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#it's hurtful and just plain rude
osddid-i-do-that · 9 months
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It’s always valid for you to feel your feelings. You can’t control what feelings you have or how intensely they hit.
However, this does not mean that:
They are always proportionate to the reality of the situation
that any way you express them to others will (or even MUST) be taken well
or that other people must do things in a way that avoids you feeling like that
Feelings can be a result of previous trauma, reality distortion/alteration (memory issues, amnesia, confabulation, delusions…), RSD (or any other condition that makes you more sensitive than the average person), being in a difficult emotional state, difficulty reading or conveying tone/body language, or a regular misunderstanding.
Do:
Respect your feelings!
Acknowledge your feelings!
Investigate and talk through your feelings with someone you trust! (Venting is healthy!)
Don’t immediately treat your feelings as an absolute metric for every situation!
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audisive · 1 month
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♪ BROOKLYN BABY. (💌) – previous part
౨ৎ simon 'ghost' riley | reader
synopsis: the 141 believes the scot now.
tags: fluff, romance, soft!simon, you're basically their mom atp lol, bickering, there's a bet between gaz n soap, gaz secretly wants you shh, ooc characters, not proofread, price being the gentleman he is, he's seriously just watching everything unfold
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       It's not always that Ghost is willing to let the 141 stay at his house for their traditions – which is just drinking beer and watching sports, really. In fact, he's always said something about his place being empty, so they always settled on someone else's. They stop asking after a year, and in turn, he stops having reasons.
It's not until Soap pops the question again when everyone else's houses are unavailable for a variety of reasons, his being that he left his faucet on and now his shitty apartment is flooded. You can only imagine the suspicion and shock when Ghost agrees (or, rather, simply grunts).
The drive is long, nothing short of 5 hours, and Soap spends the better half of it bickering with either Gaz or Ghost. He falls asleep by the next half, and when he awakes, he gawks at the lovely looking house before their car. There's two stories to it, a balcony, a front porch, and there's no doubt that there's a backyard.
Contrary to popular belief, no, it is not all black or plain at all. It's all equally surprising to them. The Brit isn't the type to care about the appearance and state of a house, usually. They do envision him in a mostly empty apartment with only a bed and a bathroom, though.
There's a delicate touch to where a rough man lives; the smell is almost heavenly when they enter the house. It's homely, the scent of newly washed sheets and lingering smell of food; there's a cat perched on the living room table that Ghost scratches the head of lovingly in a way that's so casual and natural. It's like they're at the gates of–
"Simon!" Heaven's bells ring in their ears, luring them into the doorway of the living room, and the sound of feet padding against the cold floor. There comes a soft-looking thing running into Ghost's arms, completely engulfing you.
You only notice the three familiar faces of your boyfriend's team members – though you know he considers them family if anything – when you pull away. An angel clad in only a cami top, shorts, and Simon's hand around your waist, you turn to look at the group with a surprised look on your pretty – Soap thinks that God, you're so pretty – face. "Oh, hi," you smile sweetly, obviously awkward at the silence and the staring.
"It's been a while," Ever the gentleman, the gruff voice is the first to speak up with your name uttered, the only who's actually met you – John Price. Soap is too enamored with the way you hold yourself and the fact that, holy fuck, even your name's pretty. Gaz raises a brow at the captain's greeting.
You smile once more – a genuine one now. "Nice to see you again, John."
"'S rude to stare, Johnny." Simon speaks out, a smirk under the mask. "Please excuse him, miss," Gaz adds, this beautiful man, and offers a charming smile.
"You must be Gaz," you hold your hand out, "it's a pleasure to finally meet you."
"Pleasure's all mine," Kyle forgets that a hand could be this soft and gentle, "and please, call me Kyle." He barely stops himself from turning your hand in his to kiss the back of it like one should to a lady so fair; his lieutenant has good taste in women, he'll give him that. And when you're out of the area, Soap is sure to rub it in Gaz's face. I told ye so! LT wis hidin' somethin' from us. A pretty something, that is. You don't miss the way he slips a twenty-dollar bill into the Scottish man's hand.
"Glad tae meet ye," Soap finally says, winking. "Understand why he wis hidin' a bonnie lass like ye from us." There's a mischievous glint in his eye, almost naturally so.
"A'm hurt, LT, but whit can I do? After all, we're just a couple o' brutes, arenae we?"
Simon watches in amusement, "you'll live." Soap is quick to move to your side as you lead the small group of hulking men through your shared home after that.
Simon is visibly more relaxed with you around. He's comfortable, that much is a given, with the way he's taking up most of the thankfully large couch with his manspreading. So is the 141. They're pampered like spoiled children (or pets, really) through the whole day.
Instead of just beer and faucet water, they're offered a variety of drinks in the kitchen that's enough to be considered a private bar. Instead of an empty belly unhealthily stuffed with beer and a mix of mediocre takeout, they're met with warm homecooked meals. They lose track of time quickly; the night falls by the time they've tired themselves out, and they've had not one, but two meals thanks to you.
(They're sure to commend your cooking skills and think of how lucky this tall brute of a man is blessed with a woman so soft and pliant and wonderful and– while Price is the one to be the most grateful, Soap compliments you the most. "A can practically taste the love." You laugh in turn.)
Gaz is the first to speak after a meal so lovely, they could simply just sleep on the floor comfortably and wake to the same smell of home. "It's a bit late, love, we should probably go."
"Thank you for having us," Price smiles down at you kindly.
"Ye've been lovely, bonnie." He wants to stay some more.
"Wait," you stop them, looking up at Simon for further approval. He's already looking at you with a reassuring brush of his thumb on the side of your hip and a nod. You turn your eyes back at them. "It's already late, you three should stay the night. We have enough room for everyone."
There comes, "we don't wanna intrude," then, "we can take care of ourselves, it's alright."
"Please, I insist." Your smile brightens, "I'll even cook breakfast before you leave."
The mohawk moves with a sigh, "now tha's just no' fair, lass. How are we gonna say no tae that?" You giggle. Only then do they find themselves tucked away in the guest room, and boy, you were right when you said it could fit them all if not more.
On the way to the bathroom in the late hours of the night, Soap catches a glimpse of light through the crack of your bedroom door to see his oh-so strong lieutenant, vulnerable in your arms. There's something natural about the way you cradle the large man and kiss his hair like it's part of your DNA, like you're programmed to do that 'cause Soap thinks you're simply unreal.
He's proud of his lieutenant, this lucky bastard. He turns another blind eye once more, but he's paid in full with another fulfilling meal by the morning.
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undiscovered-horizon · 6 months
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Hi! I really enjoy your one piece writings, they have given me so much comfort when I don't feel okay 😭
Can I please get a Mihawk (I'm completely in love w this man aah) imagine where his wife is a sensitive person who gets sad when someone is rude to them but they feel insecure couse they think it's stupid
Thank youuuuuu ❤️🥺
First of all, I'm honoured that I can provide a source of comfort to you. I'm glad my work has made you feel better in your time of need.
Second of all: oh yessss bestie this hits the spot. It also reminds me of a wonderful scene in The Gentlemen (10/10, highly recommend) [it also hits close to home because I am a sensitive person]
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The thing about strong people is that they make others want to be just as strong, which isn't always easy if even possible. You've always known you're a little 'softer' than most people but only after marrying Mihawk did you find the difference in temperament bothersome. Instead of considering your sensitivity a fact of nature, you've begun to find it a flaw, something that you should change about yourself.
You've never admitted it to yourself but the truth is plain and simple - you think it's embarrassing. That Mihawk will find your sensitivity embarrassing. Maybe if you had been up-front about it with your husband, you'd learn that he adores your soft heart. If he felt forthcoming enough, perhaps you'd even hear that you're the source of warmth and light in his life. Hence he calls you his 'sun'.
To say that Mihawk grew concerned when he heard your muffled sobs would be like not saying anything. A delicious euphemism at best. Anger and fear bubble inside his chest. There's a strange itch in his hands that eggs him to wreak havoc.
"Apple of my eye," his voice carries well through the rather empty room you're both staying at currently. "What is the meaning of this?"
Frantically wiping away your tears, you look over your shoulder to meet his gaze. Mihawk is leaning against the doorframe, blocking the entrance if you so wish to run away from this situation.
"Oh, it's nothing. Really, I'm alright. No need to worry," you half-heartedly attempt to reassure him.
The swordsman loudly exhales through his nose. He's your husband, worrying about you is his duty. In slow steps, Mihawk walks over to the edge of the bed where you're sitting. Pride and titles as if forgotten, he drops on one knee in front of you. One of his hands gently squeezes your knee.
Unsure what's the best way to go about these circumstances, you timidly meet his intense gaze. The passion in his yellow eyes makes you think of a maelstrom captured in a jar - something devastating held back by a miracle. He's already seething, just doesn't yet know who exactly to direct his violence at.
"Indulge me," he prompts you to confide in him. There's a rare sense of pleading in his tone.
So indulge him you do - you tell Mihawk all about the unpleasant encounter with a local tearaway. Your husband tries his best to control his expression as you recount the unambiguously offensive words, unwanted touches and threats of real violence coming from someone who was probably looking for a cowardly scapegoat to vent his anger. As you continue your story, tears just keep rolling down your cheeks, fear and humiliation finally finding their way out of your heart.
"I know I'm being stupid," you mumble as you clumsily wipe your face, "he was just rude and it's not like he actually hurt me but-"
Mihawk's touch makes you cut your sentence short. His hand, its skin rough and calloused, gently cups the side of your face. Your hot, salty tears disperse as his thumb slowly rubs them away. Something about the tenderness of his touch, of hands that have killed and maimed, is enough to make you feel like you're about to break in his arms. Even if you do, you know that when dawn breaks you will be whole again, put back together with the unending love Mihawk holds for you.
"You've always been too good, my sun," he tells you in a low voice. He could have said 'too soft' or 'too sensitive' but then his remark would come off as deceitful as it would suggest his dislike towards your nature. Nothing of that sort - Mihawk genuinely thinks you're a better person than most people walking this plane. And he'd rather succumb to torture than let anyone make you feel bad about that.
The man leans in and places his warm lips against your forehead. Without much effort, he lays you down on the bed and you let him. Even if you wanted to fight back, you're way too tired to do so.
He's sitting on the edge of the bed, caressing your face, neck, arms and back as he's waiting for you to fall asleep. The anticipation doesn't require much patience - Mihawk's tender touches lull you to peaceful slumber rather swiftly. When he's sure that you're asleep, he kisses your forehead again before cautiously leaving the bedroom and closing the door behind him.
Perhaps he can't turn back the time and make the offending man choke on his words but he can ensure that the tearway won't hurt you ever again. Someone resting in peace so you can rest peacefully is a good bargain.
Mihawk knows exactly who he's looking for. He made a note of a certain characteristic trait you had mentioned - an earring with a single, red-coloured feather. It doesn't seem like a piece of jewellery that would be common anywhere.
It doesn't take much to find the tearaway. He makes his presence well-known as he stumbles out of a tavern, his legs almost giving away with each step.
So he assaults random women minding their business and then gets blackout drunk. It's pathetic enough to consider his death merciful.
Staying true to his name, the swordsman stalks his prey before lunging. Appearing as another patron of the inn, Mihawk follows the stranger around the corner towards barns, stables and pigstys. Fitting place for the likes of him, Dracule thinks to himself.
The man with the curious earring staggers his way towards a drinking trough. He's fumbling with his pants, desperately trying to pull them down to relieve himself but his fingers are not dextrious enough.
Mihawk picks up the pitchfork leaning against the barn wall. In one, swift motion he gores the tool through the back of the man's knee. A guttural scream tears through the night as he falls to the ground.
The swordsman grabs a fistful of the tearaway's hair. He forces the kneeling man to look up into his seething, yellow eyes.
"Do I owe you money?" The man is slurring his words. He squints his eyes, trying to focus his hazy vision on Mihawk and, possibly, recognize his creditor. "It's money, isn't it? Shit, just give me two days, man. I'll give it back with interest."
"I don't care about money."
Instantaneously, panic appears in the tearaway's eyes. Did he just find himself in the same position he's put hundreds of people in to cure his own boredom and need for grandiosity?
"Then what it is?!" he shouts, fear settling in his viscera. Dracule's calmness put together with the sheer hatred emanating from him makes for a deeply unsettling impression.
"You hurt my wife," comes the answer. The fist clenching the man's hair tightens its hold further, threatening to tear off his scalp. "My wife," Mihawk growls.
But before the tearaway can ask for clarification, his head is forced into the drinking trough. Surprised and scared, oxygen is escaping him fast. Soon, his throat and chest begin to clench and throb painfully. Dark spots dance across his vision, foreboding blindness.
Then, Mihawk pulls his head just above the surface. The man desperately gasps for air.
"If you believe in a god," the swordsman begins in a low voice shaking with anger and adrenaline, "I suggest you start praying. Fast."
The tearaway's head is forced underwater again but this time, Mihawk keeps it there until the ruffian's body stops trembling and shaking. After that, Dracule waits for a while longer - just for good measure.
You're woken up by the creaking of doors as they slowly open. Blinking sleep away from your eyes, you look over your shoulder only to experience a sort of deja vu: Mihawk is standing in the doorway. Before you can ask about his strange behaviour, your husband makes his way to you in long, quick strides. He kneels on the floor beside the bed.
Mihawk takes your hand in his. He takes something out of his pocket and places it in your palm. You recognize the red feather earring immediately. And is that... a piece of skin still attached to it? Gently, your husband closes your fist and lifts your hand to place a chaste kiss on your knuckles.
"The rat has paid for its sins," he whispers to you. Judging by the intense look in his eyes, you don't want to know the details of this story.
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artemismoorea03 · 9 months
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DPxDC or Marvel: What Do You Mean 'You Didn't Know'?!
Poindexter's introduction episode gave us a horrifying and frankly underused plot device with a single quote. "You have all our powers on the human plain."
The argument could be that he meant the "basic ghost powers" but what if he didn't? What if he truly meant all of their powers.
Danny was under the impression that Sidney had meant "basic ghost powers", but when he had over twenty powers under his belt and more forming each day he started to wonder if maybe Poindexter had meant more than that.
But for now he didn't tell anybody. After all he was already considered 'overpowered' by the Team given the fact that he wasn't even 18 yet. He was powerful and it was clear that some members of the team feared and didn't understand that power. Be it because they didn't believe in Ghosts, didn't understand what a 'Halfa' was or were just generally freaked out by a child having powers that made immune to most their attacks.
His powers scared them and more than once he had heard the comment; "We're lucky he's on our side." and; "We made the right choice recruiting him so we could keep an eye on him."
Sure, he hadn't told them about his super hearing either but still - rude. Other members of the team had super hearing why assume that Danny didn't?
It isn't until one of these new powers develop in the middle of an important battle. Which wouldn't have been a problem if the new power wasn't some kind of EMP attack that wiped out all of their coms and plunged everything into complete darkness. People had gotten hurt - minor injuries but still.
"Why didn't you tell us about that power?" Superman/Captain America pressed as Phantom sank down in his seat uncomfortable under the gaze of every member of the team.
"Because I didn't know I had that power."
"What do you mean you didn't know?" Asked Flash/Hawkeye. "Seems like a pretty big thing not to know about."
"I didn't know because my powers are still developing." Phantom mumbled, "I get a new power every couple of months or so, it just happens sometimes. It's normal."
"It's not." Multiple members of the team said and Phantom shrunk down more.
"It is for me... I didn't know or I would have warned you guys..."
"Do we at least have a timeline for how long these powers are going to keep 'developing'?" Wonder Woman/Black Widow asked.
