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withahappyrefrain · 9 months

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The 5 Times You Flirted With Bob + The 1 Time He Picked Up on It

Summary: You've fallen for your friend and have decided to drop some hints that you're flirting. Unfortunately, Bob doesn't realize that immediately.

Warnings: Language, no y/n, female reader, reader has a callsign (Honey)

Thank you to @dissonannce for this amazing idea. Thank you @acewritesfics for the dividers!

"Your hands are so big."

It took Bob a moment to register that you were in fact, talking to him.

"Oh! Um yeah. My ma made me do piano because she felt I was given the hands for them," Bob wiggled his fingers for extra effect, "Y'know, since they're so long."

Yes, they were quite long. It was one of the first things you noticed about Bob. Well, after you noticed his beautiful blue eyes, his endearing lopsided smile, the way he was so considerate of everyone else, so gentle, and yet there was an underlying confidence about him. He was sure of himself, but he didn't feel the need to brag.

Who could blame you for falling head over heels for him?

You flashed him a smile, hand reaching towards his.

"It's just, your hand is so much bigger than mine. See?" You propped his arm up, allowing your palm to press against his, both your fingers spread out to showcase the difference in size.

"See? My hand is so small compared to yours," You giggled. Bob looked down at your hands. Your breath hitched, your fingers twitching, dying to entwine with his.

"Yeah, there is quite a difference in size," Bob said, giving you that small smile you adored so much. That smile gave you the confidence to entwine your fingers with his.

"I think they fit pretty well together, see?" He wasn't letting go. He was still smiling as he looked down at your hand holding his.

Maybe this was finally it, he'd finally realized that you liked him and would-

"I'm gonna go get some more peanuts, can I get ya anything?"

You mustered up a smile, trying to cover up your disappointment, "I'll take a water. Thanks Robby."

As soon as he left, you shot Jake a dirty look, "Seresin, you said that shit would work!"

Jake, who had been pretending to play a game of pool with Bradley, Javy, and Mickey, put his hands up in defense, "Because it usually does! Everyone knows when a girl compares hand sizes it means she wants you!"

"Everyone but Bob apparently," Javy muttered.

"Maybe you just need to be more obvious?" Mickey suggested.

You sighed. You knew Bob. The last thing you wanted was to be so blunt it would overwhelm him. But at the same time, you two had been doing this whole 'friends but also more than that and I'm pretty sure we're flirting?' for the last month and you were getting annoyed with it how seemed to be going nowhere.

Perhaps Mickey was right. You were going to have to be a bit more obvious.

"Bee? You ready?" Bob called out from your living room. Bob's nickname of your callsign (Honey) always brought a smile to your face, as well as heat to your cheeks.

"Almost! Can I get your thoughts on this top?" You asked as you walked in.

"Yeah, I'm sure you look-oh." Bob's eyes widened as he took in the green top you were wearing.

It was tighter than the shirts you normally wore, highlighting your breasts. The fabric stopped right at the end of your rib cage, showing off your stomach and bringing attention to your high waisted jeans, which according to Jake "did wonders for your ass".

"What do you think?" You clasped your hands together, the action causing your breasts to stick out even further.

"Um the uh, the color is really great on you. B-brings out your eyes," Bob said, his eyes looking everywhere except you.

With the way his cheeks were bright red, it gave you confidence to step forward, your body now inches away from his, "I was hoping it would bring out something else besides my eyes Robby."

"I mean you you look great in everything you wear! So mission accomplished," Bob said quickly, his hands fidgeting with his car keys.

"Anything else you want to say about the outfit Robby? I really value your opinion." You stood on the tips of your toes, bringing your chest closer to Bob's face.

It was the first time since you walked in that his eyes landed on your chest. He cleared his throat, as if he was gathering up the courage to say it.

"You should grab a jacket, it's supposed to go down to the low sixties tonight," He said, turning around to head out the door.

God damn it.

You grabbed your phone, quickly texting the group.

Honey: We need to go to Plan C.

Rooster: Plan C?! You're saying the top didn't work?

Bagman: Dude, your tits were like out.

Rooster: Maybe they weren't out enough?

Coyote: If they were out any more, Honey would be getting a public indecency charge.

Phoenix: Maybe we shouldn't use clothes to express our feelings? Just a thought 🤦🏽

Fanboy: Yeah Nat, that's plan C.

Payback: Can we not blow up the group chat tonight? The finale of Insecure is on.

Your right leg bounced up and down in nervous anticipation, your eyes never leaving the entrance to the Hard Deck.

"You don't think this is too much, is it?" You asked your friends/coworkers.

"Nah, it'll be perfect!" Mickey reassured you.

"You and Bob are going to walk out of here holding hands by the end of the night, guarantee it," Jake commented as he lined up the balls for a round of pool.

It took all your strength not to jump out of your seat when you saw Bob walk in. His iridescent blue eyes scanned the room, landing on you. He always seemed to search for you, which had to be a sign that he wanted more, that he felt the same way as you did.

You greeted him with a smile, patting the empty seat next to him.

"Hey Robby! I got something for you!" You called out.

Bob just smiled as he sat down, "I see you got my signature: water and peanuts. Thanks Bee!"

You giggled, shaking your head, "Yes, but that's not just it. These are for you!"

Bob stared at the bouquet of flowers you were holding out for him.

"For me? These are for me?" He asked, eyes wide as saucers.

"Yes! I was just thinking, like why is giving guys flowers not a thing? Because it totally should be! And no one deserves these flowers more than you Robby," You explained, a hopeful smile adorning your face.

Bob gently took the bouquet, admiring each flower.

"I thought they would go well with your eyes-that's why a most of them are yellow," you explained, trying to hide how nervous you were.

"These are perfect," Bob said before leaning down to smell the flowers.

"Really? Each flower has a different meaning," you began, hoping that by fidgeting with your hands, you'd be able to conceal your nerves.

Bob simply smiled, his face the epitome of saccharine, "Oh, I already know."

Your breath hitched, "You do?"

Bob nodded, "Oh yeah! Alstroemerias symbolize support, sunflowers are for loyalty, and violets stand for intuition!"

He wasn't wrong. You couldn't tell if you were upset by that or the fact that Mickey forgot flowers can have more than one meaning.

Time for Plan D.

"Hey Robby! You ready to watch hot people make poor decisions?"

"Ready as I'll ever-that's new," Bob said softly, taking in the new loungewear you had on for your biweekly Love Island watch.

"Oh this? I think I got it last week," you said as you let Bob into your apartment, "It's super comfy and it has pockets!"

It also was cut low, showing off your cleavage, as well as the tops of your thigh.

"Yeah, the uh, color looks really good on you Bee," Bob commented. The compliment brought a smile to your face. He noticed you, noticed you were wearing something new, and seemed to be noticing your now exposed skin.

"Well, let's go see if these folks gain any common sense," you grabbed his hand, practically beaming at how your hand fit perfectly in his.

"Somehow I doubt it," Bob chuckled.

When he offered to hold the popcorn for while you two watched, you weren't disappointed. Sure, it meant you weren't able to hold his hand. But it did mean you could move closer to him, your thighs practically touching.

"I really hope he doesn't take her back," Bob muttered, his eyes glued to the screen.

"He will. They always do," you sighed, gently moving your head so it rested against one of his broad shoulders.

If your action had any effect on Bob, he didn't show it. Which was the problem.

"I would pick you in the recoupling," You revealed, hoping that would be enough, would finally be enough.

Bob smiled, placing a hand on your knee, "That's kind of you Bee. But I think friendship couples go against the nature of the show."

It took everything in you not to scream.

The rest of the night was just a typical Love Island watch night, no touching, no initiating, no declarations of love, and ending with Bob giving you a friendly hug goodbye.

With a sigh, you flopped onto your bed to check your messages.

Bagman: Bee, please tell us it worked and you're marking sweet love to baby on board

Phoenix: you're disgusting Seresin.

Rooster: why would they stop fucking just to text you Bagman?

Bagman: so we can pop some champagne to celebrate

Fanboy: Why the fuck is would we do that?

Coyote: It's a big event! Bee told Bob how she feels AND Bob's getting laid!

Payback: Can I just get one night of peace? Just one night?

You: No one's doing anything bc it didn't work!

Rooster: Not trying to be rude, but weren't you like almost naked?

Bagman: Like 52% nude.

Phoenix: JFC, we're going to plan E folks.

Coyote: Is that when we just lock them in a closet?

Bagman: No that's plan G

"Hey Bee!"

The cheerful, charming voice always brought a smile to your face.

"Hi Robby!" You greeted him with a hug, the comforting scent of rosemary filling your nostrils, "You smell really nice."

"Oh um thanks," A hand flew to the back of Bob's neck, a nervous (and also adorable) habit, "Wanted to smell nice after doing all those pushups out in the sun."

"Well it worked, you smell great," One of your hands reached up to the nape of his neck, toying with the hair that had curled at the end, "Look great too."

The tops of Bob's cheeks were now a dusty pink, "It's just a white Tshirt."

You took a step forward, placing your hands on his chest, "It's a good look Robby. Shows off your muscles. I like it on you.

Bob's lips parted, then promptly closed.

"Uh, t-thanks Bee." He had to know now that you were flirting with him. It was clear as day.

Feeling confident, your hands trailed down to his, grasping them, "We should dance!"

You didn't wait for Bob to answer, dragging him out to the middle of the floor. The sounds of Bradley covering Frankie Valli (begrudgingly, as apparently Jerry Lee Lewis was better) filled the bar.

After a few minutes, Bob's shoulders visibly relaxed, a smile spreading across his face. You threw your head back laughing as he bust out a goofy dance move.

Everyone thought Bob was shy, but that wasn't the case. He was observant, determined to get a good read on someone so he knew how to approach the situation accordingly. Once he was comfortable, his personality shined and he was a sweet, goofy man who you adored with all your heart.

The grin you had was so wide, your cheeks were beginning to hurt. But you couldn't stop, not when he was twirling you around.

"Where did you learn to dance like that?" You asked, having to say it into his ear so he could hear your voice above the music.

Bob shrugged, "I come from a big family. When you know you're going to a lot of weddings, knowing how to dance helps. That and my mom made me do cotillion."

"Well, all that practice paid off. You're a great dance partner Robby." You rested your chin against his broad chest, looking up to meet eyes bluer than the ocean.

In that moment, all you could do was focus on him. The way the corner of his eyes creased when he truly smiled, his comforting scent, his pink, thin lips that you were dying to feel on yours.

You wondered if he could hear your heart pounding, if he could feel it since your body was practically on his.

His hands found their way to your arms, gently placing themselves on your biceps. Was this it? It had to be.

So you stood on the tips of your toes, your lips now closer to his. Your eyes began to close as you leaned in to-

"I gotta go. Jake stuck his foot in his mouth again."

This wasn't a lie. But it still didn't dull your disappointment. Nor did it sedate your growing frustration at this whole situation.

Perhaps you didn't need Plan G or H Perhaps it was time to go with your original plan.

The next time you saw Bob was when Nat threw a small get together to celebrate the end of a long week.

He was wearing that damn white Tshirt again. Whenever he brought his cup of water to his mouth, the fabric stretched across his bicep.

Was he doing this on purpose? Did he know? Consciously or not, that you had fallen for him ever since you two first met at training?

Either way, you were tired of this game you had been playing for the past month.

"Are you sure about this?" Natasha asked.

You simply nodded before taking a shot of vodka. A little liquid courage was always nice.

"Nat, he's oblivious. Honestly, I don't know why we didn't do this the first time," Jake commented as he took the shot glass out of your hand.

"Because we didn't expect him to be that oblivious," Mickey countered.

"Well everyone, wish me luck." You walked out of the kitchen to find Bob still sitting on the couch, glass of water in hand.

His eyes met yours and he gave you a smile sweeter than honey. Your legs began to wobble, whether it was from that smile or your nerves, you couldn't say.

You walked over, making a beeline for him. Bob's eyes widened, his fingers gripping his cup. Your gaze was so intense.

"Hey Bee-oh!" Bob froze as you sat down in his lap, your thighs straddling his lithe hips.

"Hey Robby," your hands found his shoulders, fingers toying with the thin cotton fabric of his shirt.

"Uh Bee, there's um, there's a seat right there," Bob weakly pointed to the empty space next to him.

"I don't want that," you leaned forward, your forehead grazing his, "I want you Robby."

His eyes widened once more, as if he just saw an incoming train, "M-me?"

"Yes. Wanted you ever since that first day of training, when you offered me a mint," you told him.

"I uh, you looked sleepy and mint is known to wake you up and," Bob paused, "Did you say since the first day of training?"

You nodded, smiling at how you were able to see him process this information.

"The first day of training?" He repeated.

"Yes Bob, all you did was offer me a mint and smile to make me fall head over heels for ya," your fingers now went up to the back of his neck, twirling the curled ends of his hair, "Been trying to tell you that for the last month."

Bob opened his mouth, then promptly closed it, his brain still processing everything.

"You good Rob-" You never got to finish your sentence, as Bob decided right then was the best time to press his lips against yours.

His lips were soft and tasted faintly of vanilla, no doubt from the chapstick you watched him reapply. His touch was gentle, his thick fingers ghosting over your thighs, trailing up to your waist. Every move, no matter how small, made your heart fluttered.

Being so close to him, you could smell his aftershave, a mix of eucalyptus and sage. It was intoxicating and you wanted to be surrounded by it all the time, wanted to kiss him all the time.

When he broke away for air, you had to hold back a whimper, your lips desperate for more.

"FINALLY!"

You turned your head to find Bradley, along with Mickey, Natasha, Jake, Javy, and Reuben standing by the doorframe, in perfect view of you and Bob.

You smiled and opened your mouth, ready to make a quick remark. But Bob's fingers hooked underneath your chin, turning your head back to meet his lips again.

Unlike the first kiss, this one was bolder. His lips moved against yours with more confidence. Your whole body felt warm, as if you were floating. His hands now cupped your jawline, which is how you learned that Bob's hands practically covered your whole neck, a discovery that sent you reeling.

Your hands trailed up to his head, desperate to feel his sun kissed locks, desperate to find out if they were as soft as they looked. But just before you could, Bob broke away.

"What?" Anxiety came rushing back, dragging you away from Cloud Nine, your previous location. Did he regret it?

"Let's go."

He moved your body to the empty space on the couch, quickly getting up. You took his hands, allowing him to help you get up. You held onto one hand as he led you to the front door.

"Bob! What are you doing with my backseater?" Javy called out.

"Making up for lost time!"

Maybe you should be a little embarrassed. But how could you? You had finally kissed the man of your dreams, he kissed you back. He wanted to leave with you.

The sounds of the house party fainted, becoming soft background noise as you went outside.

Bob stopped, turning around to face you. Before you could get out a sound, his lips were on you again. His hands pulled your body to his, closing the gap in-between.

You couldn't help but moan when you felt his tongue slide against your bottom lip, immediately granting him entrance. You could hear Bob's breath hitch, his hands roaming across your body, touching your soft skin.

