she is and internally groaning.

You quirk an eyebrow at this. “What made you come back?” You ask.

Alcina sighs and smiles sadly at you. “Love, I suppose?” She answers. When Miranda found her and promised to heal her from the illness that plagued her all of her life… She was truthfully less motivated by a potential cure and more infatuated with the mysterious blonde. She almost rolls her eyes at how silly and impulsive she had been.

Your eyes narrow at this. You don’t think she’s married, she’s not wearing a ring or anything, but is there someone else living in this castle other than servants? That would certainly be valuable intel. “Are you with this person? Or… Do you live alone?” You ask.

Alcina decides to leave Miranda out of her answer entirely. “I am actually incredibly fortunate. I have three lovely daughters… And one other precious child,” She tells you, indescribable hurt suddenly clouding her eyes.

You’re puzzled by the cryptic tone Alcina’s voice adopts. Why did she look so sad when she mentioned her last child? “So, three daughters. But, does… This other child live here too?” You ask.

Alcina’s eyes sting as she thinks about the baby she had to give up. “I’m afraid not, little one… I… Had to send them away. To protect them from their other parent,” She reveals bitterly.

Your eyes widen just a bit in surprise. That reminds you of… Yourself. While you don’t know much about your biological parents, Umbrella had a ton of information on them. They compiled multiple files when they got their hands on you. Scientists gave you little shreds of insight here and there, but all you know for sure is that you were the product of two powerful bioweapons. Apparently, one of your parents was very dangerous. You don’t know much about the other one, though. You clear your throat awkwardly, trying to stop remembering your past, and look back at Alcina. “It seems like you love your kid a lot. I know firsthand that it sucks to grow up with people who don’t care about you. But, I hope they found a good home, at least,” You offer quietly.

Alcina’s heart clenches at your words. “You didn’t grow up with your own parents, little one?” She asks. It’s awful to know that you had a difficult childhood, but oddly enough, that flicker of hope is starting to reignite within her. There’s still a chance that you’re hers, however small it may be.

You blankly shake your head. “No. I’m… Different. Well, my parents were. I don’t seem to have their… Abilities,” You tell her. “My childhood was basically one big experiment thanks to them.”

A strange feeling settles itself in Alcina’s chest at your statement. “What… Do you mean by abilities, little one?” She asks.

“You… Weren’t always like this, were you?” You ask her, gesturing to her large stature.

“No,” She whispers, silently urging you to continue.

“Well, was there some kind of… Accident? Or… Maybe even a procedure that happened before you changed?” You question.

Alcina nods emphatically. “Yes, exactly, little one. But, where are you going with this?” She asks, feeling her heart rate pick up. Maybe… You really could be…

“My biological parents were like that too. Apparently, one of them was very dangerous. The organization who did all of the experiments on me as a kid thought I might be the same,” You explain. “That’s why they were so interested in me. They wanted to use me as a weapon.”

——————————————————————————

As your conversation with Alcina unfolds, Chris is eating a snack in the kitchen that a maid put together. The atmosphere in the room is rather uncomfortable.

Little maids come in and out to do their work and try to act like they don’t see him… But their curious gazes and hushed whispers to each other give them away.

As much as he wants to be in the room with you and the lady of the castle, Chris knows you can handle yourself.

However, he soon gets a rather disturbing message from B.S.A.A.

“Captain Redfield. This is B.S.A.A. headquarters. Do you copy?” A voice urgently asks over his earpiece.

Chris immediately answers. “Chris Redfield, here. I copy,” He says and stands up to go find a more private place to talk.

“You’re accompanying agent Y/N L/N in Romania, correct?”

Chris feels a knot forming in his stomach at the question. “Yes, I am,” He answers tightly.

“Agent Y/L is an immediate danger to you and Hound Wolf Squad. You all must vacate the area now, Captain,” The voice says gravely.

Chris’s blood runs cold. Where the hell is this coming from? “W-what? I… Y/N just graduated basic training. This is their first mission, there’s no way that-”

“New information about agent L/N’s origins were just discovered after an examination of an old Umbrella site. They have been classified as an extreme threat and you must evacuate. That’s an order, Captain,” The voice commands. “An evac helicopter will be there to extract you in ten minutes. If you are not on board, you will be charged with dereliction of duty. Do you understand?”

Chris can’t even believe what he’s hearing. However, B.S.A.A. have always been strict enforcers. He’ll pretend to go along with orders for now, but only because he needs to get a little more information. Then… Maybe he can save you? Either way, he’s not leaving you all alone. He’ll die before he lets that happen.

“I understand. I’ll be on that helicopter,” He bites out. “But first… What can you tell me about Y/N?”

Note: Uh-oh… Wonder what B.S.S.A. found out about Y/N? XD Hope you enjoyed!

Masterlist

#re8 #re8 village #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu x y/n #lady dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu x y/n #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #resident evil imagines #mother miranda #chris redfield

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