Phantom shook his head. "No. Dying and being brought back half-way doesn't exactly come with a manual. But, if it makes you guys feel better I'll probably have control of that EMP power by the end of the week. At least before the next power forms."
Oddly enough that sentence did not in fact make anybody feel better.
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pinksturniolo · 26 days
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Biggest Hater - Part Two
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Matt Sturniolo x Fem Reader
Part 2 of 2
Alternate version of my Chris fic: Biggest Fan
Requested by the baddest! @muwapsturniolo
Summary: You just don’t get the hype of the Sturniolo Triplets like almost every girl your age does. It probably has a lot to do with the fact that you went to high school with them and Matt Sturniolo particularly, got on your nerves more than anyone you thought ever could. In fact, it has everything to do with that. And when you run into him a couple years later, at the peak of their fame, your feelings haven’t changed one bit. No matter how attractive you find him.
Content warnings: smut, oral, angry sex, teasing, pettiness, manipulation, mean!matt (even tho he's an angel irl), ANGST AF, enemies to lovers trope (somewhat?), slightly toxic, use of alcohol, a lil fluff at the end to make up for all the madness lol
word count: 3,887
You never breathed a word to anyone about what happened that night. Losing your virginity to Matt in the back of his minivan on prom night while stoned out of your mind was not something you could exactly go about announcing around the hallways of school. As much as you wanted to let what happened possibly turn into something more between you two, you simply couldn't let one night of passion make you forget the years of anger Matt caused you.
And your feelings were only solidified when you returned to school the next week, and he pretended like you didn’t even exist. He avoided you even more than he would before, and to be fair, you didn’t call or text him over the whole weekend out of sheer embarrassment. But you figured he would at least acknowledge you.
You started to feel incredibly stupid for letting your desires cloud your judgment and wished you could take back everything you did with him. You two never spoke again, as if that night never happened. And it hurt you for a while, until you eventually decided he wasn’t worth the trouble.
But that was two years ago, and this was now.
Now you were taking shots of tito’s back to back like they were water. Zach, the mutual friend that you and Matt shared from school was passing the bottle around, more people coming in and out of the house as the night wore on, the party getting bigger.
You danced in the middle of the living room along with the crowd of bodies, your body moving to the music freely as you tried to let the invasion of memories from prom night out of your mind. The alcohol coursed through your blood, your shyness leaving. You were starting to have a good time and were happy that you hadn’t seen Matt around since he disappeared down the hallway.
Zach comes up to you, leaning down to talk into your ear. He asks how you’re doing and what you’ve been up to since high school. You’re not one for small talk but you don’t want to be rude and start to engage in conversation with him when you hear a voice over the music interrupt you.
“Mind if I steal her from you?”
You turn to see Matt standing there, his eyes briefly travelling up and down your body before greeting Zach.
“Matt! What’s up, where you been? You want a shot?” he says, grabbing his hand in a handshake.
Matt shakes his head and motions to the keys attached to the belt loop of his jeans. “I’m the designated driver tonight.”
You give Matt a dirty look before you allow yourself to check him out. His appearance has changed so much since the last time you saw him. He’s wearing black jeans and a plain t shirt, a backwards hat on his head. He has light stubble on his face, making him look a little bit older. He looked really good.
But you weren’t drunk enough to acknowledge him further, turning back to Zach. “I think I’m gonna go get some fresh air.” You tell him and he barely lets you finish your sentence, grabbing both you and Matt by the shoulder.
“Hey, remember when you guys used to be at each other’s throats every day? It was hilarious.” He slurred, a drunken smile on his face.
You give him a deadpan look, avoiding looking at Matt to see his reaction. You could seriously strangle Zach right now for what he was doing.
“You know what’s hilarious Zach? She was pretending the whole time. I think she was just secretly in love with me.” Matt says and your jaw almost drops to the ground from shock.
 Zach laughs loudly, throwing his head back. “I knew it! Practically everyone in our senior class said the same thing.”
The audacity these men had. You’re absolutely fuming, staring daggers at Matt, a stupid fucking smirk on his face. He knows you’re pissed, and he likes it. Loves it in fact. It satisfies him to no end that he can still get a reaction out of you after all this time. Not to mention, he thought you were incredibly attractive when you were mad.
Before you can fire a good comeback at him, a genius idea pops into your head. The music currently blasting through the large house now switches to an upbeat reggaeton sound, something directly in your element.
The furrow in your brows from the sour look on your face relaxes as it’s replaced with a smile, your eyes lighting up. Matt is a little caught off guard by the way your expression switched up suddenly but tries not to let it show. His arms are crossed, and he raises an eyebrow in curiosity as you speak to him.
“I love this song. Wanna dance?”
“Wait-what? -“ He starts, utterly confused now but you walk past him before he can protest, the fabric of your skirt brushing against his body. He grits his teeth, his heart skipping a beat as he inhales the scent of your perfume. You look back at him over your shoulder, a mischievous look in your eyes.
“Later, Zach.” Matt says, immediately following behind you. Your hips sway as you walk, closer to the dark corner of the room. Your short skirt is skintight, your lace top not leaving much to the imagination. You have on a pair of strappy heels and Matt can’t help but let his eyes linger on the smoothness of your legs and the curve of your ass as he walks behind you.
But he feels as though he’s walking into a trap, your sudden change in behavior a mystery to him. He hasn’t seen you in two years and you seem more mature, more confident in yourself. And given the way you both left things, he’s not sure why you would even give him the time of day.
You reach the corner of the room where it’s a little more private, starting to move your hips in small circles, swaying to the beat of the song. There’s a sultry look in your eyes as you lock eyes with Matt who’s slowly moving towards you. He’s drawn dangerously close to you, a few inches separating you from him. He’s hesitant but watches your body move sensually, your hair falling around your face as you run your hands through it. You look him in the eyes again, grabbing his hands to put them on your waist.
They say revenge is a dish best served cold. And your only intention tonight is to make sure Matt knows exactly who he’s fucked with. There was just no way he was going to show up in your life again and try to make a fool out of you for the second time. You were going to remind him that yes, there’s an unspoken connection between you two, and an electric storm that is created when your bodies mesh with another. But then, you were going to rip it from him, the way that he did to you.
The music vibrates through your body as you guide Matt’s hands across your waist and hips, his lips parted as you have him in a trance. His eyes can’t choose between focusing on your breasts spilling out of your shirt, the sliver of skin peeking out from the hem, showing the curves of your hips or your bare thighs now brushing against him as you move even closer.
Then, you turn around and wrap your arm behind you, across the back of his neck. Your other hand keeps his on the side of your waist. You grind your ass lightly over his crotch, his chest pressed into your back. His head is leaned down by the side of your neck, his warm breathing fanning across your skin.
He moves with you for a minute, immersed in the music and the way your body grinds against him. He feels like its just you and him in this party, addicted to the feeling of you on him like he was the night he had you all to himself in the backseat of his van.
His lips brush lightly over the skin of your neck, and he takes a deep breath in to try and steady himself before things escalate further. “What are you doing, Y/N.” He mumbles into your ear. His fingers press into your hips, his pants tightening from the way your ass is rubbing onto him.
Fuck. It’s taking everything in him right now not to drag you to one of the empty bedrooms and bend you over the mattress so he can fuck your brains out.
You feel him grow hard in his jeans and smile to yourself, your plan going exactly how you wanted it to. You turn around suddenly and wrap your arms around his neck, your lips feathering over his. “I need you…”
It takes him all of thirty seconds to grab your hand and lead you out of the living room, and to the secluded hallway at the other side of the house. He pushes you softly against the wall, placing his arms on either side of your head. There’s a look of desperation on his face that you haven’t seen before.
“Y/N. Listen to me. I know this sounds crazy, but I think about you all the fucking time. I swear, I’ve tried so hard to get you off my mind since that night and I can’t. I- “
“Matt, please. I don’t want to talk about that right now. Just kiss me.” You interrupted and smashed your lips onto his, his shirt fisted in your hands.
What you really want to say is, you’re a liar. If you really meant that, you would’ve talked to me at school. You would’ve let me know how you felt instead of cutting me off. You would’ve acted like a grown man and reached out to me a long time ago.
But that isn’t part of your master plan to manipulate him. You needed him to think you wanted him, to make him feel the way he made you feel for months after you last saw him. You know it’s wrong and petty, but you don’t care. And you couldn’t help the fact that you also secretly enjoyed having his hands on your body again, his lips on yours like they belonged there.
Matt is completely sober but he’s getting lust drunk off the taste of your mouth, your wandering hands over his chest, his abdomen, his hair. Pushing and pulling him into you, and he can feel your pulse pounding a million miles a minute. He could breathe your air forever, could steal your kisses like it’s his favorite crime.
The desire between you two grows and grows, until Matt is convinced he could fuck you against the wall in this hallway right now and not care one bit who saw. But he knows that’s not the right way to do this. He wants you on the bed, so he can lay your body down, and devour you in the way he’s been craving all this time.
He grabs your hips, breaking the kiss and leads you to the nearest closed door, praying that it’s an empty bedroom. The chances are in his favor when he sees no one in the room, a large king-sized bed in the middle. He locks the door behind him, and you throw your arms around his neck again, entrapping his lips on yours once more. He bends down slightly and grabs your ass, lifting you up in the air. Your legs wrap around his waist as he carries you over to the bed.
Once he feels the mattress against his legs, he climbs on top, laying you down, his body on yours. He trails soft kisses from your cheek to your neck, his tongue on your hot skin, teeth grazing, leaving goosebumps all over you.
You sigh in pleasure, letting him take over your body like its his. Your determination has been crumbling since he pressed you against that wall, but you fight to keep your head on straight, his mouth now ghosting across your chest as his head dips lower. He tugs your shirt and bra down, revealing your tits to him, nipples hardened from the cool air. He looks up at you, blue eyes burning with fire as he circles his warm tongue around one of them, making you gasp.
He continues, taking extra time and attention to suck, kiss and lick on each of your breasts, his eyes still on yours, leaving your now soaked panties ruined. You can feel his erection pressing into you and when he starts moving his head further south, you wrap your legs around him and grab onto his shoulders so you can flip your bodies around on the bed, this time with you on top of him.
It was time for you to regain control. You pull the top of your shirt back up and he starts to sit up, but you push him down firmly by his shoulders. You grab the hem of his shirt and pull it over his head as he allows you to undress him. He doesn’t protest and watches as you move down the bed, to settle between his legs. Your hands unbutton his jeans and yank his pants down and off of him. Now he’s only left in his boxers, and you’re still completely dressed.
You lay down on the bed, bringing your face to his crotch and exhaling on his hardness. His abdomen flexes and he clenches his jaw as he watches you tease him, breathing your warm breath onto him and then letting your tongue run over him through the fabric of his boxers.
You press a kiss onto him, your lashes fluttering as you look up at him. “Y/N…” He groans, his hands tangling in your hair. “Don’t fucking tease me.”
You let a sly smile appear on your lips and rub your hands on his thighs. Your fingers curl around the band of his boxers, finally pulling them down so his cock springs out, long, hard, and begging to be taken care of.
He twitches as you press your lips to the tip, saliva leaking out of your mouth and coating him. Then you finally move your head down, taking as much of him as you can into your mouth and your soft hand curling around the base. He moans, holding your hair back as you bob your head up and down, his breathing becoming shallow.
You keep the pace, letting him brush the back of your throat and look at him, his head thrown back against the mattress in ecstasy, knowing he won’t last long at which the rate you’re going.
“Fuck…” He whimpers, letting you push him to that release, your actions feeling way too good to stop you.
You pull your mouth from him, gasping for air and letting your hand continue the motions, squeezing around him with every intention to get him to finish.
“I know baby, let go. It’s okay.” You say, urging him to cum.
But once you speak the words, Matt snaps out of his pleasure, the sentence sounding all too familiar.
“Matt…” You whine, and he presses his forehead to yours, his hands on your lower back, helping you ride him. “I know baby, let go. Its okay.” He says softly and the coil that’s been building for the past 20 minutes since he kissed you, finally releases and warmth floods your body. You moan loudly and feel yourself leaking on his thigh, your hips slowing down.
He grabs your jaw, the expression on his face now hardened. “What do you think you’re doing?” He says, finally catching onto your little plan.
Shit. You really fucked up now. You didn’t think he would recognize the same words, you thought it would be an inside joke only to yourself in your twisted mind. But Matt was smarter than you realized.
You try to play it off though, not wanting to give in. “What do you mean?” You say innocently, batting your eyelashes at him.
He chuckles darkly and snaps his boxers back on, grabbing you by your arms and pulling you up, flipping around so you lay on the bed, on your back again.
Matt had a feeling something was off the moment you asked him to dance but he let his attraction take over and his desire cloud his judgement. And now that he’d figured out what you were trying to do, he was furious. He was mad that you felt the need to mock him, to get back at him. He was mad that he let his stubbornness prevent him from acting like a mature adult and block you out of his mind, of his life.
But most of all, he was mad and at the same time obsessed with the control you had over him, over his body, over his thoughts. He never let anyone dictate his emotions but somehow you had, and right now he wanted to show you who was really in control here. He wanted to show just exactly how much he had missed you.
“Who do you think you’re trying to play with, hm?” He says as he roughly tugs your skirt down your body and off your legs, leaving your heels on. He removes your shirt and bra right after, leaving you shocked in the way he’s managed to get you naked in less than a minute.
You don’t say a word as he pushes your legs open, his thumbs digging into your skin so hard, it hurts. He slots his shoulders in between as he places his wet lips on your stomach, kissing his way down, over your pelvis, and moving to your inner thighs, licking and sucking at the crevices.
It was insane the way Matt could control you with his dominance, the touch of his hands and the feeling of his tongue on your skin. You’ve basically lost your whole course of action in revenge, allowing him to have his way with you.
He’s everywhere except the spot you need him the most, leaving you whimpering and on edge, your hips uncontrollably moving. He smacks your inner thigh, making you cry out from the sting.
“Stop fucking moving. You wanted to play this game, right? Well, let Daddy show you who’s really in control here.” He practically growls and the tone of his voice has your pussy throbbing with need but your heart pounding with anger.
“Fuck you, Matt.” You respond, glaring down at him in between your legs.
He raises his eyebrows in surprise at your defiance, his eyes almost completely black from the way his pupils are blown. His fingertips dig harshly into your skin as he pulls you down even closer to his mouth, and your breath picks up as he traces his lips over your folds, not touching all the way but barely brushing.
He places a gentle kiss to the spot right above your clit, his eyes the complete opposite of soft as he looks up at you. He kisses once more and then dips down to lick one swipe through you only to move away, his tongue on your inner thigh again.
The teasing is almost too much, making you whine and squirm under him. He smirks at your reaction, satisfied with the way he’s gotten you worked up. He licks through you again, his tongue strong and warm and circles around your hole before pulling away once more, kissing the side of your lips.
“Say you want me.” He breathes against your skin, looking at you again.
You don’t answer him and he runs one finger through your folds, massaging lightly before pulling away seconds later.
“Say you want me. And I’ll give you what you need baby.” He’s looking at you with expectancy, hoping you’ll give in because as much as he’s enjoying teasing you, he wants nothing more than to please you.
You could almost cry from how mean he’s being, and grit your teeth, your eyes continuing to give him dirty looks. No fucking way you’re giving in this easily.
“I said… Fuck. You.”
There’s a brief moment of silence and heated looks exchanged before he suddenly gets up, standing at the end of the bed and then reaches up to drag you by your ankles to the edge where he is, wrapping your legs around his waist.