Abruptly, he pulled away, leaving you desperate for more.

"Why do you keep doing that?!"

"I...." His face was flushed, "I meant to ask you if if you drove yourself here. But you looked so kissable. You still do, God I just wanna kiss you again."

"I'm not stopping you Robby," you grinned, stepping towards him, "I'm not stopping you at all."

"Oh don't tell me that darlin'" his Midwestern upbringing laced his words. You always loved his accent, having found it not just unique but also comforting.

Somehow, despite his lips pressed against yours, Bob was able to walk you back to his car, your back meeting the cool metal.

His broad body draped over yours, his tongue frantically exploring your mouth. Your fingers reached up, grasping his hair. It was soft and much thicker than you expected.

What else was there about Bob you had yet to learn? What kind of toothpaste he used, if he drank tea or coffee in the morning. Did he fall asleep to rain sounds or silence? How many pillows were on his bed?

You wanted to know everything.

But right now, you just wanted to kiss Bob.

Your fingers tugged on his hair in an attempt to pull him closer to you. Despite his chest being pressed against yours, it wasn't enough. You wanted all of him.

"We should get in the car," He said, voice breathless. With the way his chest was rising, one would think he had just ran ten miles.

Bob began moving towards the driver's side of his truck, but he stopped, turning back to you.

"I want to take you home," He stated. It sounded like a confession with the way guilt laced his eyes.

"I would love that Robby."

Instead, he just shook his head, "But I shouldn't because you deserve more than that. You deserve a nice date, like that Italian restaurant we always pass when we go to Bradley's. You deserve that and flowers and a lovely dinner with candles and wine that's older than both of us-"

You cut him off by gently pecking his lips, "It's okay Bob. You could take me to that diner up the room from your place tomorrow morning and I'd be elated because I would be with you."

He shook his head, clearly torn between continuing to talk and continuing to kiss you, "But....it's the least I should do. I mean, after all the hints you were dropping. I thought you were just being friendly and-"

"What friend asks another friend to look at their chest?" You asked incredulously.

"I thought maybe we were just really close! That you were really comfortable around me, which is why I didn't think anything regarding what you wore when we watched Love Island. I mean," his face reddened, "I did think about it. Um I thought about it a lot and if you ever want to wear it again, I would not mind-"

"Bob," you stepped forward, placing your hands on his chest.

"I mean, you got me Violets! Those mean loyalty and devotion, as well as delicate love! And believe me I wanted to kiss you at the Hard Deck, but that is entirely Jake's fault-"

"As most things are."

"And looking back it was so obvious and I can't believe I didn't pick up on it," He paused, "Sorry, I I had to get that out. I can take you home or back to my place, whatever you want."

You giggled, delighted by his ramblings. You wanted to hear more of it.

"And now I just want to kiss you. Like all the time," He confessed, his lips moving closer to yours.

"Robby, get in the car," you instructed.

"Oh, um, okay," Bob unlocked his car, moving towards the driver seat.

"No Bob. Get in the back of the car," you instructed.

Bob's brows knitted together in confusion, "But then how will I drive-oh!"

Who knows if you were going to make it back to his place or yours. All you cared about was getting your lips and hands back on Bob Floyd.

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katsukikitten · 3 months

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A rambling that adds more detail to this post about hockey players Izuku and Katsuki.

It doesn't help that you're the coach's pretty little daughter of one of the best hockey teams. At every home game and nearly every away game, you're there behind the plexiglass, insisting you buy your own tickets even when your dad can get you in for free. But occasionally you'll take his offer of a free game although it usually comes with the stipulation of being shoved into one of the manager's polo's, given a clipboard, and since this happened to be an away game you'd be forced to sit on the rowdy bus for the three hour drive.

But you really wanted to watch the championship and your paycheck came in too late when the rival match finals were FINALLY announced, it didn't help that the tickets were sold out in seconds!

So you'll stand by Daddy dearest trying to look important just behind the bench inside the cramped box the team will sit in while they wait to come on and off the ice. The team of course had to arrive early and since this was an away game, you had to look every bit the part of staff as everyone else. Which meant you too had to be in the locker room while the men stripped themselves with ease. Snarling and shoving playfully in the pre game excitement, arguing over who moved who's helmet and “where the fuck are we gonna eat after we win tonight?!”

Some of them speaking lewdly off their latest piece of ass and how Bakugou “had her barkin like a bitch in heat.” Before a chorus of laughs is shared sided from a hissed “Kacchan!” followed by a rough shove into metal lockers.

It isn't until they're all pulling on their jerseys on does your dad clear his throat. Giving the speech of the century but it half falls on deaf ears. Your cheeks burn as you feel every eye on you as if they only just now realized you'd been there the whole time but two men in partial catch your eye.

Izuku, beat red under his freckles, brows furrowed as if he's embarrassed he had such a dirty mouth in front of a lady. Embarrassed of the ‘locker room talk’ and how your tight pair of jeans has his cock twitching at the thought of you barking like a bitch in heat. His gloved hand comes to grip at the nape of his neck but it does little to quell the drunken gaze he gives you, his heated cheeks morphing into pure lust. Emerald eyes slipping around the room and when he sees Todoroki staring too intently at you his glare becomes deadly. Shouto looks away and then Izuku finds another poor soul to glare at, already possessive over something that wasn't even his.

The other being a toxic bromine, smiling wolfishly palming himself roughly as he keeps eye contact with you. Strong grip with his other hand on his hockey stick as he daydreams about you. He wants you in doggy first then missionary because you're so fuckin pretty and he's dying to know what you look like when you cum. Especially when you're creaming on his cock. He's dreamt about you before, he's fucked his fist to you before and he sure as hell has knocked some asshole’s teeth out over you before. It didn't matter if it was his own teammates or the opposing team with the exception that Izuku was allowed to make an occasional comment but no more than three before the childhood rivals would be at each other's throats.

Their gaze are always a little unnerving with their intensity, almost predatory and yet it never makes you feel uncomfortable. They'd proven before that they'd protect you when push came to shove, they did four seasons ago when you first moved to the city and before anyone on the team even knew the coach had kids, let alone a daughter. The bar was crowded, it was a rival team against some other team the city happened to give less of a shit about. The players were on an off day enjoying their few hours off the ice and of course the rough men chose a bar where they could watch a fucking hockey game and shoot shit.

You'd finally found a table with a decent view of one of the many TVs and the bar so you could easily get up and get yourself a drink. But your new male coworker offered to bully his way through the players for you, ending up at the end of the bar by a bulky curly haired man and loud ass ash blonde. Getting caught up in the game and taking your eyes off your coworker but only for a moment.

“Are you trying to spike her drink?” A thick scarred hand is over one of the glasses on the bar top, your coworker flushed red.

“Huh?”

“Ya fuckin dumb?” The ash blonde reaches over the curly haired man, yanking your coworker’s tie harshly, effectively smashing the man's face into the polished wood.

“He said were ya tryin to date rape that pretty woman over there?” The blonde cocks his head in your direction, a group of eight eyes turn to look over their shoulder and then back at your shitty coworker. Who stammers, tried to get himself out of the lie before the sweetest, deadliest voice comes from the freckled sunshine boy of the team.

“Smile.” But there's nothing but malice in his eyes as he snaps the photo, immediately texting it to every bar owner he knows. (Half the city!) Your coworker fled and they offered up a seat at the bar for you but you politely declined after that they periodically glanced back to see if you left yet and if you were still okay.

So it wasn't like the only thing they wanted was to get their dick wet right?

Bedsides what probably made you super hot to them was the fact that you were the coach’s daughter, aka off limits.

Sighing as you watch them skate around the rink gracefully despite their size, Izuku and Katsuki passing to one another before taking shots at Kirishima in his full gear as they all warm up. Soon the stadium will be packed with throngs of people pressing into the glass behind you. Most of them rival fans banging on the plexi in hopes to distract or rile up the team, not realizing you'd be distraction enough.

Because all night a pair of emerald and bromine eyes will be glued to you. One giving his killer smile and the other smirking as he delivers a deadly wink.

#literally just rambling like a senile woman at this point lmfao

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witchwyfe · 8 months

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lost in the fire - jhs

I pairing: jake ‘hangman’ seresin x female reader

I précis: you get jealous of your fwb!

I content/warnings: mentions of alcohol, mentions of almost-drunkenness, language, kissing, allusions to sex, friends with benefits

I word count: 969

There's a pit in your stomach when you see Jake talking to another girl. You don't even know why you agreed to come out with your shared friend group, you're tired from a long week and now pissy because Jake isn't paying you any attention.

She’s pretty, with blond hair and green eyes, a manicured hand dancing up his arm. He laughs at something she says and you grind your teeth, jaw clenched uncomfortably.

Mickey thought it would be fun to go to club, rather than the usual hangout at the Hard Deck, and everyone else was on board.

Jake's out of uniform tonight, in a satin-y black shirt and well-fitting jeans. You're dying to run your hands down his chest, before yanking his clothes off, but you've kept your distance this evening. You're irritated that he's been avoiding you, even though you specifically told him you didn't want any of your friends to know about your arrangement.

You met Natasha at a hot yoga class and you two became quick friends. Once the two of you were close enough, she introduced you to her squadron. Not even a few hours after she brought you to the Hard Deck and introduced you to all her friends/coworkers, you'd hooked up with Jake in the bathroom. Even though you swore it wouldn’t happen again, it did, a lot.

So it became a regular thing, that you conveniently didn't mention to everyone else. A good old fashioned friends with benefits. He didn’t seem the type to be in a relationship and you weren’t looking for anything serious.

Problem is, both of you get jealous but neither of you will admit it, or ask for something more.

You take the tequila shot that Natasha slides in front of you, reveling in the burn down your throat. You're one shot past fun, buzzy, tipsy, and entering a pouty, crabby tipsy. You want nothing more to sit at the high top table, with your arms crossed and bottom lip popped out until Jake comes and gives you some attention, but instead you force a smile, and pull Natasha out to dance.

Unbeknownst to you, Jake has had an eye on you all night, and know that you've moved to dance, closer to his perch at the bar, his gaze is locked on your form.

The tight dress you have on accentuates your form and Jake almost wipes drool from his mouth when he see's you dancing against Natasha. Your ass rolls against her front, her hands loosely on your hips. You’re both giggling, your head thrown back against her shoulder.

Song after song, you dance with Natasha, until you feel like you can no longer stand up on your own, feet aching in your heels. You wobble over to the table, simultaneously jealous and in awe of the way Natasha seems to gracefully strut to the table, even after four tequila shots.

Jake is back at the table, he must’ve lost the woman he was talking to, because she’s nowhere to be found. You’re still sporting a frown though, facial muscles taut. Jake is studying you carefully, but you don’t even notice, reaching for Natasha to ask for another shot.

“Why don’t I get you some water, sweetheart?” He cuts in, hand reaching for you. You step away from his hand, face pulling into a scowl, but following in his direction nevertheless. His hand hovers over your lower back, not actually touching you, but you can still feel the heat from his appendage.

“I missed you.” He says quietly, once you’re far enough from the table.

You snort, giving him a cold look. “Could’ve fooled me.”

His brows furrow, a pout that you would find cute any other time, tracing his lips. “I don’t understand, I thought we weren’t telling anyone?”

You roll your eyes with a huff, crossing your arms. “That’s not what I’m talking about, Jake.”

“Then, please, enlighten me, darlin’,” He whines, not a trace of sarcasm in his tone.

You sigh heavily. “If you missed me so much, like you said, then why were you talking to other girls?” You wonder, eyes narrowed.

“Baby, are you kidding me?!” He exclaims, ignoring the sharp look you give him—whether its from the baby or his volume level, he doesn’t know. “My favorite girl was ignoring me, I—“

“No Jake, I’m not ‘kidding you’.” You snap, abruptly cutting him off. “What the hell am I supposed to think? You spend the whole night, not speaking to me, but you’re fine with talking blondie’s ear off all night? I wasn’t ignoring you, I’m trying not to make it obvious to our friends that we’re sleeping together, but you could at least acknowledge me!”

“Are you jealous?” He blurts, he can’t help the bubble of laughter that escapes him, even when he thinks he see’s smoke come out of your ears.

“Shut the fuck up.” You hiss.

“No need to be jealous baby,” He sidles right up to you. “You’re the one I’m goin’ home with, pretty girl.”

“Well she doesn’t know that.” You grumble.

“You’re the only that needs to know it.” He rasps, calloused palms sliding gently over your cheeks, before warm lips land on yours.

His tongue is practically down your throat when you finally push him off, feigning an appalled expression. Your cheeks warm under his gaze, but you also can’t deny how good it feels to be the only person he’s looking at right now.

“Take me home then.” You dare, locking your eyes on his.

“Gladly.” He smirks, sliding his arm around your shoulders. He walks you both by your group, dropping enough cash on the table, to cover all of your drinks, before leading you outside.

If your friends didn’t know before, they definitely do now.

#mine #my work #my writing #witchwyfe #witchwyfe writing #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x you #jake hangman seresin imagine #jake hangman seresin fanfiction #jake hangman seresin oneshot #jake hangman seresin blurb #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin oneshot #jake seresin fanfiction #tw alchol #jake seresin blurb #jake seresin imagine

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captain-mj · 7 months

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I’m on my hands and knees BEGGING you for a stripper au 🙇🙇🙇🙇

Of course!! I've been dying to make one of these!!

Soap should not be here. He's a college professor for fuck's sake. He makes decent money but it's the principle of the things. Why would he go to a strip club when he could go to the bar and actually go home with someone?

But it was what his friends had invited him to do and he went along with it.

He tried not to overthink his clothing or the chances of him seeing any of his students there.

Soap ordered a scotch and tried to find somewhere to sit. It was a mixed club with men and women. It seemed... a little seedy despite the more expensive feeling of the place. Something about the entire thing felt off. He brushed off his feelings, blaming Catholic judgement for it.

Chuy had amassed a group of men and women around him to listen to his cryptid facts. He occasionally passed them money so they were making something but they were also choosing to stay next to him.

Gaz was staring at Chuy, trying to understand how he managed to do that.

Alejandro had disappeared... somewhere.

Soap took a sip of his drink, liking it at least. He doubted it was anything too fancy but it did the job just fine.

Pretty people went past him. Some flirted or tried to get him to take a lap dance, but he wasn't interested. They were nice, but not really his type. Nor did he want to blow a bunch of money just for the sake of it.

Soap found a place to sit where he could watch the stage, trying to see where everyone had disappeared to.

There was someone his type. Tall. Dressed in black. Broad shoulders and burly chest. Makeup all around his eyes. Pretty eyeliner.

The man, Ghost if his name tag meant anything, looked more like a bouncer than a stripper. But he was shirtless with just a mask and tight pants and he was eyeing Soap.

Big doe brown eyes staring into him, silently asking if he wanted his attention.

Soap was very happy there was an ATM nearby. With a confidence that was very much faked, he motioned for him to come over.

Ghost walked over. He didn't bat his eyelashes or immediately straddle him. He just stood between Soap's legs and looked down at him, almost like he inconvenienced him.