He would’ve had you cumming on his tongue, thighs around his face as you shook, swallowing every last drop.
“You’re gonna regret that.” He simply says and pulls his dick out only to push it into you with no warning, bottoming out as his hips connect with yours.
You cry aloud from the feeling, and you’re seeing stars as Matt drives himself into you over and over, hard. You’re moaning along with him, your head thrown back against the mattress. He watches as he slips in and out of you, the blissful look of pleasure on your face, a sight he could replay in his head for the rest of his life.
He wraps one hand around your neck, squeezing a little, making you clench around him from the feeling of arousal it gives you. The anger pours out of both of you, mixing with pleasure until it turns into something else, something you two have been holding back for a long time. This is nothing like the last time. In the van, it was sweet, innocent and new. But now it was dirty, hot and desperate.
The sounds of your bodies against each other fill the room, the wetness you make as he thrusts into you like music to his ears. He tells you how sexy you are, how good you take him, how much he loves to have you like this. Dripping down his cock, body quivering and throat raw from screaming out his name.
You both claim to hate each other but somehow ended up in this position for the second time. As you reach your release together, he lays closer over the top of you, burying his face in your neck. You hold him, nails scratching down his back as you cum around him, and you feel the throbbing of his cock as he finishes inside you. He stays there for a minute as you both calm down and he’s whispering sweet nothings in your ear.
Matt drove you home that night, after taking his brothers home first of course. Everyone assumed what you two were doing when you disappeared from the party and Chris and Nick giggled in the car, making fun of you two, much to Matt’s annoyance.
He kissed you good night. He called the next day, and the next, and the next. He checked up on you, sent flowers to your house when you weren’t expecting, he even brought you lunch to your job when you were having a particularly rough day. He made up for all the lost time.
You both had many discussions about the past. You forgave him for what happened, and it made you happy to finally say you didn’t hate Matthew Sturniolo after all. You were actually deeply, head over heels, in love with him.
taglist <3: (if you want to be added/taken off, reply to this post or comment on my masterlist. and if you weren't mentioned, it wouldnt let me tag u :/)
@sturniolopepsi @tillies33ssss @whicked-hazlatwhore @riasturns @christhopersturniolo @junnniiieee07 @sturnsjtop @seahorsie11 @inveigledvex @honestlyjb @mattslolita @certifiednatelover @glassesmattsbae @eryismum @sturncakez @sturnioloco @wh0resstuff @ribread03 @sturniololoco @75sturn
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tvhsleb3ww · 3 months
Text
LOVE IS NOT OVER! - OIKAWA TOORU
summary, your ex might still probably just probably have a little bit of feelings for you
swearing, flirting, the usual
this is part two! you can find part one here!
IM SO SORRY IF THIS IS BAD
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"you've changed a lot"
his ears perked up after hearing your words. was it a good or a bad thing that he changed? he didn't really notice his change. his gaze locks with yours and he almost let out a dreamy sigh as he got lost in your eyes that he missed so much.
wait what? no! he doesn't miss you, why should he? you broke up with him!
he scoffs at you, harshly. if you didn't know how tooru is, you'd think he's plain rude. when in reality, he's a very egoistic man and refuses to give up his ego for something else.
he's gonna be honest, when he first saw you again after so many years, he felt like his breath was being taken away. it was as if the universe was aligning your fate with his.
he seemed to be deep in his thought as he continued to stare at you with furrowed brows and narrowed eyes.
"you can stop staring now"
your voice snapped him back to reality as he blinked and his cheeks started to grow red. was he getting nervous because he just got caught staring? your lips curl into a small smirk.
"i wasn't staring! i was just looking at the poster behind you. jeez, (y/n) the world doesn't revolve around you"
his words and tone are harsh as he rolled his eyes. if you were any other girl, you'd give him a proper smacking but you know him well. you know he's lying but you shrugged it off.
"whatever floats your boat, oikawa"
woah wait a minute
oikawa? who the hell is oikawa? what happened to tooru? have we really grown that far apart to the point we're on last name basis? what the hell was that about!
his scowl grows. he doesn't know why he's being so pissy when you called him by his last name instead of his first name that his lovely mother had picked for him.
he takes a deep breath as he ran his calloused hand through his brown locks. he sighed, was he crazy? why is his feelings for you suddenly coming back after he buried it far far away?
you're the one to blame as well! why are you suddenly appearing in front of his face after years of disappearance!?
he then bit his bottom lips for a slight moment before he looked directly at you.
"can i ask you something?"
your eyes softened at his hurt expression. you sighed and nodded.
"yeah, shoot"
maybe he wasn't thinking before he talked because-
"are you seeing anyone?"
both of you sat in silence for a long second, trying to proccess his question. tooru's eyes widen when realization hits him.
"shit! that was not what i was gonna ask, i swear"
you snickered at the look of panic evident on his face. his cheeks grow a dark crimson red, embarrassed. he clears his throat.
goddamn, the effect you have on him. in his history of relationships, no one has ever made him blush this much before.
"so, should i still answer it?"
yes. yes you should. he said in his head. ugh, he badly wants to know. he then leans back on his chair and with a voice coated with a thick layer of smug, he says
"up to you, it's not like i care"
what a stupid lie. as he lied, his head turns to avoid your gaze. you raised your eyebrow at him before chuckling.
"well, i wouldn't be on this blind date if i wasn't available, no?"
he nods. you got a point there.
before he knows it, a small smile creeped up onto his face for a milisecond before he covers his lips with his hand.
why is he happy that you're single? he's supposed to not care!
"oikawa-"
"tooru."
he corrects you. he couldn't handle hearing his loved ones call him by his last name. as much as it brings honor to the family name, he despises it. it's as if you and him were strangers meeting for the first time.
"tooru"
when you called out to him using his first name, he wanted to melt right there on the spot. how long has we waited for this moment to come? to hear your voice calling his name again after years was something he had longed for.
your soothing, soft voice.
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"you did amazing, okay? you were kicking their ass"
you comforted him, your voice soft and soothing. your hands find their way on his shoulders, caressing them. your fingers made small circles on his shoulder blades. he lets out a small sigh of relaxation after letting our whimpers.
"but we lost- and i- i lost"
"yet you did amazing and i'm proud of you"
you say and press a soft kiss on his tear stained cheek.
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he didn't know why he suddenly recalled that old memory from when both of you were in highschool and he had just lost an important game.
how he wished to hear your voice comforting him everytime he lost an important game. your voice to soothe and comfort him. no one else can do it like you.
fuck, he's such a sucker for you. how down bad is he?
he lets out a small sigh as he looks back at you. his ears were a slight shade of pink.
"y-yeah?"
he stuttered. shit. he can't help but stutter. he gets so nervous when you called him like that. it's as if it was back in high school when both of you started to use each other's first name. he could've sworn he fainted when you first called him by tooru.
"i'm sorry for how we ended. genuinely sorry"
your voice was coated with guilt. oh, he couldn't stay mad at you. no matter how hard he tried to. he couldn't hate you. his love for you was just too much.
"i-i was scared at that time. i knew you were going overseas before you told me. i didn't want to stop you from chasing your dream and i broke up with you. i'm sorry"
pang!
it was as if a bullet had shot through his heart. you were worried for him? all this time, he thought that you hated him and when in reality you cared?
and in an instance, his hatred had disappeared. if there were any to begin with.
"apology unaccepted"
you shot a look as you raised your eyebrow, daring to make him repeat.
"i'll only accept your apologies if you agree to start over with me. right here, right now because i don't want any woman other than you"
your eyes widen slightly at his confession.
"my heart is yours, (y/n). break it, heal it, do whatever you want with it because it has always been yours"
tooru felt good to finally confess that.
and how could you possibly say no?
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(thank you guys for enjoying my blogs! this is part two 😇)
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ladyofthenoodle · 1 year
Text
oh, look now, there you go with hope again
Adrien Agreste was sitting alone in the cafeteria.
Again.
The sight made Marinette want to pull her own hair out. Hadn’t she publicly stated, as Ladybug, that Adrien Agreste was as much a victim of his father as anyone who had been akumatized? That in the end, he’d shown remorse and helped her? Hadn’t she urged the people of Paris to embrace him, to give him a second chance?
Sure, she hadn’t exactly practiced what she’d preached, but—she’d excused herself as the exception. After all, no one had been more hurt by Chat Noir than Ladybug herself. No one else had felt the sting of betrayal or the sharpness of his claws the way she had.
So she’d told herself it wasn’t her responsibility to extend an olive branch more than she already had. Surely, someone else—someone who didn’t have vivid memories of fighting against a boy meant to be her partner—would step up and be his hero. It wasn’t Marinette’s job.
Except, apparently, it was.
Because he was still eating alone.
If no one else was going to step up, then she had to.
The next day, she marched right up to his table in the cafeteria.
He looked up at her, wide-eyed and frightened.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know this table was taken. Please, let me move my things–just a few seconds, I promise.” 
He’d already started packing up by the time Marinette processed what he’d said—and the hunted look in his eyes as he said it.
“Stop!”
Adrien froze, instantly, then raised both hands in the air: the universal sign for ‘I’m unarmed.’
Marinette felt a pang of guilt. Snapping at him like she was apprehending a criminal was not the approach she was going for. So she tried again.
“I mean,” she kept her voice as soft as she could, the way one would approach an injured stray on the street, “you don’t need to move. The table isn’t taken by anyone except you.”
Adrien nodded, his hands lowered slightly, but clearly still on guard for whatever she’d say next. She hated that, but she couldn’t blame him for expecting the worst when a girl he’d never spoken to before arrived at the table.
Still, the idea of him being scared of her—plain-clothed Marinette—felt wrong. He’d never even been scared of Ladybug, though she’d had her fair share of nightmares about him.
“Can I join you?” she asked.
He nodded again, but unlike the relief she expected at her question, his posture remained guarded and tense.
Did he not want company? Is that why he still ate alone?
She found that hard to believe. Chat Noir, even at his worst, had always been gregarious—often trying to make conversation with her even as he attacked her. There’s no way this same boy could be satisfied eating alone every day, with no one to talk to. 
He must just not know what to do in this situation—it was common knowledge, after all, that he hadn’t been allowed to go to school before this, not even a fancy private school.
Luckily, Marinette had come prepared with the perfect icebreaker.
So after she took her seat next to him, she pulled it out of the bag: two croissants, baked fresh this morning, and better than any of the baked goods in the cafeteria menu. She put one on his tray.
Adrien eyed it warily.
“It’s for you,” Marinette explained.
“You want me to eat it?” he asked, which she thought was a bit rude, but she supposed Hawkmoth wouldn’t have taken much time to instill his son with proper manners, so she decided to let it slide.
“Yes, I brought it for you.”
He nodded, then picked up his knife and fork like he was preparing for battle. He closed his eyes, breathing in deep, as if he were bracing himself.
Marinette had a hard time pushing back her annoyance at that. Not thanking her was one thing, but acting like her parents’ baking was some kind of chore to eat?
“Just eat it!” She took a bite of her own, for emphasis. “It’s good.”
Adrien set his knife and fork down again, then gingerly picked up the croissant with his fingertips. 
Irrationally, Marinette felt her heart racing as he slowly inched it towards his mouth, like it was a design contest and she was watching the judges circle her piece. 
Which was stupid, because she wasn’t trying to impress him. She was just trying to be nice. It didn’t matter if he liked it or not.
But by the time his teeth sank into the croissant, she was on the edge of her seat.
He took a bite.
Chewed.
And swallowed.
Then looked at the croissant again, with wide-eyed wonder. Marinette couldn’t stop the smug, satisfied grin from spreading across her face.
Which quickly slid back down at his next words.
“It’s… just a croissant,” he said, and if he hadn’t said it with such awe and reverence, Marinette would’ve chewed him out.
Instead, she was just baffled.
“What else would it be?” 
“Nothing,” he said, too quickly. “Of course it’s a croissant, I just—there’s nothing else in it.”
Marinette frowned. “Were you expecting pain au chocolat? It’s a whole different shape.”
“No, of course not, I—” He stopped, then, and looked away, as if he was scared to say more.
And really, this whole exchange had been weird, from the beginning.
“Adrien,” she said slowly, “why were you afraid to eat the croissant?”
Because that’s what it had been, hadn’t it? Not ingratitude. Not snobbishness.
Fear.
He mumbled something into his lap in response. She couldn’t quite make out the full sentence, but what she did hear was chilling: “...last croissant had…. in it…”
Just a croissant. Because he’d expected her to put something in it.
She’d known her classmates avoided him. But she hadn’t realized how bad it was.
When Marinette was 10, their class had gone on a field trip to the zoo—not the one nearby, but the big one, on the outskirts of the city. She’d been so excited that she’d packed her bag filled with everything she could possibly need—snacks, sunscreen, her favorite magazines for the bus ride.
And then she’d been stupid enough to leave her bag unattended for a few minutes.
The memory of squeezing her bottle of sunscreen in the heat of the day and having a dollop of mayonnaise fall into her hand instead had never left her. It hadn’t been the worst prank Chloe had ever pulled, but the scent of mayonnaise that’d been sitting in the sun—sour and rancid—never left her. 
She still smelled every bottle she opened now, years later, even ones she knew no one else had touched.
She didn’t know what had been in the last croissant he had been given, but she knew exactly why he’d been wary—why he’d tried to go in with a fork and knife first.
What she didn’t understand was why he’d drop them and eat it with his hands anyway, if that’s what he expected.
“Why did you take a bite if you thought I’d put something in it?”
“Because you told me to,” he whispered.
Marinette blinked, disbelieving. He’d blindly taken a bite, expecting the worst, because she’d told him to? Even at the peak of her victimhood, before she’d learned to stand up and fight back, Marinette had done her best to avoid falling into any traps she could see coming.
“Why?!?” she all but shouted. “Why would you just let someone do that to you?”
His answering smile was brittle. “As long as I’m willing to play the victim, they don’t see me as a villain.”
Marinette’s stomach dropped in horror as he continued—as she realized the true extent of what she’d let Adrien Agreste go through for weeks, while she’d turned the other way and told herself it was someone else’s problem.
“When I first came to school, no one wanted me here. They didn’t feel safe, even though Ladybug assured everyone I was powerless now,” he was looking away, now, voice hollowed out like his insides had been scooped out, “For a while, I was scared they’d make me leave school. But then, they started playing pranks. And after they’d play one, they’d laugh at me, and it hurt at first—it still does, but—one day, I realized, when they laughed and taunted, they didn’t look scared of me anymore. So, I let them. If this is what it takes to stay, for them to feel safe and accept my presence here, I’ll eat whatever they serve me.”
Her insides churned at the thought of him—sitting on the ground, surrounded by the faceless peers laughing, and somehow deciding that was for the best.
“Why would you want to stay, when everyone treats you like that?”
Why would he want to stay, when no one had shown him even an ounce of kindness?
Adrien shrugged. “It’d be the same anywhere, probably. And…”
“And?” she prompted, reaching out to lay her hand on his white knuckles gripping the edge of the table.
He turned a wistful smile to her now. “I’ve always wanted to go to school. To be with other kids and make friends. My parents wouldn’t hear of it—they said it wasn’t safe, that the kids I’d meet at school weren’t worth knowing.”
Something in her heart—some wall that she’d built up after that second battle with Stoneheart—cracked.
“I can’t let him be right,” Adrien confessed, his own voice breaking with the weight of it.
She’d been wrong before, when she’d thought he’d sounded hollowed out. Maybe his father had hollowed him out before, to better fill Chat Noir with Gabriel Agreste’s own darkness, a croissant ruined by something unsavory shoved inside.
But this Adrien wasn’t hollowed out. 
He was carved into. And he’d submitted to it, willingly, just for a chance to stay.
Luckily for Adrien, Marinette did two things better than anyone else in Paris: proving Adrien’s father wrong and rebuilding what has been destroyed.
She squeezed his hand, in promise.
“He wasn’t right. We won’t let him be.”
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ithinkabouttzu · 1 year
Text
TXT reaction to having a s/o way shorter than them
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Genre: Romance, fluff
Warnings: None
Description : Txt reaction to having a s/o (you) being way shorter than them
a/n: Sorry if this is short yall, (see what i did there lol) but this one is for all my short baes! really just all of y’all bc TXT boys are TALL
******************************************************************
Yeonjun
- man thinks your so cute
- Literally it hences out his protective mode when he’s with you
- Like if someone hurts you? oh they’re dead
- okay one day, he heard a loud bang in the kitchen, he went to go see what made the noise and he just sees you on top of the counter, clearly struggling 😭
- And he’ll just be like, “Do you need some help y/n?” and you’re just like “NO” bc you know he’d bring it up later if he helped
Soobin
- The height difference between y’all OMG
- Of you need him to get something for you that’s too high for your reach, he will be so happy to help
- He gets butterflies like crazy when you look up at him
- You’re his plain out weakness, you’re just so small and cute it’s so hard to say no to you like ever
- i think the height difference makes him feel so much more confident bc he’s just more comfortable around you in general
Beomgyu
- He’s a teaser
- loves how tough you are despite your height LOL
- When you guys start to playfully banter with each other he just HAS TO bring up your height
- can’t take you serious when you’re mad
- but just know, if someone else is mean or says something rude about your height, he will COME for them
Taehyun
- Doesn’t like to bring up anything about you’re height, he doesn’t want to hurt your feelings or something so he just doesn’t talk about it
- but heFinds you so precious
- Tries to be so gentle and soft around you
- He loves how he can just pick you up and hold you 🥺
- lowkey he kinda has a problem babying you sm LOL
Huening Kai
- HIS ADORABLE S/O
- Just wants to pick you up and smother you with kisses
- admires you when you aren’t looking
- he likes to watch over you, he hates when you get hurt
- doesn’t like to make a big deal abt the height difference but sometimes he just can’t help it
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ohmtoff · 3 months
Text
Creep
Nick Sturniolo x OC smut
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Summary: Nick tried to take a picture of a hot stranger in the grocery store, but when his flash went off, Ethan, the hot man in question, used Nick’s clumsiness for his own advantage
Contains: Anal sex, bottom!nick, top!oc, oral sex, spanking (very minor, not explicit), unsafe sex, barebacking, unconsensual photo taking, fingering, rimming, hair pulling, light dom/sub, dirty talk, slight crying during sex, overstimulation
Word count: 5,078 words
Disclaimers: minors dni. will contain grammar mistakes, english isn't my first language. this is FICTION, always use protection during sex, never take a pic of a stranger without their consent.
a/n: this was partly made bc i cant get over the idea of larray tara and nick as a trio like IM GNA LOSE IT. the tiktok talked about was (https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSF8YxXn6/) its so funny i need to include it.
——————————————————————————
Nick laughs, reading Larray’s last message about a tiktok he found of a guy pretending to be called gay in middle school and his friend defending him, both of them relating to that video strongly.
He tries to reign in his grin, as he’s on a supermarket trying to buy groceries, and laughing to yourself is just plain weird, so he forces himself to press his lips together as Larray and Tara sent jokes that make his belly hurt. He briefly takes his eyes off the string of messages, hearing a loud cough, and clocks grey sweatpants on strong thighs. He’s interested, immediately, checking out the rest of the tall boy who is standing next to him by the snack aisle, holding onto his cart. A black short sleeved compression shirt defining his strong chest and bicep, complimenting bouncy and slightly curly brown hair, a face adorning deep brown eyes that could pass for both handsome or pretty, and veiny hands that make Nick’s mind wander. He texts the group.
jacob elordi brainrot
Nick: hottest. guy. ever. in the grocery store
Larray: ???? not possible, I’m at home 
Tara: ew
Larray: rude
Tara: anyways
Tara: PHOTO
Larray: how hot?
Nick: grey sweats and compression shirt hot
Larray: PHOTO
Tara: PHOTO
Nick: I can’t take a pic guys that’s creepy
Larray: PHOTO
Tara: PHOTO
Nick: No
Tara: come oooonnnn PHOTO
Nick: ugh fine
It didn’t take much for them to convince Nick because he knows he actually really wants to take a picture of the hottie to his right, for scientific purposes of course. Nick makes sure his phone is on silent before he angles it, tipping it back a little as he hopes he captures most of the guy. He tries to look at others on the store, rather than focus on what he’s doing, thumb moving around where he thinks the snapshot button is until – flash – the bright white light of his camera lights up the entire back case of his phone. 
Nick feels his heart catch in the back of his throat, and he’s slow in moving his hand, the immediate humiliation making him freeze. He can’t help but look at the stranger, and he sees how he takes in Nick’s obvious creeper shot, Nick feeling the anxiety coarse through him at lightning speed.
He’s fearful as the stranger frowns, stepping over to him, and Nick slightly backs up immediately.
“I’m - ”
“Did you just take a photo of me?” the stranger asks, and Nick thinks his face may melt, the shame of his actions making him lie, shaking his head silently.
“You didn’t?” the stranger asks, even more handsome, prettier, up close, but he’s clearly unimpressed by Nick’s rudeness, and Nick is panicking, brain drawing blanks.
“I…” Nick gapes, looking for the words, “I’m sorry.”
“Why?” the stranger demands forcefully, grabbing Nick’s phone, Nick gasping at that, but too embarrassed to fight it. The boy doesn’t look through Nick’s phone, just holds it and stares at Nick accusingly, Nick having to shrug, truly embarrassed and he feels pairs of eyes on his back judging him. 
“Come with me,” the stranger demands, still holding Nick’s phone, making his way to ut of the store, both of their carts abandoned. Nick doesn’t have much of a choice if he values his phone, and he follows, ashamed.
“I am sorry,” he pants, keeping up with the other boy’s pace, “can I have it back?”
The stranger slows down slightly, starting to look through the phone. Nick realises with horror that his phone isn’t locked, as he kept the camera open, and he reaches to grab his phone back, but the stranger is tall, holding it higher as he clicks on the incoming messages.
Larray: PHOTO!!! What’s with the silence girl? You better be sucking his dick!
Tara: PHOTO
The stranger scrolls up, Nick groaning in embarrassment, watching him read Nick’s earlier messages about how hot he is.
“Seriously creepy,” he shakes his head, deep voice just making it even worse as Nick cringes, “you’re perving on me in the store and taking my photo without my consent?”
“I’m genuinely sorry,” Nick said, his voice tinged with guilt, “I’ll delete it immediately and leave.”
The boy is doing something on his phone and Nick attempts to grab it back, but still, he’s too slow, still not tall enough.
“Ah ah,” the stranger tuts, “don’t worry. I was just sending your friends the creepy photo.” Nick starts to feel a little sick with anxiety, just wanting this to be over. He is never, ever listening to both his friends again. He’s frustrated and desperate, and in a fit of anger, he flounces off, “keep the fucking phone,” he rages, regretting it instantly, but he has no choice but to continue walking, leaving his very badly needed phone in the hands of another man. You idiot, you’re a public figure, what if he does something to your socials, he screams internally
“Hey!” Nick hears, “come back here.” He stops, and looks at the stranger with anxiety, his face hot from the embarrassment as he awkwardly walks back. Nick is confident that now his phone will be given back to him and he is secretly relieved, knowing he can’t afford to walk away and leave his public image in the hands of a stranger. He isn’t sure how he’d explain that to his brothers.
“You could make it up to me,” the boy suggests, and Nick looks at him properly, the smirk on his mouth and the way his eyes move, seemingly resting on Nick’s crotch.
“W – what?” Nick stammers, blushing, and the guy shrugs.
“You think I’m hot,” he states, “I think you’re hot, too.”
Nick chuckles nervously, unsure, a little scared this is some bizarre prank, but the boy is so sincere, nothing about him suggesting this is a joke. Nick has seen the look he has in his eyes in many boys and men, who Nick has flirted with and fucked before, but this is the first time Nick’s ever felt so drawn to another.
“I live near here,” the boy gestures, “I can think of a few things you can do for me to make up for your lack of manners.”
Nick wants to tell him to fuck off, wipe the slightly arrogant smirk off his face, but the confident way the guy stands, waiting on Nick’s response, his certainty, is making Nick’s dick twitch in interest, in want.
“Whatever,” the man smiles, casually slipping the phone back into Nick’s pocket before shrugging again, sauntering off, leaving Nick stood in the middle of the parking lot, torn between walking away – and he knows, he knows, kicking himself for it – or running after this guy desperately, letting him know how badly he wants him to make good on his promises.
He’s about to disappear when Nick makes a snap decision and runs after him, panting as he catches up, the boy turning to look at him from his car as he hears footsteps, bursting out in a laughter, his grin taking up his entire face. Nick readjusts his sweater.
“I’m horny, don’t – don’t get cocky,” he mutters, but the other boy doesn’t say a word, just makes Nick feel dizzy with a long look as he opens the passenger seat of his car and motion for Nick to get inside. 
“Nick, right?” he asks, as he hops in and shut the door of the drivers seat, and Nick nods, assuming he saw his name on the messages, “I’m Ethan.”
Nick was going to respond but his eyes catches the way Ethan’s seatbelt tightens on his pecs and Nick almost drooled. His eyes traveled upward to see this adonis-like man smirking and Nick swiftly turned his head towards the road. The drive to the apartment was short and thankfully not awkward due to the music playing, but Nick was still sweating even with the air conditioner on because oh my god he’s so fucking hot, is that his huge dick print on his sweatpants? Fuck, his veins are so visible why are his fingers so LONG? that shit can reach my tonsi-
His thoughts were interrupted by the car finally parked at the other man’s house. Both of them walked towards the door with haste and no words exchanged, eyes focused on going inside.
Ethan unlocked the door and let Nick in, the latter unable to get a word out before Ethan’s mouth flew towards his, and he’s harsh and fast and demanding, so Nick matches it, kissing Ethan like he needs it, and maybe he does. Ethan is shoving him into what Nick assumes is his bedroom, pulling off Nick’s sweater, as Nick yanks that heavenly tight shirt, until they meet Ethan’s bed and Ethan throws him down on it. He watches, heart racing, as Ethan pulls down his jeans, pulling at them forcefully, yanking them off as Nick helps him, pulling him back down for a kiss. Nick’s never known someone kiss this way; unyielding and demanding as he grabs Nick’s head and devours him, Nick pulling back at Ethan’s tangled hair, until Ethan grabs him wrists and pins them down.
Nick can’t help but moan, his dick hard in his briefs, because Ethan is pressing all his buttons right now. He hates the self-satisfied grin on Ethan’s smug, pretty face, but there’s no denying Nick loves it rough, which Ethan clearly does too.
“Like that, sweetheart?” Ethan asks, tongue running over his bottom lip, Nick watching it’s every moment, groaning in response, Ethan’s large hands still wrapped around delicate wrists, still pinning Nick down. Nick is fully hard and needy now, Ethan letting go of his wrists to grip each side of his face and bruise him with a kiss, Nick making the most of his new found freedom by gripping Ethan’s shoulders, nails digging in.
He’s a mess already, the curly haired man moving harsh kisses to his neck and chest as he moves down, the kisses becoming wetter, sloppier, Nick whimpering as Ethan ghosts over his clothed dick, mouthing at him teasingly.
“Please,” Nick whispers, but Ethan either doesn’t hear or ignores it, pressing feather light kisses across him, Nick beginning to peel his briefs off only to have his hands batted away.
“Do that again and I’ll tie you up,” Ethan warns, and Nick’s cock jumps at the tone in his voice, obeying, hands grabbing fistfuls of Ethan’s duvet instead to stop them from straying. Ethan stops, pushing Nick encouraging so his head is propped up, and he has little choice except to look at Ethan as he mercifully begins to strip him off his briefs. Nick’s toes curl as they’re discarded and Ethan is back between his legs, Nick waiting for the inevitable lick, looking down at Ethan as he’s forced to wait.
“What?” he asks, knowing his face is pink and he’s far gone, Ethan looking at him with playful eyes as he spreads Nick’s legs even further apart, leaning down, finally, Nick thinks, to touch his dick, but Ethan presses wet kisses and soft bites to the inside of Nick’s right thigh, moving up as he gets closer to Nick’s dick, nudging his balls with his nose and Nick is going to pass out from the feel of Ethan’s skin right there, from feeling his tongue and his little huffs of breath, whimpering embarrassingly loud as Ethan finally licks a long stripe up his dick to the tip, suckling the pre-cum collected there before he stops.
“Ethan,” Nick begs, and Ethan does the same to his left, Nick sure he’s intent on leaving bite marks on his fleshy thighs where there’s plenty for Ethan to sink his teeth into, Nick wondering if it’s possible to come from this. He’s obeying Ethan’s no touching rule, for now, and it is torture, before Ethan repeats this special form of hell – licking from Nick’s balls up to the tip of his cock, in one long, slow lick – flicking his tongue over the head, and pulling away. “This – I can’t do this,” Nick moans, “please just, give me…”
Ethan shakes his head, and Nick falls quiet, until he feels the blessed tight heat of Ethan’s mouth around his cock, Ethan sucking his dick perfectly, swirling his tongue around the head as he comes up, Nick crying out, trying his best to hold off, to wait.
“Ethan, I’m – I - ” he whines, Ethan stopping, quick and elegant as he leans up and kisses Nick’s mouth, “what’s wrong, baby?”
“Let me,” Nick gasps, trying to push Ethan down, “I want to do it to you.”
He does, too, because Ethan’s sweatpants are still on and he needs them off, wants to see Ethan’s dick and taste it in his mouth. Nick loves sucking cock, loves the feel of it in his mouth and the taste of come, and he’s good at it, wants to make Ethan whimper in the way Ethan’s made him shake.
“Yeah? You like sucking dick?” Ethan asks, unyielding, sadly, still looming over Nick and Nick gives up on trying to change their positions, not exactly hating this one, Ethan grabbing his bitten thighs as he attacks Nick’s mouth and neck with his soft lips.
“Yeah,” Nick grins, “of course.”
“Why should I let you suck me off?” Ethan asks, letting Nick’s thighs drop as he keeps Nick pinned down, kissing parts of Nick’s face that Nick doesn’t think anyone has ever kissed, always coming back to his mouth, his neck, moving to his collarbone, shoulder, biting. Nick is going to look like he’s been in a fight. Matt and Chris will have a field day when he finally turns up at home.
“Um, because – I’m great?” Nick asks, frowning, wondering what kind of weirdo turns down a blowjob, and Ethan stops so he can look at Nick, Nick continuing to be bowled over by the way Ethan’s eyes seem to burn into his skin.
“What makes you so great, pretty boy?” Ethan rasps, and Nick brings his nails down Ethan’s back.
“I look good with a cock in my mouth,” Nick teases, “and, after all, you did say I need to make it up to you.”
“You need to, don’t you?” Ethan grins, then moving so that he straddles Nick’s waist, Nick helping him pull down his sweats, Ethan standing briefly to get the fabric off his feet and boxers off before he’s shuffling up, Nick still propped up nicely by the large pillows. Nick attempts to not given Ethan the satisfaction of his astonishment at how large Ethan’s dick is, but he fails.              