Soap put a twenty in Ghost's pocket and that look melted away, replaced with something much nicer.

"You look lonely."

Fucking Brits. Of course he was British. That didn't change that Soap's body had a visceral reaction to his voice.

"It's cause I am. Come to give me some company?"

Ghost laughed at him. It made Soap shrink back and his cheeks flushed. If anything though, it made him a little harder in his jeans. "You're cute. Name?"

Soap looked down his body, admiring the hard muscle and the slightly softer stomach. His hands fidgeted. "Soap."

"You can touch. And my name is Ghost."

Soap was immediately all over him. He'd like to use his mouth but that would be a little much in such a public area.

It would occur to him in exactly six hours that one of the biggest rules about strip clubs is you don't touch the dancer. And that Ghost had not let anyone else touch him that night. That would be in six hours though and right now, he was just marveling at the scarring along Ghost's body.

They were impossible to see with the club lighting, but he could feel them under his fingertips. The texture similar to a scar he had on his hand from dropping a knife.

He squeezed his eyes tight and gripped Ghost's sides. Ghost's hand grabbed his chin and made him look up. Dark eyes inches from his face.

"You alright, love?"

Soap shoved more money into Ghost's hands. "How much for a private dance?"

"I don't usually do those."

Soap must've looked distressed because Ghost, the saint, took pity on him. "Fine. How much do you have?"

"Three hundred dollars."

"I'll give you an hour."

Soap nodded and followed him excitedly. He didn't miss Ghost's amused glance.

The man grabbed the pole, slowly spinning around it as he watched Soap sit down. "You're adorable."

Soap blushed more and dropped his money at Ghost's feet. "Going to lose the mask?"

"You don't want me to. Trust me." Ghost jumped up and spun faster, suspending himself and expose his chest more.

"You ugly under there?"

"Quite the opposite."

"Worried I'll fall in love with you?"

"Absolutely." Ghost spun around slowly and arched his back. "Can't have you following me home, vying for me attention."

Soap felt himself getting hard. His body moved with such fluidity and grace that it was hard to not think of how it would feel to be underneath him. To have Ghost grabbing his hips. Would he prefer to be on top or bottom? He was more than happy either way. As long as those fucking abs were pressed against him, he could live with it.

Ghost crossed over to him and straddled him. He was so much bigger. So much fucking bigger. "Your hands go below my belt and I'll get you banned."

"Yes, sir."

"I like sir."

"Anything you want, sir." Soap smiled at him and put his hands on Ghost's waist. He ground down on him, the pressure against his body making him half crazy. His hips jerked up and Ghost paused, glaring.

"Don't move."

Soap took a deep breath and nodded. Ghost started to move again, letting Soap get a good look on him. It was so easy to imagine less clothing. God, he'd bankrupt himself to have Ghost riding him like this. His pants had slid down to see his v-line.

Soap slid his hands further up and touched his throat. Ghost purred and pressed in harder. "You're a pretty guy, you know that?"

Soap blushed more. "Thank you, sir."

Ghost stood up and trailed his hands between Soap's thighs, so tempting. Was he actually going to?? To touch?? him?? He was hoping for a lot here but his hands were getting so close.

Gaz knocked quickly. "Hey, Johnny, we gotta go. Right now. We're getting kicked out. Alejandro flirted a little too much with his favorite stripper."

Soap felt his heart sink. "Wai-"

Ghost stood up and fixed his pants. "Oh. You're Vargas's friend?"

Soap cringed. "Ah. Is that a bad thing?"

"Get out."

Soap moped the entire night, being extra mean to Alejandro for ruining that for him.

"I think I just missed the love of my life."

"He was a stripper. He just wanted your money." Chuy pointed out. He was currently washing the phone numbers off his arm. All of them were glaring at him.

Soap went to bed and maybe cried a little. Just a little. He refused to be that heartbroken over a guy he met for five minutes. His dick was heartbroken though.

Fucking Vargas.

He couldn't blame him too much. It was Rodolfo he had been flirting with. Those two had been chasing each other for ages and now Alejandro just blew as much money on him as he could until he ran out and Rodolfo kicked him out for it.

Soap crawled out of bed that day and went to work. He passed all of his colleagues, still thinking of those dark eyes and gorgeous body.

"Professor MacTavish." One of his colleagues greeted him as he passed.

Soap froze and turned around. Dark eyes. Gorgeous body. Ginger hair.

Professor Riley, someone Soap barely interacted with, stood there. Cardigan wrapped around him. He wore a medical mask thanks to self proclaimed "hideous" scarring.

"Hi..."

Ghost looked at him. "Yes, MacTavish?"

"I..."

Ghost tilted his head, looking confused. "Something wrong?"

Soap shook his head. "No..."

Ghost nodded and turned away to keep making his tea.

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish #call of duty modern warfare ii #cod mw2 #ghostsoap #cod #soapghost

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myths-tournaments · 6 months

Text

Awful Characters Round 2 Part 1 (2/8)

Propaganda under the cut!

IANTHE TRIDENTARIUS

Her number one hobby is ruining every person's that she knows life. Her second hobby is being soooo slutty about it despite looking like a literal wet rat. Her third hobby is having an extremely unhealthy relationship with her twin. Her other hobbies include cannibalism, wearing a maid outfit, being extremely convinced she is the main character, the badboy sexy love interest and the villain. 'Why', you may ask. Well, the answer is, for shits and giggles #justgirlythings i, aswell as literally everybody else in the fandom have gone through the pipeline from hating her to desperately wanting to fuck her. expect for i still fucking hope she dies and doesn't come back for good. (that would literally solve all of everybody's problems) as god intended (EXPECT FOR. one of her hobbies literally is gaslighting god) She is fucking horrible i will love her until i die and even after that

parks and recs jean ralphio voice she's the woooorst!! The moment she learns she has to kill someone to become a Lyctor (aka a more special necromancer), she doesn't hesitate to kill and cannibalize the guy who has been her cavalier since childhood… cavalier who she also totally bullied as kids, she was allowed to choose one guest for her and her twin sister's birthday party each year, and she would always pick whoever she thought her cavalier didn't want to see there! While other characters are shown to regret the process of becoming a Lyctor (which involves someone close to them dying)/were forced into it because of circumstances, Ianthe has absolutely no regrets, she believes she did what she had to do

The author once said of Ianthe: "I don't think she's been nice to anyone, if she has I'll go back and change it." She killed and ate the soul of someone she has known all her life so that she could become a necromantic saint and tormented him plenty before that. General negging, ganging up against him, always inviting people he didn't like to their birthday parties. She doesn't regret killing him. I think she is repulsed by the idea that his digested soul is affecting hers. She helped her crush lobotomise herself so she would be in Ianthe's debt, and later lied and said she didn't see the corpse of a woman her crush killed under her bed (why did she do that? I do not know). She has a bone arm because her original arm was cut off, she hated the replacement so her crush cut THAT off and grew her a new one out of just bones. She had it gilded and only after that did she decide to help her crush deal with the person who had been repeatedly trying to kill her. She wants so badly to be the main character but people keep interrupting her villain monologues.

she has her own content warning tag

She's such a bitch to everyone all the time, she causes nothing but problems, she tries to do a villain speech but fumbles it because her tummy hurt, she is the awfulgirl of all time

THE SKULL

he is an evil ghost who used to be an assistant to a mad scientist gravedigger. accomplice to murder and torture and general evil scheming. now he lives in a jar and is besties with a teenage girl. and by besties i mean he encourages her to kill people and constantly cheers when her friends almost die. overall a silly little decapitated head <3

It is literally a skull in a jar. (More context if you don’t know the books/show: it’s a ghost source that’s been trapped in a silver container so it can’t escape. And it’s exceptionally powerful which means it can actually communicate with mc.) It frequently encourages the mc to commit various morally reprehensible acts such as homicide (she never does). When it was alive, it was a teenage boy who was apprenticed to an evil scientist.

#awful characters tournament #tournament poll #awful characters round 2 #the locked tomb #tlt #ianthe tridentarius #lockwood and co #the skull

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d0wnb4df0rf1cm3n · 1 year

Text

Dirty Talk

Natasha x F!Reader

See, in my head, Nat is a big dirty talker. She loves to watch you squirm, clenching your thighs just from her words alone.

Sometimes she'll wake you up with her finger tapping gently on your clit, whispering in your ear how much of a slut you are for waking up this horny, "Honey, you just woke up! And you're already dripping? How pathetic!"

She'll leave you hornier and unsatisfied, "I'm sorry, baby, I have to go to work. But I know you won't touch yourself, right? Be a good little girl for me, hmm?"

You'll struggle all day, the horniness making it impossible for you to focus. More than once, someone will come up and ask you if you're okay and if you need to take the rest of the day off. You assure them, you are fine, and try to get back to your task. Your phone buzzes. It's from Nat. "I'm dying to touch you, baby girl. When you walk through that door, I'm gonna have you pushed up against the wall. You like that, don't you?" You can almost hear her smirking through the text. You cross your legs under the desk to hide the pooling arousal in your panties.

True to her word, when you return home later, she pins you to the wall and slips her hand into your underwear. "You're such a good girl for me, honey, so wet already." You moan into her passionate kisses as she sticks one finger into your begging cunt. "Do you like that? You like being taken wherever I want?" Your only answers are moans, too far gone to say anything else.

She'll pepper kisses down to your breasts, before sucking and nipping at your nipples. You might put a hand over your mouth to cover your moans - trying to keep some decency in front of your neighbours. Nat would grab your hand, "Don't hide your moans from me, pretty girl. Love all the filthy little sounds you make for me."

You know Nat's rules - you can't cum without her permission. So when your legs are shaking and your throat is raw from begging, Nat will utter your favourite words. "Cum for me."

Other times, Nat will start her mission in more inappropriate places. She'd stop by your desk and bend down to whisper in your ear. "Imagine me fucking you on this desk. Imagine everyone on the floor seeing just how much of a slut you are for me. Wouldn't that be fun?" You'd have to run to the bathroom to splash some water on your face.

She'd send you a video of her playing with herself in the mirror on your lunch break, captioned: "Wish you were here." You'd squirm as you watched it over and over, brain caught in a mindless loop.

You'd walk into your shared apartment, eyes already glazed over in lust. Nat would be relaxing on the bed, feet propped up with a book in hand as you crawled over to her, tempted to rip every article of clothing off your body.

She'd laugh at you, "Dumb little baby, you got all horny at work? Such a little slut for me, huh?" You nod, pulling off your clothes until your just left in your underwear. Nat's gaze sets you on fire.

"So needy," she chuckles, turning back to her book, "so weak." You whine, stripping until you're bare and you straddle her hips. You wait for her permission though - no use in breaking her rules, no matter how horny you are. "Go on then. Use me to get yourself off. I know you can't do it yourself anyway."

As you dry hump her jeans, Nat's hand wraps around your throat. She leans in to kiss you but inches away from your lips she stops. "Mine." She utters, tone dangerous and commanding. You whimper pathetically, "All mine."

#natasha romonova #marvel women #marvel smut #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x reader smut #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #wlw smut #gxg smut #x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x reader #marvel #top natasha romanoff #no y/n #nat #sub reader #bottom reader

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stumachersfavoritegirl · 1 year

Text

His Favorite Girl <3

Stu Macher x Reader

Disclaimer: The use of Y/N pertains to you inserting your own name. The main character in the story is you, but you just have a a different description. Imagination is fun girlies ;3 I also deeply apologize for the late post, life has been very stressful for me right now and whenever it becomes overwhelming, it's hard for me to think about anything else, which includes "My Favorite Girl" but, don't worry, I'll still be posting it because it's definitely a solitude for me. But, I won't be giving a schedule for it anymore because I feel like that ruins the trust between me and you guys <3 Thank you for understanding and enjoy!

Chapter 2: D-dont...you walk away from me

I tap my pencil on the desk repetitively, anxiously waiting one more minute before the final bell of the day rings. I'm biting my lip as my thoughts race, it's becoming a reality and not another dream my mind thought up. Stu Macher is actually going to the Brew to meet me, and no one else. Not Tatum, Billy, his friend group, me. I've never felt this special before, it was a feeling I didn't want to end. I've never had a boy be vulnerable with me about how they felt, let alone about me. I mean, just yesterday I was a nobody to him. Now, he's meeting me in janitors closest alone, saying my name, thinking about my breast? I mean, holy fuck! Who am I right now that Stu Macher knows me, likes me, wants...me? It's almost overwhelming, the feeling of being wanted by someone you'd never thought you'd have for years. It's too unbearable actually, almost... too good to be true. My thoughts are cut off by the final bell, and I sigh as I finally gather my notebooks in my backpack. A smile uncontrollably forms on my face, as I imagine him looking at me in awe as he walks into the brew. Me sitting there with my hair down, no glasses, skinny jeans and an old tank top of my moms that she doesn't know I took...what? Desperate times call for desperate measures. Probably some cashmere sweater my mom has in her closet too, so my chubby arms can still be covered, while my cleavage is basically full frontal. I blush as I sling my backpack over my shoulder, beginning to exit the classroom. I wonder if he'll be wearing the same thing, or maybe he'll change like me. I wonder if we'll only talk about school work, or maybe we'll talk about us. I've been dying to ever since the janitors closet. All those things he said, what did it mean? My minds been racing since. I still can't believe he was looking at me like that, his pupils were so dilated, I felt like I was staring into his soul looking into them. I make my way into the hallway and walk towards the exit of the school with everyone else. Students begin to scream however, and everyones voices combined grows too loud, ruining my thought process. I roll my eyes, reaching for my cassette player and headphones in my backpack. I grab it, zipping my bag closed, when I look up and see Billy Loomis. He walks pasts me and our eyes meet before he looks away and chuckles, covering his mouth. I furrow my brows as he pasts me, looking down as I rest my headphones on my head. What was that look about? I drag my fingers across my face, trying to pinpoint any food residue on it. When I feel nothing, I reach for my hair, running my fingers through it. Hmph, nothing stuck in it. I let my tongue linger over my front teeth to feel any food stuck in between. But when I feel nothing, my face scrunches together. What could he have been laughing at? I roll my eyes as I exit the building, pressing play on my cassette player as I walk down the school entryway stairs. As I put my cassette player away, I see Tatum and Stu again. His arms are wrapped around her shoulder as a pre rolled blunt rests in his hand. His other hand is flailing around as he talks to Tatum, and she walks beside him with a lollipop in her mouth, toying with it using her tongue.

He looks down and sees this, and he bends down to lick her lollipop. She scoffs, preparing to pluck him in the head with it. He takes off before she can though, and she follows him as she screams out, laughing "Asshole!" He giddily laughs as he runs away, shockingly in my direction. My eyes widen as I see them approach me, and I swallow as I press my lips together. I subtly look up to meet his gaze as he passes me, and he doesn't even look at me. He continues to laugh as he runs by, his smell washing over me again and my knees almost buckle. She runs after him, towards me and her eyes throw daggers at mine. I quickly look away from her, but she makes a note to bump my shoulder as she passes me. I sigh as I rub my shoulder, rolling my eyes. I've literally never hated someone more. I turn to look at them , and he runs back into the building as she's close in pursuit, yelling after him. I shake my head in disbelief as I face forward and continue walking home. Why didn't he look at me? I mean, how could he go from standing over me...confessing his feelings for me, being completely vulnerable with me, to running past me, not even looking in my direction? That was really really weird, and a knot forms in my stomach, trying to depict what it meant.