“Still feeling confident, baby?” Ethan asks, hand wrapping around his cock as he plays with himself, jerking off, and Nick can’t help but lick his lips in anticipation, nodding, while he’s nervous he’s excited, knowing Ethan’s dick is going to fill him up properly, that he’ll feel the thick head knock at the back of his throat and makes his eyes water. He’s hungry for it. Ethan moves closer, knees over Nick’s shoulder as his big hand plants against the wall and his other hand hangs onto his headboard. Nick opens his mouth, ready for it, desperate for it, but he’s patient, waiting for Ethan’s say so, and Ethan makes slow, deliberate movements, wiping the leaking tip of his cock on Nick’s mouth and his cupid’s bow.
“Good boy for waiting,” Ethan praises, and Nick’s dick jumps, “you can suck it now, baby.”
Nick takes as much as he can, which is over half, but not all of it, and sucks in a hollow motion, moving back up before he forces himself to take every inch, down to Ethan’s balls, and pulls back, spluttering.
“Hey,” Ethan says, taking Nick by the chin, “take it easy, baby, don’t choke.”
“M’sorry,” Nick whispers, embarrassed, wanting to be good, to hear Ethan’s praises once more, and he’s easier with it this time, taking Ethan into his mouth and sucking him properly, rather than racing to get the entire dick inside him, and he can enjoy this, sucking Ethan at a nice, fast pace, but not too fast, getting off to the weight of Ethan’s dick and the smell of him, Ethan silent but present, running his thumbs over Nick’s cheekbones as Nick sucks his dick, happy and contented.
He mewls in protest when Ethan grabs his hair and pulls him off, trying to follow Ethan’s dick, not ready to stop, but Ethan isn’t interested, easily flipping Nick over so he’s face down on the bed. Nick waits as the pillows are wrenched from him, Ethan lifting him like a ragdoll as he puts them under Nick’s hips, Nick’s ass higher than before. Nick’s feels like he’s on fire, his skin aflame, pale but also pink with the heat, and he braces himself for Ethan’s fingers, surprised when Ethan covers him with his own body, kissing his neck.
“You’re so hot,” Ethan growls, mouth on Nick’s jaw, and Nick is sure Ethan is trying to actually eat him, “as soon as I saw you get on that aisle, the first thing I thought was, I want to fuck that boy,” Ethan smiles, Nick moaning as Ethan continues licking him, “saw your ass and thought, I bet he loves riding dick.”
Nick all but whimpers, pushing back, needy, and Ethan shows compassion, bringing his hand past Nick’s waist to curve over Nick’s ass, gripping at his hip.
“Do you? Love riding cock?” Ethan pants.
“Yeah,” Nick says, pushing his ass back to feel Ethan’s dick against it, “want me to ride you?”
“Patience, baby,” Ethan demands, pulling Nick over to kiss him, Nick moving with Ethan, not expecting the disappointed moan when Ethan leaves him, moving down and spreading Nick’s legs further apart. Nick keeps his hands up, mouth open and wet on his left hand, gripping the duvet with his other hand, and he trembles as Ethan spreads his ass open, crying out as he feels Ethan’s thumb tease over his rim, pressing down and ever so slightly inwards, teasing, always.
“I’m not a virgin,” Nick says throatily, hoping Ethan will speed up at that, the way he’s playing with Nick’s ass slow and gentle but mind melting at the same time, and Ethan just laughs at that, slapping Nick’s ass playfully with his other hand.
“I didn’t think you were,” Ethan says, voice loud in the silence of the apartment, “I still wanna take my sweet time.”
Nick whines as Ethan continues to give him something but not everything, loud as Ethan slips and pushes a finger inside of him, Nick stretching his legs, his toes, in a heavenly trance as the man explores him. He feels Ethan move, and then hears the squirt of lube, feels another finger join the first, and he gasps as Ethan scissors them, pulling them to the rim, almost fully out, as his thumb makes the gentlest of scrapes on his perineum, to his balls. Nick moans out on his hand, practically drooling.
He panics as he feels Ethan’s fingers disappear, not wanting this to be over, throwing his head back as he searches for an answer.
“Turn back around, baby,” Ethan insists, not looking at Nick, transfixed on his ass. He immediately obliges, feeling his brain mush and fill with Ethan Ethan Ethan. He feels like it’s been hours but he knows that’s untrue, and he’s ready to beg for it, for Ethan to open him again and slide his big cock inside him, but he doesn’t have to say anything as Ethan spreads him before dipping down. Nick all but screams as Ethan’s tongue licks across the rim of his hole, wet and rough. Nick instinctively tries to move forward, but he can’t; he’s facedown and Ethan’s hands are alternate from his hips to his asscheeks, spreading them again, as he eats Nick out. The rough texture of Ethan’s tongue, the way he presses his big, puffy lips on Nick’s rim is almost enough to make Nick sob. He’s holding it together, just thrusting as much as he can with the pillows underneath him and when he moves his forehead, he notices how sweaty he is, the back of his hands shining.
He yelps as Ethan pushes his tongue inside his hole and brings his hand up to the base of Nick’s spine, pressing his thumb inside of Nick to keep him slightly open. Nick is lost, utterly ruined, shook by how this stranger knows his body better than he does, whining as Ethan keeps his face buried in his ass; not for one-minute hesitating or slowing down as he eats Nick out as passionately as he kisses his mouth.
“I’m – Ethan - ,” he begs, knowing he’s a few well timed thrusts from Ethan’s tongue and fingers away from coming on the pillows beneath him, Ethan pulling his fingers out with a clear, wet pop, removing his tongue too, not before he sinks his teeth into one of Nick’s asscheeks. Nick is wrecked, his body tingling, his thighs burning from Ethan’s sharp teeth, a wetness between his legs like he’s never felt and an ache in his balls that is begging for release.
“You’re perfect,” Ethan assures him, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Nick looking at him longingly over his shoulder, “what do you want, baby?”
“You,” Nick moans, pushing himself back, wanting Ethan’s cock in him, “please, Ethan.”
“Mmm,” Ethan muses, and Nick is pleased to see he’s also hot, pink, sweat linging on his forehead from exertion, Nick yelping as Ethan brings his hand down on Nick’s ass, playful but enough to tan it, “turn around.”
Nick does, fairly weak now and desperate, beyond desperate, for his orgasm to tear through him and leave him blind and gasping. Ethan throws away the pillows carelessly, grabbing Nick’s hips and bringing him down, as he lubes up his dick and presses the head against Nick’s hole. Nick nods, and Ethan begins to push, Nick inhaling, mouth open, as he feels the familiar burn of a nice, thick cock pressing inside of him. Ethan is slow but intense, forcing Nick’s thighs up as he makes his way in, Nick groaning, a little high pitched towards the end when he feels Ethan is fully in. He lets one of Nick’s legs drop, apparently unable to leave Nick’s face or hair alone, before he begins to fuck Nick, gently at first.
“You naughty boy,” Ethan whispers, “is this what you wanted, huh?”
“Yeah,” Nick begs, voice broken, “god, please, give it to me.”
Ethan doesn’t waste time. Nick lets go of any dignity he was hoping to keep, moaning and whimpering with every single thrust Ethan makes. Ethan takes Nick like Nick belongs to him, like this is his right, to spread Nick wide and to fuck him, hips snapping into hips as Ethan clings to him tightly, Nick feeling Ethan’s dick so deep inside him, touching places he’s never felt anyone touch, his vision clouding over.
“Ethan,” Nick sobs, overwhelmed, Ethan slowing down, holding Nick open by his thighs as he pulls his cock out, Nick horrified.
“Ethan! Please! No! I’m sorry, I’m fine, I’m ok, please give it to me,” Nick begs, now losing his self-respect along with his long-gone dignity, feeling on the edge of tears. Ethan can’t leave him like this, can’t bring him to the brink of such pleasure to stop, it’s too cruel, Ethan once again flipping him over so now Nick is on his stomach. He cries out as Ethan slides straight back in, pulling Nick so Nick is on his knees, his upper body stretched out, Ethan’s big hands on both hips, slamming into him, the wet sound of slapping skin obscene alongside Nick’s enthusiastic cries and Ethan’s panting.
Nick is dripping with sweat, sliding off his own arms every time he tries to rest his head, yelping as Ethan yanks him up by his hair.
“Yeah? This what you need, Nick?” he asks, grunting, and Nick moans his agreement, unable to do much else. The forced stretch of his neck is delicious, Ethan not letting his pace drop for a moment, setting a punishing and perfect speed, Nick’s leaking cock a mess as he feels his balls tighten, knowing he’s finally, finally going to lose control and feel that blissful high.
“Want you to come like this,” Ethan says, slapping his ass again, “want you to come from getting fucked.” Nick can’t say anything, can’t even nod, because Ethan’s still pulling his hair as he slams in, quickening his almost reckless pace, Nick only concentrating on that one thing, that one feeling. Ethan is hitting his spot, perfect and fast and desperate and with one last yank of Nick’s hair, he is coming, begging and groaning, babbling a mixture of Ethan and God, blacking out as he does. 
He’s beyond over-stimulated, debauched and destroyed as Ethan follows him, letting go of Nick’s hair to cling onto his hips and fuck him with a few last, sprinting thrusts, Nick gasping as he feels Ethan fill him with come, warm and thick, Ethan crying out loudly as well, collapsing on top of Nick.
“Fuck,” Ethan groans into Nick’s hair, “holy fuck.”
“Yeah,” Nick agrees, still too weak to open his eyes or speak.
Ethan kisses the back of his neck before he pulls out his dick, Nick cringing as he hears the wet sounds, feeling Ethan fall out of him, and he’s mildly disgusted when Ethan rocks back onto his knees, opening Nick’s ass again, looking down at his wet, come filled ass.
“Ethan,” Nick accuses, feeling his face heat up Ethan further, Ethan just smirking, proud of the mess he’s created, Nick sore and sensitive as Ethan plays with him a little, whimpering as he feels some come drip out. Ethan laughs at Nick's embarrassment, leaning over and scrambling around some bedside drawers. Nick gasps as he feels coolness on his ass, Ethan clearly wiping him clean.
Ethan flips back down next to Nick, Nick still curled into the pillow, not shy but very aware of his sweaty, exhausted, fucked-out look. Ethan runs his fingers through red hair, not tugging this time, and he leans in, kissing Nick in a way that betrays his previous rough and ready treatment. Nick responds softly, kissing back.
“You ruined me,” Nick gasps, still numb, and Ethan stifles a giggle, “you ruined me,” he retorts. They lie like this for a few precious minutes, Ethan still excited as he sits up, ruffling his hair before he fishes around for something, Nick half watching out of the corner of his eye when he sees Ethan hold out Nick’s phone like he’s won a prize.
“Unlock it,” Ethan says, handing it to Nick, who does it without question. Ethan scrolls, finding the groupchat
The chat after Ethan sent a photo of himself went into a frenzy, a long conversation between his two friends going about how hot he is.
Ethan giggles at it, and Nick thinks he’s quite beautiful, pretty brown eyes and that sinful mouth and a tongue that Nick wants to feel a thousand times more.
Nick frowns as Ethan types, lazily trying to grab it back but missing entirely.
“What are you typing? Ethan?”
“I’m saying… ‘he’s just been balls deep inside me’,” Ethan cackles, and Nick shoots up at that, grabbing his phone, seeing the exact words sent by ‘Nick’ in the chat.
“Fuck!” he says, “Ethan!”
He settles back down, cringing as he sees the messages from Ethan's first text fly in, making Ethan laugh loudly and Nick cringe but smile all the same.
jacob elordi brainrot
Tara: HOLY FUCKKKK
Larray: u little SLUT
Larray: how big is he?
Tara: NICK FINALLY GOT DICK GUYS IM SO PROUD OF HIMM 😭😭😭
Larray: ANSWER ME RN
Ethan snatches it back, taking Nick by surprised then takes a snap of them, Nick hiding half his face under the duvet, Ethan looking far too pleased with himself.
“You look so cute,” Ethan says, and Nick’s stomach summersaults again, watching Ethan send the picture, waiting for the instant replies.
His phone pinged constantly after the photo was sent, Nick can imagine what kinds of debauchery his two friends are yapping about the situation.
“Your friends are funny,” Ethan laughs, putting the phone aside, and Nick is over his initial embarrassment, especially as Ethan cuddles into him, letting Nick rest in the crook of his neck. He feels Ethan’s arm around him and kisses into his hair so he sneaks an arm around the other, hugging his waist close, enjoying the feel of a smile against his forehead.
“They got me laid, so, yeah, they’re ok,” Nick says into Ethan’s chest, Ethan playing with his hair as he mutters, “they got you completely fucked – ruined – I think you said.”
“Shit, let it go,” Nick teases.
“You’ve had better, baby?” Ethan checks, and Nick wants to lie, to tease, to flirt, but he has no energy and it’s preposterous to think he's had better than this. The sex was magnificent, electric, and Nick is still buzzing from it, wondering if he’ll ever come down from it.
“No,” he says shyly, honestly, “you?”
“No, shit. I thought so, but you were something else,” Ethan praises, and Nick preens under his compliments and praise, flushing from pride rather than embarrassment this time around.
“You’re gonna stay, yeah?” Ethan asks, and Nick assumed he was. It feels natural, being here, like this, with Ethan. Nick nods into Ethan’s chest, and Ethan hugs him tighter, promising they’ll chill and order food later, Nick can stay and they’ll watch films.
“Maybe you can make good on your word later,” Ethan growls, “and ride me, bounce on my dick, huh?”
“I can’t even think about any physical activity right now,” Nick sighs dramatically, Ethan tickling his ear. Nick has his eyes closed but he can feel Ethan’s huge, beautiful smile, the visual of it imprinted in his brain. He’s already thinking about it though, climbing on top of Ethan and sitting back on his dick, rolling his hips.
“Okay, sweetheart,” Ethan said, and Nick snuggles into him, making a mental note to thank his friends when he next sees them. He’s sore but satisfied. All he needs is a nap, some food, and then he thinks he’ll enjoy showing Ethan exactly how good he is.
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seaadc · 4 months
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Hihiii, I have a request! I hope thats alright? I just finish your Zhongli x Adeptus!reader migraine, and I fell inlove with it! its kinda like me in someway, I used to be huge simp for Zhongli, well until the Fotaine update, somehow I didnt simp like I used to for Zhongli, my attention quickly shift to Neuvillette!(I guess I have a thing for dragons-) anyways sorry for rambling!
My request would be like the same idea as the Migraine Zhongli x Adeptus!reader? change childe for Neuvillette, I heard Neuvillette is going to be in the lantern rite! that would a perfect place! sorry sorry if I didnt make sense, english isnt my first language.
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you meet him again, the one who had shattered your heart. | zhongli
ANGST, no pronouns used, cocky neuvi, guizhong x morax, ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP
a/n: IDKWHY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG LMAOAXOAO slow writer here!! (bc i want it to b perfect smh..)
not proofread !!