///////////////////////

As I open the door to the Brew, I look at the clock inside, 4:00 on the dot. I smile to myself as I look around, trying to find his piercing blue eyes. When I don't see them however, I walk to the nearest table, placing my backpack and cassette player on the table before I take a seat. I tuck my wild curls behind my ears, looking around again, dreading that I didn't bring my glasses for emergency purposes. I feel a slight breeze and cover my exposed cleavage with my mothers cashmere sweater, snapping my neck towards the door. It's an older couple, both with canes, laughing as they walk in together. I smile as I look down, feeling as though I'm invading there privacy by staring. I continue to smile as I imagine that being me and Stu eventually. I shake the thought though, and as the breeze continues I decide to grab a small coffee as I wait for him. Looking at the clock again as I get up, it's 4:04. I figured he'd get here before me to see if I was on time or not. I try to calm down though, as I tell myself it's literally only been 4 minutes. Even if it were 10, did I really even expect Stu Macher to show up on time to discuss school work? Granted, he asked, but he never really seemed like the academic type. I kinda liked that about him though, his carefree spirit. He never seemed to let anything bother him, even a bad grade or detention 4 nights in a row. He just kinda, went with the flow of life, something I always admired about him. Something that always made me drawn to him. As I reach the counter, I pull out $1.05 to pay when I feel a sharp breeze from the door again. As I turn to look, I notice it's one of the kids from my school. His hairs blonde and spikey almost, his big brown eyes sweep the crowd of the Brew until they land on mine. I think I've seen him in science class a few times, other times he's blatantly skipping. I flash a friendly smile his way, but he doesn't return one. He quickly looks away as he heads to sit down. I feel like everyone is acting so weird towards me today, and I straighten my squished eyebrows as I approach the register to order.

As I wait for them to make it, I look in his direction and see him sit by the chair next to me. I face forward to grab my small coffee, and head back to my seat. Our eyes meet again, and he quickly averts his again, while pulling out school supplies. I place my coffee on the table as I sit back down, scratching the back of my neck as I continue to look around for Stus tall frame and brunette short hair. I take a quick sip from the coffee, sighing as I pull out my school supplies. I'll just get everything ready for his arrival, maybe I should've gotten him a coffee too? I mentally face palm myself as I pull all my English notes and Algebra textbooks out, pulling out two pencils, two Crayola highlighters, and a Hewlett Packard calculator. I align everything on the desk neatly to pass time, glancing at the clock again. 4:10 now...sheesh, I mind as well have took an extra 10 minutes to do my makeup. I could've used a wand of mascara, my eyes couldn't be more squinted from the lack of sleep I've been experiencing lately. I keep having repeated nightmares of Stu rejecting me in front of the whole school in the cafeteria after realizing I've had a crush on him since Sophomore year. He tells me that, "He'd never like a weird, fat, and boring loser like me. Not even in my dreams." and then as soon as the entire cafeteria erupts with laughter, I'm always startled awake by my alarm clock, covered in sweat, gasping for air, and on the verge of pissing myself from embarrassment. His words will always echo in my head shortly after I'm awake, and they almost begin to echo now, as doubt fills my mind. Why is he so late? But, I shake the thought though, pursing my lips together as I take another glance at the door. Any minute now, he'll walk in. He'll be sweating from running to make it on time, our eyes will meet as he swings open the door, and he'll flash me a sly grin before walking towards me. I'll probably blush and look away, wondering why I was so nervous about this afternoon. Any minute...

/////////////////////////

10 minutes turns to 3 hours, and before I know it, I'm rolling my eyes as I witness another person walk into the Brew that isn't him . Wow, if this isn't straight out of my regular scheduled nightmares, then I don't know what would be. Stu Macher completely just stood me up. This isn't even a date, which makes it worse! I'm literally just supposed to be helping him study, and he couldn't even show up for that? I fight the tears threatening to pour out my eyes as I begin to pack my supplies, aggressively throwing them in my backpack as I mumble to myself. "Fucking prick. How dare he act like that towards me? Like he had the biggest infatuation with me for months, then stand me up only a few hours later. How could he? I mean, what did I ever even do to him? What have I ever even done to anybody? I'm one of the nicest people at that school, I deserve to at least be treated like a person. I mean, at least-" as I get up, slinging my backpack over my shoulder in a huff, my eyes lock with the boy from school again. He's almost looking at me worried, but this time, there's too much rage in me to avert my eyes. This time, I stare directly back at him. "What the fuck are you looking at?" I yell aloud, and his eyes widen before he looks back down at his textbook.

The whole Brew flashes their heads at me, and feeling embarrassed by my outburst but too angry to show it, I completely storm out, swinging the door open and letting it hit the wall behind it. It starts to rain as I walk home, which makes me even more livid. I stomp my way down the street as I continue to mumble more curse words amongst myself. "This is exactly what I get for ever thinking a guy like Stu Macher could ever have any interest in me. I should've known everything was too good to be true! He's never even looked in your direction until today, but had the nerve to have me believe he had some type of serious interest in me? I mean, he couldn't even look at me on school grounds a few hours ago! As soon as I noticed that, I should've made the decision to never come. That was literally the biggest sign I could've seen, that he isn't actually into me. This must just be some sort of game, this has to be. He told me not to be late, just to never show? Who am I even kidding? Why did I ever expect another outcome? This isn't a fairytale Y/n. I'm a loser, he's popular. Our worlds don't even mix. " The rage fills my throat, and I scream aloud, letting all the anger, sadness, pain, and rejection I feel out into the rain. Fuck Stu Macher, Fuck Woodsboro High, fuck everyone! I'm sick of being the nice, quite, good girl. I'm so sick of being everyones target for an easy ego boost, for sadism, for the next human joke. It's my turn to be a fucking asshole.

///////////////////////

As I walk along the school grounds, I notice news anchors scattered everywhere. It's 7:50 am as I rush to my first class, walking by each of them as I listen "-are doing drugs they buy in the classroom. And that they're involved in the occult..."

“Occult?”

"The small town of Woodsboro, California was devasted last night when two young teenagers were brutally murdered. Authorities have yet to issue a statement, but our sources tell us that no arrest have been made and the murderer could strike again."

My eyes widen as I continue to look around, noticing every student is paired up with someone. All of them talking amongst themselves. All of their faces, were plastered with worry…with fear. I overhear a few of them as I pass by. "Oh my gosh, I had social studies with Casey."

"-Steve was one of the best football players on our team. What are we gonna do about next weeks game-"

"I heard, they found Casey gutted like a fish. Hung up by her own intestines!"

"I heard they found Steve and Casey chopped into pieces with their body parts scattered all over her house."

I furrow my brows as I continue into the school building, resting my headphones back on my head to drown everyone out as I process everything. I think… Casey Becker and Steve Orlin are dead! I can't believe another murder happened in Woodsboro. We all kinda assumed it would stop after Cotton Weary was arrested. What happened to Mrs. Prescott was horrific and everyone was relieved when he was issued the death penalty. But now, it looks like there still may be a murderer amongst us. I enter English class at 8:00 on the dot, but this time, Mr. Tate doesn't bark at me. He doesn't even raise his head to acknowledge me. I quickly make way for my seat, when I notice Stu Macher isn't in his. I quickly hang my backpack over my seat, pulling out all of my supplies and placing them on my desk before I sit down. I look around at everyone, noticing how silent it is. Usually people would be talking, loudly listening to music, passing notes, laughing amongst each other. But this time, it was different. You could feel the death, the darkness everywhere you looked. I sigh deeply as I face forward, opening my textbook when I notice a post it note sticking out of one of the pages. I flip to the page, dragging my fingers along the familiar messy red thick ink as I read.

"I couldn't make it to the Brew, but I need want to see you before lunch today. I need I'd like to talk to you. It's important to me. Be at our spot by 11:55."

First of all, the audacity! He had me wait 3 hours for him, just for him to not show, and he really thinks I'm gonna show up for him now that he “wants to see me”? I scoff as a chuckle sneaks up and out of my throat. Prick. I should have him wait there for me for an entire hour. I should have him feel exactly the way I felt last night, stranded and abandoned. I rip the post it note into small pieces, allowing each piece to cover my desk and the ground below me, not caring if it's drawing attention. I start to care however, when I notice Stu walk into class. "I know I'm late Mr. Tate. The news anchors are crowding the whole entryway! I almost got tackled to the ground just for a simple little interview." He says, chuckling as he walks backwards to his desk. "Mr. Macher, please quietly take a seat. Some students are trying to mourn in peace." Mr. Tate motions his hand to the crowd of students sitting down, all pouting, staring at a wall or out the window. Stu shrinks into his shoulders as he grits his teeth, mouthing an "oops..." as he pretends to tip toe to his desk. When he passes mine, he looks down at the post it puddle I've left scattered around for anyone to see. He almost stops in his tracks, and our eyes meet. He furrows his brows almost, and smiles like he's accepting a challenge, but I stare back at him angrily, my eyes read that there's no game being played on my end. He quickly squints at me, almost like he's trying to figure out a puzzle, before he continues his way to his seat. I listen as he drags out his chair loudly, plopping into it. I slightly turn my head to look at him, and he’s staring at me so hard, I almost melt right into my seat. I quickly face forward again, swallowing as I tap my pencil on the desk silently. Damn, I definitely didn’t mean for him to see that. I thought he was skipping class today…I mentally face palm myself as I bite my lip, tapping my pencil faster as my anxiety builds. Holy shit, what if that ruined everything? What if he thinks I hate him now? What if he doesn’t wanna talk to me anymore because he thinks I tried to embarrass him by ripping up the post it? What if he-wait, fuck him.

I almost forgot I’m angry at him, in fear that he was angry at me. But I don’t want to be fearful of that. Good riddance he saw it, maybe he’ll leave me alone. Maybe, he’ll finally stop taunting me with his modelesque good looks, bright blue eyes and lean muscular frame. Maybe, he won’t want to torture me with being fake study buddies anymore to boost his already inflated ego. Maybe- “Ms. Y/n. I just told Mr.Macher to keep quiet for the sake of everyone else! What makes you any different?” I taste blood as I stop biting my lip, realizing I’m tapping my pencil on the desk so loud it’s drawing everyone’s attention, including Stu. I purse my lips together as I sink into my seat, looking around and locking eyes with Stu again. He’s grilling me at this point, and feeling rather impudent, I dramatically roll my eyes as I sweep the rest of the post it pieces onto the floor. I rest my head on my hand as I sigh softly, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear as a student comes in, handing Mr. Tate a piece of paper. The whole class faces forward, and everyone’s attention is drawn to Mr. Tate. “Kaitlin Bennett, the principals office for questioning.” Everyone turns towards her, and she stands up flustered as she walks towards the exit. I rub the back of my neck, feeling as though it’s burning, and I look behind me to face Stu again, who's still looking at me, sneering. I face forward and watch the girl shimmy past all the students sitting, throwing a small smile at Mr.Tate before she and the other student exit the room. I look down at my textbook again, deciding to just study for my english exam this week. I adjust my glasses as I continue to read, but with everything going on, I easily get distracted. Why did they call that girl to the office for questioning? Do they think she did it? She doesn't look like she'd kill anyone, let alone two. I heard a lot of people saying the crime scene was pretty brutal, no way she did that.

I raise my brows, trying to get back to my english work when suddenly the student behind me passes me a note from under my arm. I slightly jump, never receiving a note in class, I'm startled by the sudden gesture. I quickly turn around, but the student behind me is buried in a Harry Potter Novel. Understanding the concentration that kind of book takes, I quickly face forward, not wanting to interrupt them. I sigh before opening the letter, recognizing the bold sloppy red ink by now,

"See me at our spot after class. Walk there before me, I'll be behind you. I need to talk."

I roll my eyes as I close the note. Jesus, someone is persistent. I crumble the note into a ball before tossing it onto the floor. I refuse to give him any satisfactory communication today after yesterday. I refuse to give into the daze of Stu Macher. I refuse. I hear someone clear their throat behind me, but I don't turn around, expecting our eye contact to turn me into stone.

///////////////////////////

The bell finally rings, and I quietly close my textbook to avoid more eyes on me this period. I gather all my books in my arms as I stand up, grabbing my backpack to place it on my desk. I open it, throwing all my books and school utensils inside before zipping it closed, and tossing it over my shoulder. I exit the classroom, and as I walk around, I notice almost everyone is either mourning, or gossiping about how crazy this recent murder was. Especially after last years. You can tell some of them were Casey or Steves friends, while others are just excited that something is going on to talk about. I look down as I continue towards my locker, when suddenly, I feel someone grab my arm, hard and almost yank me forward. I look up to protest, and it's Stu. "Don't draw attention..." he says with a suggestive tone, and obviously fake smile plastered across his face. "...just walk." I obey, afraid of any retaliation if I didn't, and I walk beside him. We walk past my next class and down the janitors corridor. A few eyes glare at us, but none linger for too long. I think everyones just too focused on the murders to care about regular school gossip. I should be too, but how can I ignore something like this?

He's everywhere to me but almost no where at the same time, it's almost impossible to not think about him for a second. We enter the same janitors closet we were in before, he leads me in with one hand before looking both ways and entering behind me. The rooms dark again, and I feel completely vulnerable just standing in the middle of it. He closes the door behind him, and I hear him slightly groan before he turns the light on, turning around to face me. I'm completely flustered again while I stare up at him, and he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear as I whimper beneath him. "Y/n..." he speaks to me softly, almost singing my name. He backs me up against a wall, and leans his hand against it, towering over me. My knees almost buckle from the music in my ears. My name coming out his mouth is almost dreamlike, and I pinch my thigh to make sure everything is real. "I know you made it on time to the Brew yesterday. I like that, you listen." he says, smirking as he gestures at me with his index finger. He taps me in my chest before letting it drag down my cleavage, past my belly, and almost at my pelvis.

"But, unfortunately I couldn't make it due to that little rumor you spread of us. I mean, Tatum was pretty pissed. A lot of things are out of my control when her rage is involved." He taunts me with this, playing with a loose strand of my hair in his fingers as he maintains eye contact with me, the slyest grin on his face. " I mean..." he pushes himself off the wall, stepping away from me as he begins to circle the room. "I know you've had feelings for me for some time now, but maybe I should've emphasized how much secrecy would be important in this situation." He completely faces me now, "I thought, maybe I'd be able to trust you?" His question sounds almost threatening, but a frown is plastered across his face, and his eyes are soft as he continues to look at me. "It wasn't m-me Stu. I-I would never discuss anything w-we do to anyone, I mean, I d-don't speak to a lot of people here."

"Then who do you speak to?" His demeanor hardens now. He looks me up and down, almost like he's trying to read me, "I mean, n-not really a-anybody. No one. I swear." I find myself being awfully eager to please him, and I loosen my shoulders as the last word leaves my mouth. He sucks in his breathe before mumbling a small, "mmm" placing his hand on his chin as he says it, almost smiling before he says, “I had a good feeling I could trust you then.” He’s smirking as he says this, and anger begins to boil inside of me. How can he even accuse me of being untrustworthy, when just yesterday he left me waiting for him in a Brew, alone for 3 hours! How could he even sit here and stare at me like I'm the problem here? "W-what about me?" I manage to spew out, almost in a whisper, but he hears me. He begins to slowly walk towards me, "What about you?" he asks me, leaning back against the wall over me. I hesitate at first, scared of where this could go, but he grabs my cheeks with his right hand, lifting my face up to look at him. "Speak." His face is inches from mine, and I close my eyes. Moaning silently as I bite my lip, wishing he'd just kiss me already and forget about fucking Tatum. I open my eyes before I continue, completely flustered at his domineering demeanor towards me.

"I thought I could t-t-rust you last night, you left me stranded there alone for 3 hours. It was so emba-"

"You waited for me for 3 hours? " He snorts almost, and my face burns completely as it forms a snarl, gritting my teeth before I mutter, "fuck you." I begin to push past him.

"Yeah, I'm looking forward to it huh? Hey!”

Before I can exit the room, he grabs my arm, hard. I wince at the pain and franticly look up at him, shocked at the sudden aggression. "D-dont...you walk away from me." He says, calmy. His eyes are closed as he says it, but he opens them to look at me, his smile is gone and his stare leaves my heart pounding out of my chest. I swallow as I look back up at him, and he swings me back up against the wall before grabbing both my shoulders. "I'm...sorry. OK. I should've let you know somehow that I couldn't make it. That was on me, that was my fuck up." He maintains eye contact with me the whole time as he says this, sweat beads begin to form on his forehead and his lips are almost dripping with spit. "Just...don't-walk away from me. We aren't done talking." His head is slightly tilted to the side, but he slowly lets go of my shoulders before he begins to run his hands along my arms. "Now, let's make this date happen, huh? Tonight's not a good night for me unfortunately..." he says, tilting his head to the side as he grits his teeth and widens his eyes, but he smirks as he continues.

"...but tomorrow, after school ofcourse, we can meet. Finally. Let's say, your house around 9." I purse my lips, wanting to protest at the time stated but too afraid for his reaction. "Be a good girl and agree...right?" He says, rubbing his thumb against my bottom lip as he gently nods his head, waiting for me to do the same. I slowly nod my head as my lip quivers. "Good." He slowly inhales as he drags his finger down my lip, to my chin and down my throat. He lets it trail along my collar bone before he leans in, I feel his breathe against my neck as he rests his hand on my shoulder . "I'll make sure to make it up to you tomorrow night." His breathe lingers against my ear, and I close my eyes before accidently moaning aloud. I quickly open my eyes as I purse my lips together, and my heart begins to beat through my chest and out my ass. I quickly clear my throat as I look down, and he backs up before chuckling slightly. "Don't feel the need to hide that later on, ok?" He says, smirking as he bites his lip, exiting the room. I'm left standing there alone again in a puddle of my own juices. Could he be anymore of a tease? I take my hair out its ponytail, as I migraine attacks my skull. Why does he have to be so confusing? And why am I so turned on by it? I run my fingers through my hair, replaying the entire moment. It was supposed to be a moment of power for me, but instead I surrendered to him, just as Tatum did yesterday. But, it's almost like I couldn't resist him, like I had to obey him. Who am I kidding? Why even spend this entire experience being upset with him over one small accident, when I could instead enjoy this entire moment in it's glory?

Stu Macher was finally speaking to me and there was no way I was letting one little form of miscommunication get in the way of this ecstasy ride. I mean, whatever time was wasted yesterday will be made up tomorrow night, right? I inhale sharply as I run my hands over my face, squinting my eyes together as I swallow. Ok, get it together. I take one last breathe in, before exiting the janitors closet. As I enter the school hallway, I realize I meant to tell him my address. Shit, then my parents will be home...I sigh, realizing this might not go as dreamlike as I hoped it would. The late bell rings and I pick up my pace as I head to my next class, I have to figure out a way to get my address to him, I have to make tomorrow night happen, I have to finally spend time with him. I mentally face palm, angry at how flustered I was in the moment that I didn't even tell him my address. How could I let that important piece of information slide? Ok, I have the rest of this school day and tomorrow to get my address to him. It has to happen, not matter what, there can't be another miscommunication that gets in the way of us. That gets in the way of my future.

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dedicatemyhearttoyou · 5 months

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AoT Actor au - Group chats hcs

this started out with me thinking about how the kids would be begging Levi around S2 for his number, to add him into a group chat and him refusing and it turned out into a whole bunch of silly hcs. enjoy <3

Aot actor au hc:

There are multiple group chats/text chains that the actors are part of and all of them are surprisingly active with no sign of dying down soon (even after the end of the show)

the first of these groups was the kid's group chat, all of the main 104th squad was in it. It's the oldest and perhaps the one going the strongest

around the second half of S2, another group chat was added, fittingly titled "Survey Corps", which includes the kids and the leader/corp vets (Erwin, Hanji, Levi, Miche, and their respective squads)

Levi was the last to be added, only at the last end of S2 or perhaps even at the start of S3

the reason? He didn't want the kids (who were at the beginning still very young and reckless) to have his number and mess around with it. For it to accidentally get leaked would have been just a huge hassle and Levi did not want to deal with that

that being set he warmed up to the group chat very much

the kids were all very nervous to be in a chat with those older actors so they started out very polite, texting as little as possible

which all changed during S3 when the group got much more active

it's quite like a family group chat, with all of them not only talking about the show and their scenes but also about things going on in their private lives

Engagement news and the birth of some of the castmate's children were announced there just as much as they would have done so in private, emphasizing the family feel

on someone's birthdays, the group is the most active, bordering on annoying or even spamming

at some point, it became a tradition to spam the chat with memes and funny pictures of the birthday member, which turned mostly into a contest between Connie, Sasha, and Jean to send in the best, most ridiculous picture

the amount of blackmail material in that chat is hilarious and scary at the same time

Hanji and Mikasa always end up having the best photos though, with everyone wondering how they managed to capture such weird, funny, and mostly outright ugly candids of their fellow castmates

Armin specializes in nap-tures as they dubbed it (standing for nap pictures, aka of everyone sleeping on set)

No one has been able to get a picture of Levi sleeping

Eren might be the one with the most sleeping pictures, with almost all of the cast having taken at least one of him before

during S4 the warriors also get their own group chat, mainly because at first they weren't "allowed" in the Survey Corps one

until someone one day changed the name from "Survey Corps" to "Alliance" and added them all in

it's a running gag for Floch to be regularly kicked out and then added in again

the same goes for Zeke, who mainly gets kicked out by Levi and added in again by anyone else

at some point, they tried to establish a digital swear jar since Gabi & Falco were still rather young and some of the older cast had a bad habit of excessively swearing in their messages

the effort lasted for a whopping 3 days during which enough money was collected for the cast on set to have a giant cake

a cake so big they all got sick of trying to eat the leftovers for what felt like a week straight, which is when the digital swear jar was discontinued

#aot #aot actor au #headcanons #group chats #aot headcanons #snk #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin

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choccyhearts · 6 months

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Lollipop Chainsaw // Steve Harrington x Reader

Note: is this too niche of an idea? i originally thought of this as an eddie fic until i realized, no, steve fits the profile for handsome jock obviously, and he would love any kind of sexy couples costume with his partner <3 (also this idea came to me because i thought it'd be sooo hot but awful irl)

CW: 18+!! Suggestive and spicy but not smut, fem!reader, light soft!dom!reader/sub!steve dynamic, steve is in LOVE, modern!steve but only cause of the video game, plzz lemme know if i missed anything!

Here's the costume btw:

♡

Steve wasn't ever really into Halloween. He did all the traditions, but it wasn't a time of year he was dying to celebrate. As he got older, he liked it for the reasons young people like it -- drinking and sexy costumes. Not that he didn't have a sweet tooth too, though.

But once he started dating you, he quickly discovered how serious people could take the holiday. Not that he was complaining. He thought it was adorable, the way your face lit up when you'd see a pumpkin or skeleton in front of someone's home, or how excited you'd get when you were making your autumn treats. And it meant he had a wide variety of dates he could take you on -- haunted houses, hay rides, pumpkin picking, picnics.

He also helped you decorate, putting up the really high stuff like spider webs and lights. He loved how big your smile was when you saw your vision come true thanks to his help. He may not love Halloween, but he sure loves you, so I guess he loves Halloween by association.

But when it came to picking out a costume, something he was excited to do, you had other plans. He wanted to do something cheesy and coupley or sexy and totally hot. He'd always thought it would be cute to have the couples' costume experience for just one night. A silent way of showing you off to everyone, making sure they know you're only his.

You, however, told him that you already knew what you were going to be and it was going to be a surpise. Steve knew he was going to like whatever you pick, but he couldn't help but feel a little bummed that another Halloween was going to come and go and he once again wasn't going to live out his couples costume fantasy.

So, now he lay on your bed, tossing a stress ball into the air and catching it while you're in the bathroom. It's Halloween weekend, and there's a party you're both excited for. Steve decided to go without costume, not having come up with a good idea soon enough. You asked him sweetly over the phone to wear his old Hawkins varsity jacket and the pair of jeans that hugged his ass and bulge nicely but refused to clue him in why.

A sigh leaves Steve's lips, his eyes lazily following the stress ball as it soars and drops over and over again. It had been almost half an hour, and you were still in the bathroom. He was getting antsy, wanting to check in and see if you were okay. He knew it took girls a while in the bathroom (though it could be argued he takes just as long), so he just assumed you were trying to fix your hair or makeup.

"Babyyy, are you almost finished?" His voice comes out whinier than he wants, but it still gets his point across.

"Almost, Stevie. I promise it'll be worth it," you call to him lovingly.

You stare at yourself in the mirror, adjusting your belt. You knew this idea was perfect, and you were counting down the days until you could reveal it. Your eyes drift over your body in the mirror, donning a Juliet Starling costume.

When it came to picking out the perfect costume idea to surprise Steve with, you wanted something that would take his breath away and wrap him even tighter around your finger. Most sexy couples costumes were good, but you didn't want to be the third Morticia and Gomez at a party. You wanted something you figured no one else would wear, and after playing the game, Lollipop Chainsaw, you knew it was the perfect costume.

Steve hums softly to himself, mind blanking as he continues waiting. You walk into your room, and like a puppy, Steve sits up putting all of his attention on you. He smiles at you, heart racing as he looks at your cute appearance, standing in front of him with your hair in two pig tails and makeup done softly.

"You look sooo pretty, baby," Steve grins, face flushed and eyes shining.

"You can't even see my costume," you tease, as you've hidden it under a robe.

"Doesn't matter, still look pretty," he blinks slowly, very love drunk.

"Well, you look handsome too, my love." You walk to him, standing between his legs as you set your hands on his shoulders. He lets out a 'mmm' and brings his face against your stomach, needing to just melt into you. You delicately drag your nails against his neck, not wanting to mess up his styled hair.

"My handsome, adorable lover boy," you coo before pulling away. He tightens his arms around you and grunts in response.

"No, wanna stay like this," his voice is muffled as he speaks against your body.

"Don't you wanna see my costume? I wanna see yours." You successfully free yourself and take a couple steps back.

"Yeah, speaking of, why did I need to wear this?"

You don't answer verbally. Instead, untying your robe and sliding it off your body, revealing the cute blue and pink cheerleading uniform. You let the robe fall to the floor as you do a small spin to let Steve look at all of you. His eyes widen and get shinier as he refuses to blink, his mouth parting in an 'o' shape. Lights are on, but no one's home.

"What do you think? Isn't it cute?"

Your little boyfriend can't even hear you, his brain too occupied drinking in your seductive beauty. All he can think about is how mouth-watering your thighs look, how soft and plush your tits look, how he could just barely see your ass when you turned. He wants to keep staring but he also wants to touch you.

"Stevie?" You walk forward and use two fingers to guide his chin to look up at you.

He blinks a few times, involuntary tears falling as his eyes rehydrate.

"I'm sorry, baby, what did you say?"

"Do you like it?"

He pulls you against him again and groans loudly.

"You kidding, me? I looove it, I mean it. I fucking love it," his hands squeeze your ass which makes you jump. You bite back a moan, not wanting to let him distract you.

"Thank you, sweetie." You kiss the top of his head. "And now, for the other surprise!"

"Another surprise? Baby, I don't think my heart can take it."

"Come on, you'll reallyyy like this one," you say in a sing-songy tone.

"Well, I reallyyy like this one, just fine," he mimicks you. "So why don't we just stay here, put on a scary movie, and I show you a few tricks of my own."

He holds your left wrist and begins kissing up your arm, knowing it's your weakness. You hum happily, always enjoying getting loved on by him. His lips are soft and gentle as they stamp your skin over and over again. But his efforts are useless.

"Nope, nope. Let me show you the other half of the costume." You pull off as he gripes at you.

You go into your closet and pull out a thick, neck brace looking collar with a metal loop on the back. You keep it hidden behind your back from Steve as you walk back to him.

"So, you've never played this game, but our costumes are inspired by two characters from a game called Lollipop Chainsaw. I'm Juliet, the protagonist, a zombie hunting cheerleader, and you get to be her football player jock boyfriend."

"I see why you asked me to wear this now."

"There's just one thing about her boyfriend."

"Is he zombie?"

"No, actually, Juliet saves him by decapitating him."

"So you're asking to decapitate me," Steve asks with heavy sarcasm lacing his tone.

"No." You roll your eyes before pulling the collar from behind your back, and Steve eyes it confused. You walk towards him and motion it to him, asking if he'll let you put it on him. He nods, trusting you and remembering you said he'd like it. You've never steered him wrong yet. What's the harm?

You unclasp the collar and begin to gently wrap it around Steve's neck.

"After she decapitates him, she does a spell to keep him alive. And, for the rest of the game, she needs to keep him safe."

You click the collar shut and allow Steve to make any adjustments. Once he confirms he's comfortable, you continue.

"So, she keeps him with her by attaching him to her belt."

You turn and show him you have a clip attached to the side of your belt. You look at Steve as he slowly makes the connection of what you're asking him to do.

"So, I thought, obviosuly not for the entire night, you could stay clipped to me. And it stretches too, see?" You demonstrate that the clip is on a stetchy wire. "So if you need to move around you can."

He stays quiet, an unreadable look on his face. Your face heats and stomach drops. This is not going how you thought it would. You knew Steve wanted to do a couples costume and you should've just planned it with him instead of trying to surprise him and-

Steve slides off your bed and down to his knees. He shuffles over and grips your leg, looking up at you with pleading eyes. This was somehow better than anything he could've imagined. He should've known you'd do something so thoughtful.