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no. really— no.
you didn’t expect he would be here, well, which was pretty stupid. of course he’d be there. he lives in liyue after all. it’s plain common sense.
but it seems as if you were just clinging to lost hope, a hope that says you dont wanna see him there, interact with him, anything else just not him in it.
morax, the god of contract. the god you once loved, but never loved you the same way as you did. it was obvious who he had in his mind and heart, it was guizhong. i mean— who wouldnt, really?
guizhong was pretty, smart, courteous, firm, everything morax wanted in a person. it was hard to hate her, it was more easy liking her.
yet, why was it so hard for you? why was it so hard to like guizhong?
everyone else did, so why didn’t you? is it because of how envious you were of her, is it because you were jealous that she had morax wrapped around her little finger, is it because you wished to be her?
you didn’t know. how would you? when you solely focused on morax. you didn’t have time for yourself. you didn’t realize you were hurting, you were in agony.
no one noticed, not even you, not even morax. why would he notice? when all his attention was all guizhong’s.
maybe that’s why you were a bit overjoyed, when you had heard she had been killed. well, you heard from a rumor.
you had left them, for good. to be put simply, you left morax. you bid your farewells to xiao, as he was the only accomplice you have enjoyed their company with. no one else.
i guess you could say you enjoyed morax’s company, well, not so much. guizhong was always with you both. there was never a chance you two were alone.
it’s rude of you to be happy at the news of her “dead”. it’s offensive and disrespectful to the god of dust. but, you really didn’t care. was it of envy? you don’t know.
it was the first lantern rite you have attended again, after so many years of avoiding liyue and residing in somewhere far away, which was fontaine. it was great, meeting many people and friends that were generous and kind enough to talk to you.
so seeing him again in present time, both your eyes locked with eachother, gazing at one another, it feels as if time had stopped.
you both were together once more, reunited by fate, was it to attempt to reconcile your differences?
it was always him and you. side by side, fighting with other mobs, gods, and other things.
but did he, for once, fight for your heart?
he did. but not for you, for guizhong. he fought alongside her when you weren’t there, were you just a second option? maybe you were. maybe you are.
neuvilette says you aren’t. he, word for word, promised that he wouldn’t be like your first love. so let him be the love that you need, let him be the one that you cherish, and you did.
so going to lantern rite with him, it was his wish when both of you had gotten together. you couldn’t say no to a pretty face.
i guess for neuvilette, meeting another dragon would be unpleasant. yes, it might sound possessive, but if you look on it at the good side (his side), it may not be so wrong.
especially because that dragon was once your first love. your first ever greatest. so he had all the reasons to get jealous!
zhongli looks devastated as he sees/smells another dragon scent on you, your aura illuminating a blue and white one. it wasn’t yellow and orange anymore. was morax replaced?
who is he to ask? someone who had left you, replaced and almost forgotten about you. so why bother asking if you still love him?
neuvilette wraps an arm around your waist from behind, your aura brightens as morax could only narrow his eyes. he wishes he was the cause of your aura changing and glistening. him and neuvilette had maintained eye contact, as if arguing firmly in their minds.
only they could see scents after all.
so, as cocky as neuvilette can be, he kissed you on the cheek as zhongli’s eyes wrinkled in envy.
“let’s go somewhere else.” neuvilette whispered, and you nodded.
and zhongli saw that faint little smirk on neuvilette’s lips when he saw his reaction. it’s making him pissed. why is he acting like this anyway? it’s because he only realized now that he loves you. not guizhong.
zhongli feels this inkling pain deep in his heart, it’s wrong. it hurts him so much, he feels so sorry for treating you the way you don’t deserve to be treated.
but it’s too late.
only in his dreams, you are his. but i guess he just woke up from his everlasting dream.
and he feels as if he won’t be getting that marvelous dream once more.
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made by @seaadc and @seaadc only!
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buddiebeginz · 10 days
Text
Saw this ridiculous thread on twitter that really deserves to be taken apart so lets go:
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First of all while it's obvious that Buck is attracted to T*mmy (and at this point likes him a lot considering they're now dating) in 7x04 the the main person who's attention he was trying to get was Eddie's. I did an entire breakdown of that ep btw for anyone who is still confused about what was really happening there.
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1.
Buck goes to see Maddie after the basketball incidient and this is how the conversation goes
Maddie: You didn't mean to hurt him did you?
Buck: I don't know. I was pissed you know. Seeing him and T*mmy being such good friends after only two weeks. I felt left out and I guess I was trying to get his attention.
I know that you B/T shippers desperately want to see 7x04 as Buck sent the entire episode being super smitten over T*mmy but that is just not the story that show is telling. The entire conversation that Maddie and Buck are having in this scene prior to T*mmy even being mentioned is about Eddie. Buck and Maddie are talking about Eddie's injury and how Buck thinks Eddie won't want to talk to him after what he did. The focus is on Eddie. Also it doesn't make any logical sense for Buck to be so upset and emotionally invested over some guy he barely knows. He's upset because he thinks Eddie his best friend can so easily replace him in his life.
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2.
You're defending T*mmy because you say he left the date not wanting to pressure Buck...yet he almost outed him in front of Eddie (someone T*mmy knows is important to Buck). By the time they were on their first date T*mmy already knew how new all of this was for Buck and how nervous he was, I mean the man was talking about how he was an ally ffs while he was on a date with a guy. And while Buck's comment about finding some hot chicks was embarrassing and I get T*mmy not liking it he should have had a little more understanding given where Buck is in his journey. Instead he made it worse by making that crass closet comment.
It's also just plain rude to go on a date with someone and then ditch them in the middle without making sure they have a way home and without any real explanation (I'm not talking about more extreme circumstances like your date just being an ahole btw). Sure T*mmy told Buck he didn't think he was ready but that was really all he said. Buck was likely left feeling like he was being punished for having a moment where he acted out of fear. T*mmy could have shared an Uber with Buck and talked to him on the way home and they could have seen if they wanted things to continue. But it was like at the first sign of Buck needing more support he bailed.
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3.
My personal feeling on the first kiss is that T*mmy really should have given something of an indication of his intentions before he kissed Buck.
Speaking as someone who is bi if I was into another woman and they were giving off the kind of vibes Buck was I wouldn't just jump in there and kiss them. I know they try to make everything more sexy for tv and it's the oldest trope in the book to have the hot guy grab the main's face and lay one on them but given all of the signals Buck was sending out T*mmy really should have gotten more confirmation beforehand.
I'm not accusing T*mmy of anything and clearly Buck liked the kiss and it was also clear in that loft scene he was attracted to T*mmy. Still the vibes he was giving off were also really nervous an unsure and he talked about Eddie 90% of the time literally moments before the kiss. Why jump in an kiss someone who seems that nervous and probably is into someone else? I don't know it's just issues I have with that scene.
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4.
When it comes to a lot of the discourse I see around between Buddie shippers and B/T shippers I feel like a major difference is in how we perceive the show. I feel like a lot of B/T shippers mostly just take the show at face value. If something is written a certain way and presented that way to you on the screen you take that as exactly what the story is saying but you're missing the more subtle messages in the writing.
Like the whole scene with Buck, T*mmy, and Eddie in the karaoke bar had a lot going on beyond just what the dialogue was saying and it was likely missed by those who weren't paying attention.
Yeah T*mmy was on call and yeah that could be a reason why he didn't dress up. Although as many have pointed out there's plenty of things he could have worn that would have made it easy for him to quickly change and get to work and still put an ounce of effort into something that was clearly important to Buck.
But the not dressing up wasn't even the biggest issue it was that when Buck seemed hurt by the fact that T*mmy didn't care enough to dress up T*mmy was just like it's not that big of deal get over it (in the demeanor with which he responded). Obviously it was just a silly bachelor party one Chim didn't even show up to and no one else even dressed up for it (besides Eddie) but for me it's another red flag showing that T*mmy doesn't listen to Buck and doesn't have his back like a (potential) partner should.
Also you can defend T*mmy all you want but very deliberate choices were made with this Buddie and T*mmy scene. They chose to have Eddie arrive first and call a lot of attention to what he was wearing. Right before they had T*mmy come in and have that whole convo about his lack of costume to Buck.
Multiple times in the episode they pointed out that Buddie were wearing a couples costume and that Eddie is the one who picked it out. Not only were they matching in the bachelor party outfits but if you look at their outfits in the later scenes while looking for Chim they're coordinated like spouses there too.
They chose to have Eddie be the one to stay with Buck when everyone else left. They chose to have Buddie partying alone when they could have easily had T*mmy there. Especially when you consider this is a much shorter season every scene and every ep means even more than it would in a normal season. If they were trying to build B/T and get the audience to warm to them showing them partying even showing B/T partying with Eddie would have been a great time to do that instead they only focused on Buddie.
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5.
I'm happy for B/T shippers that you got your kissing scene at the end but here's what I saw. In a very overstuffed episode they chose to have a ton of Buddie stuff including having Buck and Eddie show up together multiple times while everyone was out looking for Chimney. Meanwhile B/T got one small scene (which included Eddie) in the beginning and one kiss at the end away from everyone else (that immediately cut to Eddie and Chris). The kiss didn't even feel like it's main purpose was to further develop the B/T relationship, it felt like it happened more to serve Buck's bi storyline so he could come out to everyone.
Also others have pointed this out but just because B/T have physical chemistry doesn't mean they have romantic chemistry. They seem like very different people. Too different in my opinion. In what little scenes of conversation they've actually had I just see two people who won't be compatible long term.
Juxtapose that with Eddie and Buck and just how much alike they are while at the same time being so uniquely themselves. How they're able to call each other out when they need to like when Eddie pointed out how it was maybe not the greatest idea for Buck to come out at his sister's wedding.
You can dislike Buddie and ship B/T all you want but you can't deny how all Buck and Eddie have to do is stand near each other and they exude chemistry and compatibility. People who don't even watch the show assume they're together and there's not even one scene of them kissing. Yet the main reason people ship B/T is because they're two hot guys who've kissed twice. There is no other real point of substance there. Now tell me again which fandom is guilty of fetishization here?
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6.
You can call us the delusional ones all you want but EVERYTHING is screaming in your face that T*mmy isn't going to last forever. I don't even care if he comes back for season 8. T*mmy and B/T have a giant ticking clock over them and sooner or later their time will be up. There is no way Tim, the writers, ABC, Ryan, Oliver, etc would pass on the phenomenon that Buddie will be once it goes canon. The show already gets a ton of attention just from talking about the possibility of them going canon. Every single article where they even mention Buddie gets attention.
It's hilarious to me that you say the actors and showrunners are what rooting for B/T? In all the the interviews they talk about Buddie now. Tim literally was saying he cares about Buddie too in his response to a fan the other day. He literally said he included Buddie scene specifically for our fandom. Oliver is always posting and liking stuff related to his scenes with Ryan and Buddie. When Ryan gets to do interviews he gushes about Buddie and Oliver. Meanwhile B/T which is supposed to be the canon ship in this important queer storyline they're doing barely gets mentioned. Let me know when that same energy is being given to your ship.
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gojoidyll · 1 month
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I was wondering...Aventurine's s/o who sometimes is misgendered as a man (fem! reader)
Any thoughts? 👀
I have many thoughts about this anon, some I would definitely like to share 🤭
Let's see, to me, if you're being misgendered and Aventurine just so happens to see it, then I can see it happening in the workplace, at the casino, or on a date.
But mostly at the workplace because lets face it, the IPC haven't exactly been painting themselves as the good guys lately 😐 and I can see a few of your coworkers being this way (be it new employees who do it by accident or stubborn old ones who are just plain rude).
"You should go ask him. He knows a lot about the subject and could help out with the project."
You weren't far away from the people who were having the conversation since you all were in the same office, and since it was such a small office housing only seven or so desks, it was easy to hear every single conversation and know who was talking about who.
"Thank you, I will!"
You didn't want to turn away from your computer despite the heavy thumps of footsteps coming up behind you. Instead, you tried to ignore it and continue typing away at your report. Your eyes heavy and focused on the computer as your fingers mercilessly hit the innocent keys.
"Sir? Excuse me, sir?"
You resisted the urge to groan aloud. This always happens. Mainly for two reasons. One, the stubborn fool who keeps misgendering you refuses to acknowledge that you're a woman. And two, the same stubborn fool insists to new employees of the IPC that you're a man and should be referred to as such.
And with a final tap on your shoulder, you sighed. Your feet planted on the ground as you swiveled your chair around.
"That's ma'am to you."
The new recruit was quick to fumble and bowed, "I'm sorry, ma'am! I was told that you could help me with- blah blah blah blah blah," you couldn't care about what he was saying. Not when your alarm went off, signaling your lunch break.
"Sounds interesting newbie, but if you'll excuse me, I'm going to lunch."
You didn't let the new employee get another word in as you got up and did a little stretch before walking out of the office while also being sure to ignore the smug looking bastard who waved at you while you left. Working in such a place exhausted you, and you hoped to hide your tiredness when you met up with the one person who made it all worth it. But...he noticed immediately the moment you sat down in his comfy couch in his own personal office.
He was already beside you when you sat down, and instead of grabbing his own food, his mesmerizing eyes bore into you.
"What's wrong?"
His voice always sounded tender when he talked with you, especially when he knows you've been having a bad day. He doesn't use his condescending voice or the voice he finely tunes to get people to like him. He is just ... being himself. Granted it's behind closed doors, but you were thankful that he didn't wear his bluff around you.
"It's...," to be honest, you've been dealing with this coworker for a long whilen now, and even though it's hurts being called something you're not, you thought you could handle it yourself. Though, lately, it's just been getting harder, "it's just this coworker of mine. He ... he keeps misgendering me. I know it sounds stupid and that I'm probably just being too sensitive but..."
"Name."
"Huh?"
"The name, give me the name of this coworker of yours," Aventurine said smoothly as he leaned into you, his arm slung around your shoulders as his fingers lightly twirled a strand of your hair between his fingertips. His warmth immediately engulfed you into a comforting embrace that you couldn't help but lean into. Despite being such a calculating person, he always had a way of disarming you and making you feel safe.
"Aven... it's nothing. I just, I just need to vent a little is all."
"Venting is great and all, but that doesn't solve the problem. Besides, who told you that you're being too sensitive anyway? Being hurt over something isn't something to be ashamed of. So, the name. Give it to me, and i can make it all better. Promise."
His tone held that usually lilt in his voice that scratched your ears just right. Honestly, he could be telling you the nightmares within a black hole, and you would be putty in his hands.
And so, with little resistance, you relinquished the name of the stubborn coworker who keeps giving you trouble. Granted, you did worry that you were getting special privileges since your boyfriend was in a higher station than you, but don't worry about that. You are Aventurine's significant other after all, there is nothing wrong with relying on him every once and awhile. ;)
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blushweddinggowns · 1 year
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Part 1 Part 3
It was an easy decision, proposing to Steve. Party because Eddie has been daydreaming about it since they got together, but mostly because he knew there was no way Steve would say no.
No, when a guy almost dies for you twice, chooses to move into a shitty apartment with you vs maintain financial security with his rich parents, and literally says he wants to be with you forever, it's a pretty safe bet that he's not going to say no to the idea of marriage.
All Eddie needed to do was get a ring. Easy.
Except it was anything but.
At the rate he was going, the proposal was never going to happen. He had gone through four jewelry stores in a span of three days, and he hadn’t found shit. They were all…wrong. Either too big and fancy, or too plain and generic. Nothing that Eddie could see his Steve wearing everyday.
In general, Steve just wasn’t a jewelry kind of guy. The one time he tried out Eddie’s rings for fun, he hated them. He was too hands on for anything clunky, and it was actually impressive how often he got them caught on his clothes in a twenty-four hour period.
But the simple bands weren’t right either. Maybe Eddie was just an obsessive sap, but…they weren’t special enough for someone as wonderful as Steve, and Eddie was running out of ideas.
So he called who he always did when he was stuck. He picked up on the third ring, and Eddie went straight into it, “Waaaaayne, I need help. And I needed it like yesterday.”
Wayne chuckled on the other end, the sound automatically bringing a smile to Eddie’s face, “What have you done now?”
“I’m in ring hell. I’m trying to ask Steve to marry me but-”
“Don’t tell me you already bought one.” Wayne interrupted, voice stern, “Did you?”
Eddie frowned, confused. He didn’t…he didn’t think Wayne would disapprove, not after all this time. Eddie swallowed, trying to hide the hurt in his voice, “Why Wayne, is that disapproval I hear? And no, I haven’t bought anything yet.”
Wayne sighed, catching onto it anyway, “Son, I don’t give a shit about what you two decide to do. If anything, you should have locked him down years ago.”
The knot in his stomach instantly disappeared, Eddie grinned, relieved, “Okay, first of all, rude. Second, if you don’t care, why shouldn't I buy a ring?”
“Because I have one already.”
Eddie stopped dead in his tracks, almost dropping the phone, “Huh?”
“Eddie, I know you, and I know Steve. I knew this day was coming and…I’ve been ready for it. It was my grandmother’s, but it’s from the 30s so don’t worry. It’s not too flowerly or anything like that.”
Jesus, Eddie was tearing up. He hadn’t expected that. It’s not like Wayne had ever had a problem with their relationship, he was beyond supportive. But Eddie hadn’t realized just how deep that support went, “I-I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t gotta say anything. I’ll send it to you and if it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work. But I think he’d like it.”
Eddie nodded, forgetting that Wayne couldn’t see him,“Y-yeah, sounds good. Sounds perfect.”
“Good, I’ll send it tonight. And you’ll tell me how it all turns out after, right?”
“Of course. And um, hey Wayne?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you man.”
He couldn’t see it, but Eddie could hear the smile in his voice, “I love you too kiddo.”
Eddie hung the phone up on the high, nervously excited to see thing. He watched the mail like a hawke for the next week, grateful that Steve was out when it finally arrived. He tore into the small package, like a kid on Christmas morning. Rose gold and engraved, and already re-sized. Wayne really had thought of everything.
It was the exact kind of ring that Eddie hadn’t been able to find anywhere. Pretty but subtle, perfect for his Steve. He loved it, and he was almost sure Steve would love it too. And he wouldn’t have to wait long to find out, because he was going to do it the second he saw him.
Eddie didn’t care if it was corny, he was going to be on one knee the moment Steve opened the door. He sat infront of it, his stomach doing flips as he waited. There was really no reason to be nervous, Steve couldn’t have made it clearer that he was going to get a yes, but he still was.
Steve just had that effect on him.
An hour later, the tell-tale sound of keys in the door hit him. He scrambled into position, heart racing, as he waited, stuck between being intensely excited and vaguely wanting to throw up.
“I’m home- what are you doing?” Steve stopped dead in his tracks, eyes wide at the sight of Eddie kneeling on the floor, ring in hand.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” Eddie laughed, nervous as he watched the emotions flash across his face. He had a hand over his mouth, eyes sparkling as he looked down at Eddie, waiting for him to continue.
Words, right. He had those. Eddie took a deep breath, shaking himself out of his staring to speak,
"Stevie, you are my whole world. And I don’t go a day without thanking the universe for letting you in my life, because you made it complete. I…I never thought I would ever be as happy as you make me. You were my first love. And I want- no, I need you to be my last because there is no one else in this world that I want to be with. So…baby will you marry me?”
Eddie should have seen it coming, but that didn’t stop the surprised oomf he made when Steve tackled him to the ground. The next thing he knew he was being kissed all over his face, a manically thrilled Steve on top of him.
He grinned down at him, happy tears already falling, “Abso-fucking-lutely.”
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helloalycia · 5 months
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𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐓𝐎 [𝐎𝐍𝐄] — 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐘 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐃
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summary: after you hear about Lucy Gray's breakup, you wonder if you'll finally have a chance with her. Of course, your father, the head peacekeeper, can never know you like the 'troublemaker' from the Covey.
warning/s: none i don't think?
author's note: okay so after a million years i finally got this one written, an idea that came to me like a week ago and took forever to write because life lol. I hope you all like it anyway, it’s a three parter and was fun to write :)
something to note - Y/BF/N = your best friend's name and Y/D/N = your dad's name
two / three / masterlist / wattpad
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"...and I told him that he shouldn't say stuff he doesn't mean, especially when it's just plain old rude, but of course he didn't care..."
I hummed, nodding along as my best friend, Y/BF/N, rambled about an encounter she'd had with one of her neighbours, but I was also glancing around the hallway casually. It was the end of the school day and I was waiting for Y/BF/N to collect her books from her locker so we could go, but she easily got distracted.
Apparently so did I though, as my eyes fell upon Lucy Gray Baird, a talented musician and outsider in my grade, part of a group called the Covey that everyone either tended to avoid or fell in love with for their musical charm. I always found her fascinating, beautiful, as many others did, but she had a boyfriend which pretty much meant there was no chance there. Still, it didn't hurt to admire her.
She was talking to another member of the Covey, Tam Amber, when she accidentally walked into none other than the mayor's daughter, Mayfair Lipp. It wouldn't have mattered so much if there wasn't a clear tension between both girls.
"If only you could open your eyes like you open your damn mouth," Mayfair snapped at her, making passers-by glance their way, listening in.
"Was an accident," was all Lucy Gray said, and she didn't seem very apologetic.
Mayfair scoffed. "'Course it was. A lot of things with you seem to be, don't they?"
Lucy Gray rolled her eyes as Tam Amber tugged her away, the two girls going their separate ways. Y/BF/N, who had stopped talking to observe the argument with everyone else, tried to stifle her laughter.
"Wow, their hatred for each other does not seem to be going away, does it?" she commented to me.
"Do you know why they don't like each other?" I asked, curious.
Y/BF/N shrugged, closing her locker. "Mayfair's jealous, I think. Dunno why, since she's literally the mayor's daughter and the Covey are just a bunch of weirdos singing for their supper."
"They aren't weird," I corrected her as we walked outside. "They're talented. A little different, is all."
"Same thing," Y/BF/N mumbled. "Don't go saying that to your dad. You know how he feels about them."
I tried not to laugh. "He feels like that about anything fun."
Y/BF/N cracked a smile, before chuckling. "Very true."
My father was the head peacekeeper of our district, a very strict man who was a little too overprotective for my liking. Don't get me wrong, I was grateful for the hard work he put in which meant I could live in the nice part of town and never struggle to have a meal on the table. That was something not everyone in District 12 could count on. But it also meant he hated anything that wasn't to his standard.
He had high hopes for me, hoping I'd land a rare but possible job in the Justice Building when I finished school. It wasn't too far fetched considering I was a straight A student. But he also thought I was a goody two shoes who followed the rules – oh, how that couldn't have been far from the truth. If he ever found out how I snuck out at night to visit the Hob and flirt with most of his unit, I was certain he'd have a heart attack.
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Being the head peacekeeper's daughter meant that it was out of my hands when he had to attend something important and I, too, had to be present. For example, today was Mayfair's birthday and the mayor had thrown a formal affair in her honour, of which my family had been invited to.
I tolerated Mayfair, but despite our similar stance in society, we didn't share anything else in common. She was too snarky and easily irritated and always killed the mood, so I remained polite with her and that was it. Her party was as boring as she was, full of the mayor's friends, the odd Capitol resident from her dad's circle, and their kids whom I wasn't sure Mayfair even spoke to. If she had any real friends, they weren't here.
Her home was pretty big, for a District 12 house anyway, which made sense since the mayor was the richest in the district, though poor by any other Panem standard. I kept to myself during her celebrations, occasionally chatting with my mum and her friends or picking at the snacks table. That was until a special performance, dedicated solely to Mayfair from her father himself, was announced. An amused grin fell on my lips when I saw who it was.
The Covey.
"Ladies an' gentlemen, how are we feelin' this afternoon?!" Lucy Gray said into her mic at the front of the space cleared in the huge dining room.
Everybody began to clap as I saw the mayor tugging his daughter to the left of the makeshift stage. To say she was angry was an understatement. But if Lucy Gray had any qualms with the arrangement, she didn't let it show.
"This one's for the birthday girl," Lucy Gray continued, smiling widely at the glaring girl in question. "Happy birthday, dear Mayfair."
After the count of three, the Covey were plucking their strings, banging their drums and joining together in a melodious rendition of 'Happy Birthday', and I tried very hard not to laugh as Mayfair was forced to endure it all. To be fair, the Covey were great, and when they performed several songs after that, half the party were cheering them on, either drunk or genuinely amazed by their talent.
Once they'd finished performing for a moment and took a break, Mayfair stormed off with her father in tow, who was attempting not to draw attention to the mishap with his party guests. Again, I couldn't help but stifle my laughter at the turn of events.
Lucy Gray caught my eyes again though, as she was approaching the snacks table I was sat at the edge of, in search of something.
"You guys performed great out there," I said to her when she was close enough, and she glanced up at me, before recognition flashed across her face and she began to smile.
"Why thank you."
"Bet you loved the gig," I said lightheartedly, and it took her a moment to realise what I was implying when she began to laugh.
"It wasn't ideal," she said in a low yet amused voice, "but a job's a job. And technically Mayfair's daddy hired us, not her."
I chuckled to myself. "Hey, it was pretty funny to witness. I'm not complaining."
She shot me a disapproving look as she tossed a grape into her mouth, but a playful smile was breaking out on her lips.
"I didn't know you and Mayfair were so close," she said with intrigue, flipping the conversation to me.
"We're not," I corrected. "Kind of a package deal when my dad's invited to these things. But your performance certainly made this whole thing worth it."
She began to smile, cheeks turning pink slightly. "You've seen our performances enough times now. You ain't sick of me yet?"
I gasped sarcastically. "Lucy Gray, I could never be sick of you. What nonsense are you talkin' about?"
Her smile widened with amusement, before her eyes flickered behind me. "Your daddy's coming. I should go. Wouldn't want him to find out about your sneakin' out and blame it on me."
"As far as he knows, you're a stranger," I played along with a teasing wink, before straightening up and turning around to face my dad.
I heard Lucy Gray walking away behind me just in time for my dad to smile down at me.
"Y/N, how are you enjoying the party?" he asked.
I smiled innocently. "It's great, dad, thanks for bringing me."
He nodded. "Good, I'm glad."
I glanced over my shoulder as he began to talk about what the mayor was saying to him earlier, searching for the Covey girl. Then I spotted her, talking to her family across the room and also shooting me a glance, her cheeky smile on her lips, mirroring mine.
A little flirting didn't hurt anybody, right?
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With my father's job came many responsibilities that meant he had a lot of late nights at their base camp, including the weekend when I sneaked out the house to meet Y/BF/N at the Hob and have some fun. It was difficult at first, making sure I timed it right so my mum would be asleep when I left and also generally sneaking downstairs and out the back door. But the more I did it, the easier it became, and soon enough it was second nature.
By the time I reached the Hob tonight, everything was in full swing. The Covey were performing as usual and everybody was up and dancing. I found Y/BF/N at a table, flirting with some boys from our grade. It didn't take long for me to join them, and between the two of us, we landed free drinks just because we played our cards right.
It was so freeing at the Hob, not having to worry about my dad breathing down my neck or about being such a goody two shoes in his eyes. No, here I could do whatever I wanted. The night was always young and nobody could stop me from having fun.
I found myself dancing around with a peacekeeper, Terrence, who had finished his shift for the day and always happened to be around when I did. He'd been flirting for a while and it was easy to play along, have a little fun.
"It's too bad I can't be lookin' for a wife," he said with a boyish grin as he spun me around. "You'd be my first choice."
I tried not to laugh as I wrapped my arms around his neck. "Yeah, that's too bad for you."
"Your dad would kill me if he knew what I was doing," he said, leaning in close for a kiss.
But I tilted his head and pressed one to his cheek instead, before saying in his ear, "Good thing he won't ever find out, right?"
He snorted. "Right."
I smiled contently, before letting him spin me around some more. It was always so easy to do what I wanted here without the fear of it getting back to my father because either everyone was scared of him and what power he held, or they knew it was my word against theirs and my father would never believe them. Besides, I was doing no harm. Some people just wanted a dance and a little flirting, which was exactly what I gave them. What was the big deal?
After finishing my dance with Terrence, I joined Y/BF/N's side again, grabbing her hands and pulling her onto the dancefloor for one final dance for the evening. She laughed, letting me, and we began to chat as we swung about gently.
"How was your dance with Terrence?" she asked with amusement. "You still leadin' the poor boy on?"
"It's not leading him on if he knows it's just a dance," I reminded her. "Besides, it can never happen. He's in my dad's unit. And I don't even like him like that."
"You just flirt with him for fun," she said sarcastically, but I grinned anyway.
"Duh."
Laughing again, she let me spin her around, and then my eyes found sight of Lucy Gray beside the stage. She was talking to her boyfriend, Billy Taupe, the two of them looking awfully cosy with one another. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, knowing it was just an irrational jealousy, nothing more. I'd never even hinted that I'd liked her, and she'd been taken for a while now, but it was easy to wonder what if.
"You're staring," Y/BF/N noticed, before following my gaze. "Ooh, Y/N, you've gotta let that one go. She's trouble, I heard."
"I didn't even say anything," I defended myself.
"You don't need to," she said knowingly. "Your face says it all. And I'm warning you now. It's not worth it."
I rolled my eyes lightheartedly. "Yeah, yeah, just keep dancing, idiot."
She stifled a chuckle and we got back to it, but not without me stealing one last lingering glance at Lucy Gray.
Of course, after that evening, news of her and Billy Taupe travelled all around school. Rumour had it that he'd cheated on her with Mayfair and, as a result, they'd broken up. Of course it was horrible to hear, but admittedly, the first thing I wondered was did I finally have a chance?
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Almost two weeks after hearing the news of Lucy Gray's breakup, I was at the Hob again. I'd been watching the Covey perform all evening, though this time without Billy Taupe who was permanently out of the band it seemed. I'd been waiting for Lucy Gray to be free so I could attempt to make a move.
And after what felt like forever, she finally took to the bar to have some water, and I sucked up a breath before approaching her with a skip in my step.
"Lucy Gray," I started with a smile, earning her attention. "You okay?"
She took a sip before nodding at me. "Yeah, just havin' a break."
"Just a break from singing, right?" I asked, making her quirk a brow. I continued, "Because I'd love to ask you to dance."
A smile grew on her lips, matching the sparkle in her eyes. "I've seen you around, Y/L/N. You probably ask everyone that, don't you?"
I resisted the urge to laugh. "Without sounding big headed, they ask me. So, no, not everyone. Just you. I'd like to dance with you, if you'll have me."
She pursed her lips, eyes flickering between mine considerately and in a way that purposely left me waiting, hoping she'd say yes. Finally, she sighed lightheartedly. "Well, I suppose if you'd like it, who am I to decline?"
My smile widened as I put out my hand and she gladly accepted. The rest of the Covey were playing a song slow enough to have us swaying to the melody, joining the other dancers on the floor.
"You're pretty good at this," Lucy Gray mumbled with amusement, hands wrapped around my shoulders and her head looking over it so I couldn't see her expression.
"Can't be stepping on your toes now, can I?" I said quietly, as to not interrupt the momentary peace that had washed over the Hob. "What sort of impression would that make?"
She snickered. "And why would you be tryin' to make any impression, darlin'? It's just a dance, ain't it?"
A smile crept on my lips. "That it is. But you never know."
She pulled back for a moment, honey-coloured eyes glancing between mine as if trying to decipher my words. I thought I was pretty straightforward, but she clearly didn't agree. Finally, her smile mirrored mine and she leaned her head on my shoulder as we swayed to the song.
It was only a few minutes long, of which, despite my apparent calmness, I was a little nervous to be dancing with such a beautiful girl. I hoped she couldn't feel my heart racing between us. It certainly didn't help when she began to hum lowly, clearly knowing the words to Maude Ivory's ballad, and the deep reverberation of her humming echoed in my ear.