♡

And that's how you end up walking around a party with a large prop chainsaw in one hand and your lovesick boyfriend Steve attached at the hip, literally. His big, strong hands grabbing and groping you anytime he needs a Halloween treat (the real reason you picked this costume) and soft, wet mouth biting your ass and thighs anytime he wants a trick.

Unsurprisingly, he stays attached the entire night!! He sits on his knees while you mingle and talk to your friends, lays his head on your lap when you sit on the couch, and chooses to just stumble over his feet while you walk around --and yes, he does need to grab your ass cheek while you move, how else is he supposed to hold on???

It's safe to say Steve's favorite holiday is now Halloween...

#stranger things #st4 #steve stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #lollipop chainsaw #choccyhearts

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sailorspica · 3 months

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hitch is jean in a different font

i might have a new WIP or two cooking, and one of them has me vibrating and combing over canon to make this argument: hitch as jean's shadow, their parallel journeys, her growth only a few months behind his. marlowe as a kind of marco, stohess as her trost.

for me it's all toward a reijean / hitchannie agenda but pray any hitch and jean stans appreciate:

we meet hitch as an almost-jean: well-aware of what the military police actually is. pragmatic. in the anime's expansion of stohess, jean looks at the MPs scrambling and thinks, "i could've actually been one of them too, huh? just how did i end up here instead?"

the scene of marlowe and hitch cleaning up stohess is another anime addition, in the s2 premiere. marlowe is bewildered that titans were in sina to begin with, but hitch's focus is more mundane: "the worst thing about it all is that so many people died for no good reason." the hulu subtitles are more like "there's no official reason all these people died." levi echoes the sentiment in 59 when he bluntly tells them annie was the female titan: "no one knows a damn thing."

levi trusts jean to feel them out for a reason, and i think hitch impressed him way more than marlowe. he respects her disgust for loss of life, and her balls to blame the survey corps for it. she's actually a mini nile dawk there, to me, when nile realizes what erwin is up to in stohess, and it makes me think that jean's pragmatism is a necessary injection of the MPs' better traits into the suicidal SC. that it's in the same chapter as jean and armin recovering from their run-in with the interior squad is telling.

in the 125 hitch/annie date, annie is looking up at the colossals, and hitch literally grounds her. annie is struck by their height, maybe she thinks of bertolt, maybe she's thinking of her mission to prevent this from happening, but hitch doesn't give a shit about the titans themselves, only what they leave in their wake. it feels similar to jean telling eren about marco's death in 22. marco instilled in jean that a leader is honest about what they ask people to die for; hitch is disgusted by the senselessness of the death her whole career has been about cleaning up.

i think it's easy to look at hitch yawning among the jaegerists in 139 as a bit of her cockroach quality—keeping her head down and saluting along for her survival among fascists, like shadis advises the recruits who beat him (also in 125). but we have seen her demonstrate such kindness, and mourn. practically, she must be pissed that the junta she and marlowe risked themselves to install has been totally upended; she stands by her actions in the uprising arc, look at how she and armin witness zackly's assassination. but beyond that, she hates death more than anything. she could reason that marlowe's death was toward something tangible, the truth of their world, but that it snowballed into the death of most of the world? the rumbling is probably a national holiday to those freaks. it's ghoulish to her.

for my ship agenda (even if you're into these relationships only platonically):

hitch talking to annie's crystal feels like jean saving reiner in shiganshina. everyone else was ready to discard or forget about these traitors, but hitch, jean, and armin all cling to the softness they couldn't reconcile with annie and reiner's titan forms. with what he thought were his dying breaths, reiner delivered ymir's letter. on her day off, in Wall Sina, Goodbye, annie kept her word, and tried to reunite a father and daughter. hitch might have negged her for it, seen it as busy work, but it's the same kindness she bullied marlowe for, if carefully buried under annie's insistence that it was just the quid pro quo between them.

idc that armin talked to her, too, or he knew her longer. hitch fuckin mourned her!! and i think being angry with annie, questioning her for four years, is way, way more humanizing than armin basically monologuing at her while feeling sorry for himself and bertolt and titan shifters generally. (this sounds like i hate armin but swear i love him; i just think aruani is most interesting when bertolt is involved.)

hitch accurately clocks that annie seemed afraid of getting close to people. her own fellow cadets just thought of her as distant, bored; when hange asks the scouts in the 104th about RBA's interactions as cadets, they're at a loss, even armin. even her fellow warriors didn't really see her. annie's distance was a kindness, and her own armor. she sees reibert's deep cover as a waste of time, but i think she also sees they're bound to hurt themselves and their mission in the long run. even though everyone felt betrayed after stohess, reiner was a greater shock, a deeper wound. i think annie wanted to minimize hurt on all fronts. (look how she dips out of the alliance, it's because she's tired, and doesn't want to kill eren, or anyone.)

jean comes to understand reiner only after he and connie and armin have to kill their 104th classmates at the pier. hitch can't fully fathom annie's circumstances or pain, especially not annie saying she'd do it all again, but hitch listens to it all and thanks her for the vulnerability, for softening, which is more compassion than most of the paradis side of the alliance has managed so far. she has a head start on the emotional strides jean makes in between 127 and 133, maybe because she got a bit of catharsis beating her fists against annie's crystal for four years.

they're both sick of their shit

#hitchannie #hitch dreyse #jean kirchstein #hitch x annie #reiner x jean #aot meta #hitch is levi's favorite MP #♃#aottxt #reijean #jeanbo #snk 125 #snk 59

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slaasherslut · 2 years

Text

Well you've got my attention now

Summary: Making Bo jealous by dressing up and acting like a total whore in front of some tourists gives you the best orgasm you've ever had Warnings: smut, forced orgasm, squirting 1.6k words

Bo was punishing you. You thought it would be a fun idea to mess with some tourists that were down in Bo's shop to get attention from him. You had walked in and immediately knew you were in trouble with Bo by the scowl on his face, but you wanted to have some fun first. A tiny pair of jean shorts and a tank top that left almost nothing to the imagination, if you moved too harshly your chest would definitely spill out over the low neckline of the shirt. Today, it was a group of three college boys and you were ready to get things going. You would "accidentally" drop things, forcing you to bend over, standing with your arms in a way that pushed your breasts together, and a lot of arm touching and giggling. When Bo finally had enough and pulled you aside, harshly whispering in your ear: "Get the fuck home before I throw ya in the goddamn pit like fuckin' roadkill."

You had rushed home and waited on your shared bed until Bo had returned. While waiting you had examined your outfit a bit closer in the full length mirror you had gotten as a gift from Vincent. He had taken a basic mirror and created a beautiful frame for it with a mixture of different mediums. The Louisiana heat had caused a bit of sweat to glisten your skin and your shorts had ridden up, allowing so much of your ass to hang out of the bottom. You didn't dress like this for those lame tourists who were probably dying right now, it was for Bo. You loved when all of his attention was on you, you craved it, you thrived off of his hungry eyes trailing you up and down.

You were surprised that within the hour the door slammed open and shut and heavy boot steps stomped up the stairs and threw the bedroom door open.

Within no time Bo had you crushed between the wall of your shared bedroom and his chest. He kept you held in place with his forearm held tightly under your chin. His other hand was shoved into your tight jean shorts, rubbing aggressive circles on your clit.

"You keep moanin' s'damn loud the whole house'll hear ya." A mischievous smirk fell across his lips. "Unless that's what ya want."

"You want my brothers to know whose dick you'll be cummin' on, huh?"

A dark chuckle escapes his lips as he continues his brutal pace. You know you're gonna be in for a bad time but you have no idea what he has planned for you. Will he not let you cum? Smack you around a little bit? Degrade you? You had no idea. As the worry runs through your head a light bulb goes off in his. He sees the mirror out of the corner of his eye and gets an evil idea.

Grabbed you by the hips and manoeuvred you to the other side of the room across from the mirror. He had a nasty smile across his face. Your shorts and panties were torn off in one swift movement. Bo huffed and positioned himself so he was facing the mirror and sat down on the hardwood floor. He pulled you onto his lap, back against his broad chest and spread your thighs wide. The image reflected back in the mirror was so lewd, you almost couldn't look. Your eyes wandered away from the mirror. Bo noticed and gave your thigh a harsh slap. The action caused your thighs to close slightly and he spread them even wider with his feet, holding them open. Bo let out a dark chuckle and grabbed your chin, forcing yourself to face the mirror.

"No, no, no. I wan' you t'see everythin', Darlin'. Ya cant even look at yourself but ya want everyone else to look at you."

You shook your head no as a harsh blush manifested across your cheeks. Bo chuckled.

"If ya didn't want everyone to eye fuck you than why did ya dress like that, hm?"

You shook your head again, trying to collect your words.

"N-not everyone, just you." Your voice trailed off and became small. If Bo wasn't pressed against you he probably wouldn't have heard you.

He chuckled, placing wet kisses from your shoulder and up to the spot right below your ear which he gave a playful nip at the sensitive skin.

"Aw darlin', you're too cute, dressin' like a common whore to get my attention."

Bo ran his large hands over your thighs, gently caressing the sore spot he slapped earlier.

"Well you've got my attention now, and I think I want you to pay attention to me now."

Your soaking cunt was on full display. You could see your clit, puffy and red from the large amount of need you felt in your lower core for the mechanic behind you. Your hole was dripping like a faucet. The image of yourself so open and ready caused you to clench around nothing. Bo’s huge hands came around your body to rub harsh circles on your clit. It was so fast and hard, your body couldn't control itself. You tried to squirm away from his touch but he had locked you in place. There was no where to go. You could feel the heat build up in your core as his fingers kept working on you.

"B-Bo" you trembled, "I'm gonna c-cum!"

Bo pulled his fingers away and gave your pussy a hard spank. A pained moan escaped your lips, from the harshness of his action but also the lack of movement.

"Ya think you deserve to cum after that stupid stunt ya pulled earlier?" He harshly squeezed one of your nipples as a groan slipped past your lips. You quickly nodded. That wasn't quite the answer Bo was looking for which earned you another slap to your clit.

"Stupid whore, no fuckin' way. You don't deserve to cum after paradin' yourself around like that."

He viciously tore off your top, discarding it to god knows where. A hand began to harshly knead your breast while two thick fingers bullied themselves in your wet cunt without warning. A shrill squeal left you at the feeling of the intrusion. Two fingers worked themselves deep inside you while his thumb began to rub at your clit again. You knew Bo was big all over but you didn't expect just his fingers alone to stretch you like this. Your walls were squeezing his fingers so tight. He let out a moan against the back of your neck.

"Your pussy can barely even take my fingers, what makes you think my cock wont ruin you, huh?"

His words melt you like honey in your favourite tea. You slink into his touch and lean your head back against his shoulder on instinct.

"Hey!" Bo growls in your ear. Your head shot upright. "Was I not fuckin' clear enough the first fuckin' time!? Eyes forward, doll, don't make me say it again."

There's so much stimulation happening at once, its all too much, too much! A shrill cry you've been trying to hold back breaks out of your throat and fills the room around you. Bo's name erupting like a prayer. When he's inside you its angelic, but right now, his ruthlessness was something demonic. Something was building up inside you. The knot inside you was wound so tight and you felt like you were about to explode. He added a third finger inside of you and relentlessly fucked you open on his hand. The new stretch was too much. You tried your hardest not to cum but it was too difficult. You screamed out as liquid gushed out of you, coating the mirror in your slick. You could barely make out your reflection anymore, the mirror was soaking wet. Bo's hand stilled inside you as he let out a laugh in disbelief.

"Do that again, Darlin'." His voice got real low as a wide smile spread across his face, his hand started moving again.

"Cum on my fingers. Do it. Do it. Gush all over my hand Darlin', i know you can handle one more."

You let out a loud cry.

"I-I cant! I-Its too m-much! Bo!"

"I know baby, I know its a lot, but do it just one more time f'me and then you're done."

His fingers moved faster and faster and fucked into you harder and harder. You were practically seeing stars. That familiar feeling was bubbling up again. The only thing you could muster up in terms or vocabulary was a string of incomprehensible nonsense.

"I was gonna make you go dumb on my cock but I guess mah fingers work just as fine, Darlin'"

The feeling inside you was almost at its peak. The impending pleasure was much faster this time, and more aggressive, just like the hands that gave you said pleasure. This time you didn't hold anything back. Liquid gushed out of you as Bo fingered you through your final orgasm.

"Fuck yah pretty girl cum f'me."

His fingers slowed to a stop as you collapsed backwards onto his chest. He slowly removed them before sliding them into you're mouth. You licked and sucked his messy digits clean, tasting your own juices he help coax out of you. He let out a whispered "good girl" as he removed his fingers and moved you off of him. Rising to his feet he wiped his spit covered hand on his pants.

"Now clean up your mess and get downstairs, I'm starving."

He walked out the bedroom door, leaving you alone on the floor in a puddle of your own pleasure.

☾ notes: i had this partially written already for another blog of mine but i figured the concept really suited bo. i hope it came out as good as i hoped it would

☾ tag list: @rottent33th

message me if you want to be added to my tag list!

#bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #house of wax 2005 #horror #house of wax #slasher fic #slasher fucker #slashers

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brightside-of-the-upsidedown · 9 months

Text

I'm not sure how I'll continue it yet, but this is the infamous pastel grunge punk!Steve I ended up writing instead of tentacles, so enjoy XD

Sparked by this beautiful post

By @discodeviant because while I was reading, Beggar's Song by Matt Maeson started playing in my head.

Steve looked into the backroom bathroom's cracked mirror and fixed his hair for the seventh time in the last thirty minutes. It was practically a ritual at this point when he was nervous. Well, maybe it'd become his lucky thing after tonight.

He brushed the hair away from his face and clicked his tongue ring pensively. From one side, his new haircut still had his usual thick brown voluminous waves with highlights that nearly brushed his shoulder. From the other side, he'd had it trimmed down into a disconnected undercut and dyed baby pink. He'd originally been planning on dying all of his hair pink and getting both sides shaved, but had chickened out. He'd still been thrilled by the outcome though.

Or at least he had loved it just this morning. But would everyone else? Had he made a mistake and fucked up one of the only good things about him-

A fist banged on the door and Robin's voice came through the door. "Come on, dingus, you're already pretty. Stop spiraling and let's go!"

Steve smiled and let her in. "Aw, Buckley, I'm pretty? Even pretty enough for you?"

Robin snorted and wrinkled her nose. "Don't push it. Now get your ass up on stage before it escapes those pants and makes a run for it. You're never going to throw those out, are you?"

Steve looked down at his worn thin jeans and yeah, maybe they were a bit tighter than usual in the ass, but their new apartment had a lot of stairs, okay! Despite it being almost more holes than pants, they were comfortable and definitely something his parents would never have let him wear when he'd still been under his dad's thumb. So of course that made them his favorite.

He turned and washed his hands once more. Robin let out a choking noise and pointed at his ass. "That's a new hole."

For a split second, Steve thought she was talking about something else until she poked at a spot on his ass not covered by the pants. There was a new hole in his jeans that showed off a not small peek of his ass and thigh. But it was low enough that Steve wasn't too worried about it.

"Buy a guy dinner first, jeez." Steve teased her.

She just slapped his ass. "Yeah, sure, I know a great little place on Easy Street called Cafe Puttana."

"Did you just call me a whore in my own mother tongue, Buckley?!" Steve gasped dramatically. "And maybe if you dressed like this more often, you'd stop having to resort to handing out free drinks to get a girl's attention." Steve hip checked her as she giggled at him and opened the door. "Now let's get this show on the road before everyone notices their favorite bartenders are both missing. My public awaits." He adjusted his pink jean vest over his Nirvana t-shirt as he stepped out, still picking, still-

"Your 'public' is a bunch of drunks, punks, burnouts, and half dead partiers." Robin hugged him from behind just before they got to the stage in the bar. "So don't let the nerves get you. Just have fun and sing me a song, piano man."

That got a genuine laugh out of him. "I'm no Billy Joel, but I'll see what I can do, uptown girl."

Robin went up on stage to announce him. She hyped him up as best she could given her audience and got a not too bad round of applause. Steve wasn't expecting much, this was a gig he'd just gotten only because he worked at the bar and the band that had been scheduled to play had canceled. He usually worked as their bartender and he was good at it. He probably wouldn't have gotten either job if Robin hadn't stepped up to bat for him.

Steve practiced his breathing exercises as the players they could find on such short notice got ready. He stepped up on stage, gave a friendly wave to the regulars who recognized and cheered for him.

He took a seat at the piano he'd had to tune himself before the show because it got so little use.

"Hey, you bunch of vagrants and drains on society." His words were met with proud hoots and hollers. "It's me, Steve, your favorite bartender." This was met with a loud boo from the bar, Robin playfully heckling him.

"That bunch of assholes the boss hired canceled, yeah, I know. So you get me instead, aren't you lucky? Usually you have to buy a drink to get to listen to my dulcet tones." Steve grinned as the crowd booed, whistled, and catcalled. "So enjoy the music, I wrote it myself. Yeah, that's right, fuck you, I have layers. Or if you don't like it, just shut the fuck up and enjoy the view you bunch of pervs." More catcalls.

Steve signaled the players and waited a moment, waiting for his cue, as they played the intro. They weren't bad for only two days of practice.

Jesus, come talk to me

I am but a blind mess, I am wild and free

I know that I need us more than I need me

One more whiskey, I am wild and free

Steve started playing as he continued singing.

Oh, but I'm a beat-down, washed-up son of a bitch

I got one more cigarette and all my money is spent

But I'ma be damned if I let it keep me down

Oh yeah, I'm a beat-down, washed-up son of a bitch

I got one more cigarette and all my money is spent

But I'ma be damned if I let it keep me down

Steve didn't hear any hecklers, not that he thought anyone was that willing to get on Robin's Shit List, but he still didn't dare look up.

Oh, my mother Mary, come walk with me

I am on four drugs, I am wild and free

I know that I failed less, the less I knew me

Wander through the darkness, and come walk with me

Steve felt good about the beat and the band seemed to be really getting into it.

Oh 'cause I'm a beat down washed up son of a bitch

I got one more cigarette and all my money is spent

But I'll be damned if I let it keep me down

Ay, yeah

Yeah I'm a beat down washed up son of a bitch

I got one more cigarette and all my money is spent

But I'll be damned if I let it keep me down

Yeah, yeah

He timed his breathing as the band trailed into the chorus.

Oh yeah, I'm a beat-down, washed-up son of a bitch

I got one more cigarette and all my money is spent

But I'ma be damned if I let it keep me down, yeah, yeah

Oh, I'm a beat-down, washed-up son of a bitch

I got one more cigarette and all my money is spent

But I'ma be damned if I let it keep me down, yeah, yeah, yeah

Steve nodded and belted the post chorus.

You know that it's not over

It's okay to let yourself hurt

Swimming in the murky water

Won't you come on out? Yeah, yeah

You know that it's not over

It's okay to let yourself hurt

Swimming in the murky water

Won't you come on out? Yeah, yeah

We sing a beat-down, washed-up beggar's song

And we sing it even louder when the money is gone

Because we'll be damned if we let it keep us down, yeah, yeah

Oh, I'm a beat-down, washed-up son of a bitch

I got one more cigarette and all my money is spent

But I'ma be damned if I let it keep me down, yeah, yeah, yeah

Steve blinked his eyes open when he felt a bit of an echo- no, there were people singing along. He recognized Robin's off key voice and smiled. Steve sang out the lyrics with his whole chest.

You know that it's not over

It's okay to let yourself hurt

Swimming in the murky water

Won't you come on out? Yeah, yeah

You know that it's not over

It's okay to let yourself hurt

Swimming in the murky water

Won't you come on out? Yeah, yeah

He could hear a lot more voices raise with his as he sang the last chorus as the band tapered off. "Come on, beggers!"

We sing a beat-down, washed-up beggar's song

And we sing it even louder when the money is gone

Because we'll be damned if we let it keep us down, yeah, yeah

Oh, I'm a beat-down, washed-up son of a bitch

I got one more cigarette and all my money is spent

But I'ma be damned if I let it keep me down

For an embarrassing moment, Steve thought he might fucking cry at the roars from the bar. Yeah, it was a few dozen regulars, drunkards, and partiers blitzed out of their minds, but it was leagues above his self doubt's worst case scenario. He had to swallow hard more than once before he felt confident enough to talk into the mic again.

"See, that wasn't so bad, was it, you assholes?" Steve knew he was probably smiling like an idiot, but it was hard to care. "Give a hand to the band, they had like two days to fucking practice my crap, holy shit."

The bar clapped and yelled for them. The band looked pleased with the positive attention and a few waved back. One flipped off the audience much to their delight.

"Now, the rest of the songs are covers, the good shit, I promise." Steve announced. "So spend your fucking money, don't forget to tip, and enjoy."

They ended up playing some Nirvana, a little The Clash of course, Dead Kennedys, Siouxsie and the Banshees, through in a Motley Crüe song, and topped it off with his beloved Queen.

To Steve's honest surprise and giddiness, there was a demand for an encore of Beggar's Song. He led them through it one more time before ending for the night. Closing time was in less than an hour and he wanted to help Robin out with last call.

They got a decent amount of tips that he let the band take the lion's share of, but still got a sweet fifteen bucks on top of the thirty his boss had already paid him. He'd be able to buy some pretty good food for him and Robin this month.

That's all I got for now!

The backstory is Robin and Steve moved together somewhere after Robin got kicked out for coming out to her parents.

Maybe she stayed with Steve until her parents told his parents and they called to tell him to send her home, whatever. Robin and Steve decided to strip whatever they could from the house, sell it, sneak into her room while her parents were gone to pack, and they rode off into the sunset.

Now they have a shitty apartment, jobs at a shitty bar, and they've never been happier. ❤

I have plans to bring Billy and Eddie into it later.

Two Nights Ago

Robin: I volunteered you for a gig

Steve: I've only sang in front of you!

Robin: it's time to fly, I'm kicking you out of the nest, dingus

Steve: does this make you my mama bird?

-Robin throws a pillow at him-

Steve: how could you do this to your child!

#harle hums #they're little shits and i love them #robin buckley #steve harrington #punk steve harrington #punk steve au #future harringroveson #future metalsandwich

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jpnriikicore · 7 months

Text

── marlboro nights

paring nishimura riki x fem!reader, word count 647, genre fluff, ( masterlist )

a sigh escapes from your lips leaning back against your chair throwing your head back. you can’t stop think about your stupid best friend, nishimura riki who also goes by ni-ki. you simply had hatered for the boy since he was the source of not letting able to study properly. you truly dread having wake up tomorrow and go to school.

you have completely abandoned your textbooks and notes knowing that you aren’t going to stop thinking about the boy anytime soon. you just have to hope and pray that you don’t miserable fail the test tomorrow.

you remembered a few days ago you and riki was walking from school back to your house. you was doing homework that your teacher assigned writing down answers on the piece of paper. riki placed his hands on your upper arms moving you over to the other side of the street.

to everyone else who saw the sight of you two. they would have known that riki was completely head over the hills for you but you was to obvious to notice that.

the short moment you glanced up at him. you breathe got caught in your throat. he was wearing his school uniform: black jacket with the school logo, white dressed shirt, black tie, black pants, and black boots. his dyed jet black hair that looks almost blue when it shines in the sun that compliments his melanin skin tone with moles decorating his face.

what you didn’t know was riki was in the exact position - well not exact. riki turned over to his side for the fourteen hundredth time that night. instead of trying to get some sleep riki couldn’t help but want to stay up all night and think about you his best friend, y/n.

at first he felt guilty even about thinking about his best friend in such a way but as time went on he became ok with the feelings he was having.

pushing the covers off his body sitting up on the edge of his bed. his eyes darted around his dark dingy room landing on a polaroid of you. he stood up from his bed and walked over to his mirror. gently pulled the polaroid off his mirror looking down at the photo soft smiling at said memory.

you two rode the bike you guys used to ride all the time a few years back to the park a few minutes away to go gaze at the dark sky littered with bright stars and crest moon. you just looked so pretty in that moment your hair blowing through the slight wind and the moonlight illuminating on your skin.

you was wearing most of his clothes: his black leather jacket that was a bit too big for you, his black hoodie that you stole one night, black jeans that are a bit bigger at the bottom, and the converses you wore everywhere. that’s when he sneaked a picture of you.

he opened his bedroom table drawer finding a marlboro pack of cigarettes getting one from the almost empty pack searching for a lighter. he remembered that you always have one on hand. you didn’t smoke or anything like him but always had one for when it came useful. on school grounds he would always go to you knowing that you would have one.

finally finding one not the one he was looking for but it would do. flicking the flame to light the yellow part of his cigarette hanging from his mouth. tossing the lighter around in his hand he noticed on the side the initials n.y in faded black marker was on it.

he remembered when you lost this lighter and he found it but never told you he did as he wanted to keep it as a token of you. n standing for nishimura and y standing for y/n.

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honey-minded-hivemind · 2 months

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ok what about a reader who keeps dying and reincarnating a few years in the past, and they keep trying to fix everything but it doesn’t work.

And the like 20th time all of the other mutants somehow remember all the other times as well?

I don’t mind what media you pick, any is cool :)

(I feel like you may have written something like this already and I’m really sorry if you did)

Oooo! Yes, you requested an au idea! Let's try it:

The farthest back you can remember is about... the 1800s... In a place full of trees, mountains, and endless snow, all locked in freezing valleys and forests. The first two mutants you met then were a pair of brothers, one tall and blonde, one short and fluffy. For the short time you were around, you were with them. In dens abdoned by large animals, cuddled together in the dead of night... By lakes and rivers, catching the bounty of summer... Drifting through the woods, tracking the herds of deer as they moved... Until one day, a group of hunters shot you, and you were gone-

Only to come to in a European country, filled with mad, angry people and a war growing bloodier by the day. You met a boy who controlled metal, and did your best to cheer him up. Then within a month, you were taken to a chamber, and then-

You're back in a new time, in a new place. This time around you grow a bit older, meeting a man who is a professor, who tries to help everyone and foster peace... and then there is the boy you had met in that cold, dreary past, now a man. The two are friends, partners, and they both want what's best- but in two entirely different ways, down two opposite paths. You last long enough to watch them split apart, and soon pass on from a bullet through the chest...

And the cycle keeps repeating.

You come into the world, only to remember your past lives, and try to make things different. Try to change the paths of the people you used to know.

You meet so many people. So many mutants.

Logan. Victor. Erik. Charles. Raven. Hank. Ororo. Scott. Jean. Remy. Piotr. Lance. Pietro. Wanda. Kitty. Fred. Todd. Anna. Kurt. Evan.

So many lives, so many ways it goes wrong.

It comes to a head when you've reincarnated into your latest life, finally living to be fifteen. You've never lived that long before. Never explored technology the way you can now. Never enjoyed the years without fear or weariness.

You miss being near the people you used to know. But... this time, maybe you should give them some space. The last few times you tried to interfere, you've only ended up dying. Be it by blade or bullet or poison, drowning or asphyxiation or crushed bones... You don't get to stay long, and they never believe you anyway. Even with proof. Even with knowledge no one else but you could know.

Logan lost his memories. Victor became more violent, more ruthless. Erik has embraced the darkness inside him, choosing to fight for mutant supremacy, rather than Charles' path of equality between the two. Raven followed Erik, doing wicked deed after wicked deed. Hank's a teacher now. Ororo has joined Charles and Logan as their friend. And you're a few years younger than the teens. You died in a accident when they were only about four years old, so they likely wouldn't remember you either.

Yet...

The moment they see you... Something seems to change with them. Something new.

When they look at you, it's like they're trying to figure something out. Like something isn't sitting right with them. It only seems to grow when one day the Professor and Logan show up due to the teens breaking out into a fight, and they see you pass by. For a moment it looks like they wanted to ask you something-

But you keep walking.

The next time you're on your own, you're approached. It's one of the older mutants, with a wary, almost fragile look to them.

"Do you know of anyone named-"

They ask for one of your old names, and there's only one answer you can give-

"Yes. Hey, love. It's been some time, hasn't it?" you answer softly.

And then you're being hugged tightly, pulled against them like you'll disappear. And you think that maybe-

Maybe this time you all will be okay.

(You don't notice their eyes darkening, the way their hands curl tighter, how they don't stop checking the pulse underneath their fingertips. They lost you once, and this time-

This time they aren't going to risk you again. Not their friend, not their loved one, not their sunshine. They're not sure they can go through losing them one more time... They won't make it if they do.)

#honeycomb thoughts #platonic yandere marvel #yandere platonic marvel #platonic yandere xmen #yandere x-men #platonic yandere #platonic yandere x reader #platonic yandere marvel x reader #platonic yandere xmen evolution

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bellaxgiornata · 11 months

Text

Falling For the Devil [Part sixty-three: "The Dinner Party"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: Marci and Foggy invite Karen, Matt, and you over to their apartment for dinner.

Or Some big truths come out.

[Series of one-shots about Reader meeting, falling for, and dating Matt Murdock.]

Warnings: 18+ for this series; contains humor, fluff, romance, angst, smut (like...a lot of it later in the series), language, some violence

Word Count: 3.3k

a/n: This installment brings back the sexual tension and has a bit of light angst in it. You can find the entire list of installments for this series on tumblr here. I have almost transferred over all of the series available so far!

Reaching past your plate, you picked up your glass of wine from the table as you focused on Karen seated across from you. “So how did that date end up going last night?” you asked her curiously, raising the glass to your lips. "I've been dying to know after all those heart eye emoji texts you sent Marci and I."

Karen’s fork pushed around the pasta on her plate, her cheeks reddening as her gaze dropped down to her food. Everyone else around Marci and Foggy’s dining table focused on Karen at your question. Under the table though, Matt’s hand was on your knee, his thumb tracing circles along it over the denim of your jeans.