When the song came to an end, everybody parted and applauded the band for their song. Meanwhile, Lucy Gray pulled apart, hands moving from my shoulders and to my hands, squeezing them gently.
"Thanks for the dance," I said to her with a suppressed smile.
"Thanks for askin'," she replied.
My smile was permanently fixed on my face as I watched her walk away, back to the stage for her next number. It wasn't until Y/BF/N appeared out of nowhere, patting me on the back, that I was pulled from my Lucy Gray-induced stupor.
"Someone's crushing," she teased, and I simply ignored her as I glanced back at the brunette onstage.
I was lucky she was giving me a chance at all.
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After that initial dance, it became almost tradition to dance with her every time I could, and she always accepted, for some reason giving me the time of day. Visiting the Hob had a new, exciting meaning now, and not just to have some fun fooling around.
Getting to know her more, hearing her talk about her love of performing or something that happened to her that day, meant we were growing closer. Not quite friends, but not anything less either. We'd see each other around school and greet each other, or she'd walk past me in the markets and flash me a smile. Y/BF/N thought I was insane to like her, but I couldn't help it.
A few weeks after that initial dance, she was rambling about some frustrating things before her show, including her shoes not tying quite right, or the step on the stage being a little dodgy and making everyone trip up. One of her complaints was about her red lipstick, which had officially ran out and was her favourite one to wear for performing. Lipstick and makeup in general were rare finds, and she must have searched around a lot to get it, but now she couldn't replace it, not for a while anyway, and it was upsetting her more than she let on.
I couldn't help it, of course. I had to rectify the issue. So, I found a way to trade some meaningless things at the markets in exchange for a red lipstick, one that looked fresh from the Capitol and that I knew Lucy Gray would love. Later that evening, after sneaking out of my house, I headed straight for the garage behind the Hob that the Covey had claimed, where they prepared for their shows.
When I entered, everybody was doing different things, from tuning their instruments to fixing their hair.
"Lucy Gray, Y/N's here!" someone shouted in a teasing voice, and I didn't get chance to see who as Lucy Gray suddenly appeared, stealing my attention.
"Hey, darlin', what're you doing here?" she asked with a bright smile, looking as beautiful as ever.
"Just wanted to wish you luck," I told her, returning her smile. "And of course, bring you a little something."
Her dark brows knitted together above confused eyes, and I took the lipstick from my jacket pocket before holding it out to her.
"You were saying how you felt weird performing without it," I explained as she curiously took it to inspect it, "so I got you another one. Can't have the iconic Lucy Gray without her iconic red lipstick, can we?"
An amazed smile grew on her lips as she looked at the colour, and I couldn't stop looking at her.
"Y/N, this... how did you get this?" she asked with a laugh, meeting my gaze.
I shrugged, and she rolled her eyes before hugging me.
"Thank you so much," she said gratefully, pulling back to grin at me. "I... I don't know what to say."
"You don't need to say anything, just wear it," I said.
She laughed again before going up to the mirror hung on the wall, applying the lipstick as she always did before  every show. And when she turned around, I knew I'd made the right choice. As always, she stole my breath away.
"You look beautiful," I told her truthfully. "But you always do."
The pink tingeing her cheeks was contrasted to the deep red of her lips, but she remained confident as she stepped towards me knowingly.
"There's only one way to truly test it," she said, and I didn't get chance to ask what she meant before she pressed a slow but firm kiss on my cheek.
I was dumbstruck, not expecting that at all, and she pulled back with a satisfied smile. Her hand ghosted my cheek, thumb rubbing gently on the inevitable lipstick stain on my face.
"I'll see you out there," she said, dropping her hand but not her smile. "Thanks again, Y/N."
Still reeling at the sensation of her lips on my cheek, I couldn't find the words to reply. She laughed before returning to the Covey, and somehow I found myself walking to the Hob to sit with Y/BF/N. As soon as she spotted the lipstick on my cheek, the laughing and teasing began, but it didn't mean much when Lucy Gray walked out onstage, her matching red-painted lips curved into a grin.
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It was easy to fall quicker and harder for Lucy Gray after that, so much in fact that the only thing I wanted to do was kiss her for real.
No matter how much time we spent together, the shameless flirting and banter wasn't enough. I didn't want to be platonic, I wanted more, and I was sure she might have wanted it too.
One evening at the Hob, we were both sat at the bar chatting. Well, she was chatting and I was very much distracted by the sharp curve of her jaw and the curly ringlets of hair that kept spilling into her eyes and the way her mouth moved with each word she spoke and–
"You're not listenin', are you?" she asked lightheartedly, humoured smirk on her lips, matching the quirk of her brow.
That seemed to be the final straw for me, and I couldn't help but lean in, kissing her. Only as I did it did I realise the insanity of my actions, the carelessness, and I pulled away just as quickly. Before I could even scold myself for acting so recklessly, endless apologies on the tip of my tongue, something caught my eye from behind her.
My eyes widened when I recognised the person who had just walked into the Hob. It was my father, the head peacekeeper who hated coming in here because he believed it was a distraction and a bad influence. He was here, and he'd just walked in with some of his peacekeeper friends.
And I was sat in here, a little too close to a girl he also deemed a bad influence. Oh, shit.
"My dad," was all I could get out, before I forgot everything that had happened with Lucy Gray and immediately threw myself over the bar, hiding behind it.
"What are you doin'?!" Lucy Gray leaned over, looking down at me with a puzzled expression.
I couldn't have hunkered down anymore if I tried. "Dad. Doorway. Now!" I whisper-shouted, as if he'd suddenly hear me from all the way across the room.
She must have looked and recognised him as her shadow disappeared and she was no longer trying to talk to me. As I formulated a plan to escape, hoping the full house and loud music would be the perfect distraction, I heard a familiar voice nearing.
"Commander Y/L/N!" Lucy Gray exclaimed loudly, and my heart sank at the possibility of getting caught. "Hi!"
He hesitated, before responding, quite literally just above me. "Lucy Gray, right? The Covey. You performed at Mayfair's birthday a couple of months ago."
I could practically picture the grin on her face as she answered enthusiastically, "The one an' only!"
Sounding a little more laid back than usual, he said, "It was an excellent performance."
"Why, thank you, sir," she replied kindly.
It was quiet between them for a moment, as he ordered a drink with the bartender who thankfully seemed to understand why I was hiding right next to his feet, but he mustn't have left afterwards, as Lucy Gray spoke up.
"Oh, they'll bring your drinks to your table, sir."
"It's fine, I'll wait," he said dismissively, and Lucy Gray merely hummed in response, but I didn't hear her leave.
My heart was racing as I didn't dare move a muscle. My father was stood right next to me, only a bar between us, and I was sure he'd kill me if he knew I was here. Why the hell was he even here?! This was so unlike him!
But no, I couldn't think about that right now. I could only focus on leaving before he discovered my presence.
"So, are you performing here?" my dad asked Lucy Gray in an awkward attempt at filling the silence. He was never good at small talk.
"Uh-huh," she responded just as awkwardly, and I appreciated that, despite my previous mistake with her, she was still willing to keep my secret.
"Nice," was all he said. "I look forward to it. The officers say you're really good."
She didn't reply, must have smiled or nodded or something, because the conversation ended and I was back to hearing the blood rushing in my ears.
After what felt like forever, I heard the bartender serve my dad his drink, and then the latter wished Lucy Gray a good evening before leaving. I didn't dare move, not until I was certain, but Lucy Gray banged the top of the bar to get my attention.
"He's on the other side talking to some officers," she assured me.
"I need to leave out the back," I said, not showing my head just yet. "He'll kill me."
"Okay, just wait," she instructed, and I did just that until I realised she had rounded the bar and was holding her hand out to me. "Come on."
Accepting her hand, I let her keep a look out before she dragged me through the back and out the door, away from my father's prying eyes.
A sigh of relief escaped me as I was in the clear, and Lucy Gray was laughing at my expense.
"That was close," she said between laughter, glancing back as the door closed behind us.
Straightening up, I nodded in agreement. "It was. Thanks for the assist."
She settled on an amused smile before her eyes met mine and her expression softened. "You know, you were in the middle of somethin' back there."
And just like that, the mortifying realisation of kissing her returned to memory, and I was instantly about to apologise.
"Yeah, I–"
She cut me off with a kiss, just as abrupt as mine, but unlike me, she didn't pull away, and I was left to melt into her lips, savouring the warmth of her skin pressed to mine. Her hand cupped my cheek, fingertips pressing down gently, and I sighed into her lips as she began to pull away for air.
"That was... unexpected," I muttered, lips still tingling.
She tried not to laugh. "As unexpected as you kissin' me before?"
I exhaled, slightly embarassed, and she licked her lips before taking my hand and squeezing it gently.
"You should probably head home before your daddy finds you out here," she said, a hint of humour in her voice.
"Home, right," I agreed, before meeting her eyes. "I'll see you at school tomorrow?"
She grinned. "See you then."
I smiled softly before kissing her hand and leaving. It was safe to say I couldn't sleep the rest of the night, my only thoughts of the curly-haired Covey girl who'd stolen my heart.
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Aita for telling my mom not to invite grandma to my dead dad’s birthday dinner?
For context, my (19M) dad (44M) died in January of ‘24. He was a dick and I don’t miss him, but he was my mom (46F)’s husband and I’ve been there for her through the grieving process. Unfortunately, Mom’s mother (80F) has taken over my mom’s grief and has made it about her.
For what I mean, it’s that Grandma wouldn’t let my mom stand next to my dad as he was dying in the hospital bed from jaundice and cancer, was praying very loudly that her son-in-law would get better and putting her hands all over my dad’s chest, kept comparing what my dad was going through to how her 7th husband died back in ‘09 (also cancer but not the same), and overall was just obnoxious during the worst moment of my Mom’s life.
This isn’t a new thing for grandma to do. Grandma is just a dick. She’s openly racist against Asian people, she’s stupidly Homophobic (but not towards me because I’m family and I’m ber favoritr grandkid because I’m not afraid to talk smack about people who get on my nerves. barf.), and any achievement that my Mom receives, Grandma has a story about how she won something even better.
It has gotten worse when my Mom’s dad (85M) moved in with us for health reasons. Grandpa was Grandma’s 3rd husband and their marriage didn’t end amicably. Still, it’s been 40 years and Mom wants a relationship with her dad. Grandma HATES him. Constantly yelling at him for forgetting things when she comes over, brags about being there for us grandkids (I have two younger sisters) when we were little, and overall is just plain rude. My dad used to be able to just tell her to leave, but now that he’s gone, he can’t.
Well, last week would have been my dad’s 45th birthday. Mom wanted to celebrate by taking me and my youngest sister (the older sister just moved out for college and is across the country) to Dad’s favorite restaurant. As we were leaving, Mom was stressing very heavily about not inviting Grandma or Grandpa. She stressed about Grandpa because he often forgets to eat dinner and she stressed about Grandma because the old bitch has flamed my mom on Facebook for not being invited to events before, even though my mom knew that Grandma wouldn’t like those events (think late night soccer games, plays where I’m not a main role/has an 18+ theme, etc. stuff an old Christian woman who hates driving at night would hate)
I told Mom not to invite either grandparent and that the three of us (me, Mom, and little sister) should just go alone and enjoy some immediate family time. We did and we had a great time, talking with my little sister about her high school classes, talking shit about my mom’s coworkers, and me getting to infodump about Fallout because my mom just watched the tv show.
Towards the end of the night, my Mom gets a text from Grandma asking what we were up to for Dad’s birthday. I tell Mom not to answer and she doesn’t. Grandma then sends Mom a screenshot of the family Life360 map and starts sending walls off texts saying how hurt she is that she wasn’t invited, how neglected she is, how awful it is that she can’t spend time with the grandkids anymore, how Mom always prioritizes Grandpa over Grandma (he wasn’t even with us?) and shit like that. I take Mom’s phone and block Grandma for her since she’s sitting next to me, frozen and locked-up.
It’s been a week now and we haven’t spoken to Grandma. That’s fine by me, but I can see that my Mom is upset and regrets how the dinner went.
Here’s where I may be the asshole:
I was the one who said not to invite Grandma
I was the one who blocked Grandma
I butted my head into my Mom and Grandma’s relationship
Here’s why I think I’m not:
My mom has never been good at standing up for herself
My mom shouldn’t have to deal with this bullshit while grieving her fucking husband of 22 years
Not everything is about Grandma. She inserts herself into everything needlessly
TL;DR: Dad died. Went to dinner with my mom and sister to celebrate his birthday. Grandma found out and bitched a fit that she wasn’t invited. I took mom’s phone and blocked her. Now mom is stressing about losing her relationship with grandma. Aita?
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bonny-kookoo · 10 months
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Could you do a drabble for the night vision couple on how they first meet? 💜💜
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"Just throw her in there with 97, I don't have any use for either right now." A man sighs, before the door to Jungkook's cell is opened, light bleeding into the small room. "He's not cooperating, and she's basically nothing but a puppet." He laughs, before someone is pushed in, door closing again.
It's quiet. Jungkook's eyes slowly adjust to the darkness again, his night vision helping him to see who's now joined him in his loneliness.
You're sitting on your legs folded underneath you, barefoot, a small tail poking out of your grey shorts. Your hair seems tangled, and he can make out small bunny ears folded downwards, entire body trembling as if you're freezing. But the way you simply stare up the door you sit in front of gives him a different impression.
And even almost an hour after they left you, you're still longingly waiting, presumably for someone to pick you up again.
But no one comes.
"No one's gonna come get you." Jungkook says, and you visibly shrink into yourself, startled by his voice as if you only now realize he's there too. "I won't hurt you either." He shrugs, leaning back a bit against the wall.
You're looking at him now, but you don't move. You just stare at him, then at the door, then at him again. He can see the.. plastic string around your neck with what he assumes to be a tracker, and a yellow faded tag clipped onto one of your ears. 77 is your number- maybe that means you've been here a lot longer than him.
"Come closer." He offers, and you do almost instantly follow his words- giving him another clue as to what's going on with you. "...so that's what they've done to you in here, huh.." He mumbles as he watches you sit patiently in front of him, seemingly awaiting another command. It's probably been drilled into you to just blindly follow whatever is being said without ever questioning or resisting.
He's seen it in a friend of his, years back. He's recovered now- but you're just the same, if not even worse.
"An earth-hybrid, huh.." He mumbles, and one of his tentacles curiously reaches out to carefully lift one of your ears to inspect, making Jungkook push it back. "Hey, that's rude!" He scolds it, making it slowly retreat away.
You look spooked, eyes wide open.
"I'm planning on getting out of here." He tells you, and you seem terrified of his words. "If you help me, I'll take you with me. You don't have to stay here, you know?" He asks, and you shake your head.
"I belong here." You say quietly, voice raspy and frail. "I have to stay." You tell him.
"No you don't- but I guess that's hard to understand for you right now.." He mumbles mostly to himself as he looks at you with a saddened expression. "Sleep for now, I guess. You can take whatever corner you like." He offers, making you look around in panic.
Right. He probably shouldn't phrase things like this considering you won't know what to do with a choice.
"Sleep here, on the left." He says, pointing to where a plain mattress is placed. You instantly do as he says, curling up there immediately, and he hates how you still softly shiver even with your eyes closed and body resting.
He wonders how you got tied up in all of this. Maybe you were just as clueless as he was when he joined the research program- or maybe you never had a choice in the first place. Who knows.
For now, he enjoys the company, even if you're not very chatty.
It's better than nothing.
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