Admittedly his presence beside you had been quite distracting tonight, especially with all of his little touches throughout the evening. Most likely it had been due to the fact that it had been nearing three weeks since Matt and you had made up. Despite that, you’d both continued to refrain from anything physically intimate since–which meant it had been over nine whole weeks since you’d last had sex. Both of you had agreed on not rushing things, especially because Matt was adamant about your injuries also needing to be fully healed before he would even consider that again. Though by now the cut on your collarbone and your arm had healed over, and the deep wound on your hip was no longer much of a concern.

Over the past few days you had found yourself thinking about it again, though neither of you had brought up the topic of sex yet. You supposed, though, that Matt could easily tell when you’d become aroused around him and he’d tried to be a gentleman and ignore it since you’d said nothing about the topic. You weren’t entirely sure when it would be alright to bring it up again, either, especially considering the situation around the last time you’d had sex being what it was. You felt like you were just about at that point where you were ready to include it back into your relationship again, but you didn’t exactly know where Matt stood with that.

“It was good,” Karen answered almost shyly, her voice drawing you back.

Her hair fell forward and curtained her face as she continued to avoid eye contact. Your left hand slipped under the table, coming to rest over the top of Matt’s hand on your right knee. Out of your peripheral you saw him shift closer to you in his seat.

“Just good?” Marci pressed.

Karen bit her lip, lightly shrugging a shoulder in response. “I mean, I like him. And it sort of sounds like there might be a second date,” she said.

“‘Bout damn time someone realized what a catch you are,” you told her.

Under the table, your fingers slipped through Matt’s, his thumb pausing its movements. You saw a faint smile draw its way onto his lips as he raised a forkful of pasta to his mouth. Ducking your head, you bit your own lip at the sight.

“I completely second that,” Marci agreed. “You deserve to find yourself a good man and be done dating these assholes you keep meeting.”

“You can say that again,” Karen breathed out, scooping up some pasta.

Absently twirling some pasta onto your own fork, your eyes hyper-focused on your mindless motions, you felt Matt’s hand shift underneath yours. He turned it so his palm was facing up now, his fingers entirely entwined with yours. A moment later you felt his foot gently tapping up against yours. A blush crept up your cheeks at the gesture and you continued biting your lip, trying to fight back the smile on your face. But when Marci abruptly called out your name, you practically startled in your seat. Your head darted in her direction, almost feeling like you and Matt had been caught flirting at the dinner table like a pair of kids, though really it didn’t matter.

“I was just saying,” Marci began, “that I’m glad you and Matt worked things out.”

“Oh, right,” you said, clearing your throat. “I’m–I mean, we’re pretty glad we did, too.”

Marci’s head tilted to the side, her eyes narrowing curiously. “What exactly did happen between you two?” she asked, gesturing her fork between you and Matt. “I never really understood. You broke up because of an argument that remained quite unspecified.”

“You know, it doesn’t really matter at this point,” you told her quickly, noticing how her eyes only narrowed further. “We’ve figured everything out so there’s no reason to bring that all back up.”

“Normally I’d agree,” she responded slowly, her intense focus making you nervous, “but I overheard Karen saying something to Foggy Bear about Daredevil saving you,” she continued, “and how that had somehow pissed Matt off?”

Matt’s hand tightened around yours instantly, your back stiffening in the chair. Across the table from you, Karen froze entirely. Her eyes remained downcast on her plate as she tried to avoid Marci’s piercing stare as it swept around the table. To Marci’s left, Foggy abruptly grabbed his glass of wine and quickly began downing the contents of it. Marci’s eyes continued to scan around all four of you suspiciously before she leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Alright, enough of this weirdness,” she shot. “You all act incredibly odd anytime Daredevil is mentioned. Clearly he played some sort of a role in whatever it was that broke you and Matt up,” she continued, gesturing at you and Matt across the table. “Tell me the truth already. You all know who Daredevil is, don’t you?”

No one spoke. An incredibly awkward and uncomfortable silence fell over the apartment as Marci impatiently looked at each one of you expectantly in turn. When her eyes landed back on you again, they suddenly went wide as she gasped.

“Oh my God,” she said, your heart feeling like it was going to jump out of your chest, “did you cheat on Matt with Daredevil? Is that what happened?”

Your jaw about hit the floor, your own eyes widening in surprise. “ What ?” you nearly shrieked in response. “No! How could you even suggest that?”

“Well I don’t know!” Marci snapped back. “You’re all clearly hiding something from me! I’ve known that for a while now and I’ve tried to ignore it but honestly, I can’t anymore! Someone just tell me what the hell is going on!”

Reluctantly Matt’s hand released yours under the table. He cleared his throat loudly, straightening in the chair. Marci’s attention darted straight towards the sound, her head tilting to the side as she studied Matt through narrowed eyes.

“It’s me,” Matt said slowly, voice strained. “I’m Daredevil.”

There was a very long pause, the weight of his words hanging in the air after he spoke. And then Marci let out a loud bark of a laugh in response, the noise a sharp contrast to the silence. Her laughter died quickly when no one else joined in, her face slowly falling.

“Wait, you’re serious ?” she asked him, resting her elbows on the table and leaning forward towards him.

“Yes,” Matt answered awkwardly.

“Holy shit,” Marci muttered. “Holy shit…so you are–holy shit.”

Everyone sat awkwardly in their chairs for a minute as Marci uttered a few more curses, her mind trying to wrap around the fact that Matt was Daredevil. And then her head snapped to Foggy beside her and she slapped him on the shoulder.

“You knew this whole time?” she asked him.

“I found out on accident!” Foggy defended. “He didn’t want anyone to know and it’s always been safer not knowing! So we didn’t tell you!”

“But all of you knew?” she asked in shock, her eyes darting between you and Karen.

Karen nodded. “He told me a while back,” she admitted. “I knew he was hiding something and I was in danger because of Fisk. So he–he told me.”

Marci’s eyes flew to you next and you cowered back in your seat. Her brows rose expectantly on her forehead.

“He saved me just before your and Foggy’s wedding,” you told her quickly. “Because of a story I was working on.”

“So he told you, too?” she asked.

You shook your head quickly. “No, I uh, I figured it out on my own,” you told her.

Her brows furrowed together at your response. “You were investigating Daredevil’s identity?” she questioned.

Heat crept up onto your cheeks and you shook your head awkwardly again. “No,” you answered. “I just–just recognized his uh, his mouth. That night he saved me.”

Marci blinked a few times at your answer before a slow smile slid onto her lips. “Okay, I’m definitely pissed at you all right now, but like, damn girl, you’ve had it bad for Matt.”

You ducked your head, eyes landing back on your plate. “Yeah it’s super embarrassing that’s how I figured it out,” you muttered awkwardly. “Let’s not dwell on that, please.”

“So how does that work?” Marci asked, her attention shifting back to Matt. “How the hell are you a vigilante superhero?”

“The accident that blinded me when I was nine,” Matt explained. “It uh, it heightened my senses, too.”

“How heightened are we talking?” she asked curiously, leaning even further forward on the table.

"I can hear the tenant above your apartment,” he told her. “He’s eating a meatball sub and he’s on his third beer. He’s been watching a game show–sounds like Jeopardy–for the past fifteen minutes.” Marci’s eyes grew wide, her mouth falling open as Matt continued on. “Your jaw just dropped. You’re surprised, I can tell, and I can hear the increase in your heart rate the more I say. I also don’t need Foggy to tell me how many times you washed your kitchen counters before tonight or to tell me how stressed you were trying to perfect everything for the evening. I can smell the levels of cortisol on you. And I’m guessing by the cherry pie from Fog’s favorite bakery on your kitchen counter that the cheesecake you made last night didn’t turn out quite how you wanted it to.”

Marci’s mouth opened and closed a few times, shock apparent on her face. Beside you, Matt’s mouth closed, lips thinning out as his focus shifted a bit away from her. Clearly he figured it was best to not say anything more as she tried to process what he’d already said.

“So all this time you just…you’ve been picking up on all of these things? And no one thought to tell me?” she asked, her eyes darting around the table.

Matt shifted awkwardly in his seat, his focus averting down to the table. At the sign of his discomfort, your own hand slid under the table and landed on his thigh.

“I try to be as…unobtrusive as I possibly can be,” he murmured.

Marci’s eyes flew towards you next, intensely scrutinizing you from across the table. “And you’re just not weirded out by him Sherlock Holmes-ing you all the time?” she asked incredulously.

You shrugged lightly, your hand still on Matt’s leg squeezing it gently as you felt him fidgeting in his chair. “I mean it takes getting used to at first,” you admitted. “But no, I’m not weirded out. He’s still just Matt. But I also don’t ask him to analyze me or whatever because it would just make me insanely more self-conscious.” You shook your head firmly as you continued, “But no. It doesn’t make me uncomfortable. It’s just how he sees and experiences the world–as normal to him as our senses are to us.”

Out of your peripheral you saw Matt lean towards you, his head turning as he whispered a soft “thank you” to you. You glanced over your shoulder and sent him a small smile in return. You knew he could tell you’d meant what you’d said.

Marci let out a huff, deflating a bit across the table. “No wonder you do so well with all of your cases,” she muttered. Chewing her lip, her eyes narrowed at her almost empty plate before her attention returned to the both of you. “So then what actually happened between you two?” she asked. “What was the real reason you both broke up? Since I’m the only one here who doesn’t appear to know.”

The smile quickly fell from your face as you nervously licked your lips. She was right, everyone else already knew the majority of the situation except for her. You figured she might as well be in the loop, too–though maybe you’d tell her about the rough sex part of things when you could talk to her alone. Having only just learned about this other side of Matt, you figured she wouldn’t be remotely understanding of that .

“I went chasing after a story,” you admitted slowly. “And I was stupid and reckless. I didn’t listen to Matt’s warnings–he’d been going out as Daredevil at night following the same story with Backman–”

“Are you his sidekick or something?” Marci asked curiously, her hand gesturing between the pair of you. “Chasing the same bad guys together?”

“Uh, no,” you answered, shaking your head. “Certainly not that. But I ended up not being careful and some of Backman’s men figured out I was connected to Daredevil so…they kidnapped me from the office to lure Matt out.” Marci inhaled sharply but you continued on with a grimace, unable to look her in the eye as you did. “And Matt rescued me. But he was upset that I hadn’t been listening to his warnings and taking him seriously so we had a huge fight right after. And he broke up with me and left.” Clearing your throat awkwardly you added, “To uh, put it very simply.”

You saw the exact moment Marci’s mood shifted; you certainly didn’t need Matt’s heightened senses to pick up on it. She slowly pushed her chair back from the table and rose to her feet, her eyes glaring dangerously at Matt beside you as he continued to keep his focus on the table. Out of the corner of your eye it looked almost as if he was visibly shrinking under the weight of her furious stare.

“You did what?” Marci roared, Foggy flinching beside her. “She gets kidnapped and then you think that is the time to break her goddamn heart, Murdock?”

You held up a hand at Marci, shaking your head quickly. “Hey, stop. We’ve already been over this, Marci. Him and I–the people this effects–have already discussed it. There’s a lot you don’t understand and don’t really need to, Marc. Let’s not ruin the night.”

“Yeah, babe,” Foggy spoke up, gently grabbing her hand and trying to lower her back into her chair again. “This is between the two of them. It’s not our business.”

“He literally crushed her!” Marci snapped at her husband. “After she’d been kidnapped ! I didn’t even know any of this until just right now and you just want me to–to calm down ?”

Beside you Matt was still quiet, his body slowly hunching further in on itself. You could see the muscles of his jaw twitching at her anger. He wasn’t wearing his glasses tonight so the pinched look of guilt and shame on his face wasn’t hard to miss. You could practically feel the self-loathing crawling back into his mind.

“He should be yelled at!” Marci continued to rage. “She should be pissed! She should want to–”

“Enough!” you shouted, rising to your feet and meeting Marci’s gaze. “Marc, I love you, but that’s enough . I understand this is news to you and you’re angry, I get it, but that’s enough. This whole situation is between Matt and I. And I can assure you that we have thoroughly worked this out already over the past three weeks, over and over. He feels fucking awful about what he did and I don’t need you making him feel even worse right now.” Marci opened her mouth to counter but you pushed forward, your hand landing on Matt’s shoulder beside you. “If you want to continue to yell at Matt then we’re going to leave. But Marc,” you said, tone softening, “you know Matt’s a good man. You’ve known him for quite awhile now, too. Hell, you’ve complained many times about the cases he takes and works his ass off to help someone in need, and then is only too happy to win and get paid with fresh baked cookies instead of money.” You paused, watching her eyes narrow at you as she remained silent. “And at the very least you know I’m not an idiot. You know I wouldn’t have gotten back together with Matt if he’d truly done anything that horrible that couldn’t possibly be forgiven.”

Marci remained quiet when you finished, her mouth moving as if she was chewing the inside of her cheek, her mind clearly mulling over what you’d just said. An uncomfortable silence fell over the room as you both stood there staring back at each other across the table. Foggy and Karen were both staring dead ahead at their wine glasses as they waited for Marci’s anger to hopefully subside. Very slowly, you saw the tension start to ease from her body, her shoulders dropping a little. Her eyes gradually fell on Matt beside you, some of the edge of her anger visibly gone.

“Okay, fine. You’re right,” she agreed. “I have known him for years now and you have always been so irritatingly good. Though after learning this big secret I wonder just how well I know you now, Matt. But I do know how much you love her–hell I have had to listen to you talk all of our ears’ off about her for a year before you finally just told her you liked her. Which is why I couldn’t possibly understand how the hell you both even broke up in the first place.” She ran a hand through her blonde hair, roughly blowing out a breath. “I’m sorry I yelled,” she apologized, though there was still a tenseness in her tone. “But I’ll admit, I’m still pretty pissed about being the only one here not kept in the loop about any of this. Honestly, it hurts.”

“Understandable,” Matt murmured. “I just thought it was safer for you not to know.”

A small smile quirked the corner of Marci’s lips upwards as she lowered back into her seat. “Did she really figure out you were Daredevil solely because she’s stared at your mouth that much?” she asked Matt.

You groaned audibly, ungracefully dropping back into your chair at her question. On your right, Matt was grinning as he turned to face Marci. He nodded enthusiastically in response.

“Yes,” he told her. “That and apparently because I was one of the few who knew what story she was currently working on. But I like to think that it was just because of my mouth.”

“And here we go embarrassing me again,” you muttered under your breath.

Matt’s attention shifted towards you, that big grin still on his face. “I think it’s adorable you stared at my mouth that much, sweetheart” he said. “If I wasn’t blind, I’d probably have been staring at yours just as often.”

A blush crept up your face, your head ducking down towards the table yet again as you bit your lip. Matt chuckled, his arm wrapping around your shoulders and drawing you further towards him. He placed a sweet kiss to your cheek that had them heating just a bit more.

“Get a room!” Foggy teased across the table.

And shit if you didn’t wish you could do just that after this dinner. But you supposed that was still going to have to wait a bit longer.

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