#just not make them completely fucking invisible???

[jinwoosungs]

{ 158 }

penpal.

academy arc

jinwoo sung x fem.reader

were you going crazy?

what was up with those shadows surrounding your classmate?

settled off to the left side of the classroom, you watch sung jinwoo from your periphery, seeing what looked liked dark wisps surrounding the entirety of his form. the boy was simply reading the pages of his textbook, yet something about him terrified you.

you weren't sure just how long you had been staring at him, your gaze following the tiny wisps of shadow as it seemed to dance around him-

before stiffening when your gaze met with his cool, grey eyes.

becoming paralyzed, you found that you couldn't look away from him, with jinwoo gently flashing you a kind smile. he opens his mouth, ready to greet you when four rowdy classmates interrupts him, surrounding his desk as low chuckles echo throughout the area.

you wanted to call out to them, to somehow warn them-

but no words could come out.

"wow, you're a big shot, aren't you? wearing that glove and all."

"why are you only wearing it on one hand, though? is there a black flame dragon in it or something?"

"ughhhh, my hand!! the black flame cow in my right hand is roaring-!!"

the four males began to laugh incessantly, making your anxiety shoot through the roof. you trail your gaze over to his gloved hand...

"hey, look. take off your glove. let me try it on." one of the boys demanded, further making you anxious at what was to come.

jinwoo remains silent, completely unfazed by these goons who were trying so hard to intimidate him. you had to fight back a grin, feeling the tiniest bit of admiration despite the anxieties you held for him.

"bastard, are your ears stuffed or something? why aren't you replying when we asked you to take off your glove?"

"what is it? do you have a tattoo on your left hand or something?"

jinwoo lets out a huff in response before taking off his glove, revealing a severely burned hand. your throat was felt clenching up in response once more when you caught a glimpse of his scars-

scars that appeared like deadly spiderwebs against his pale skin-

scars that were certainly not normal.

"what? never seen a burn wound before?" jinwoo's voice retained its tranquil quality, causing a wave of discomfort to be seen across the four rowdy students as they each clicked their tongues in utter disgust and disdain.

"we were just joking around, why get all serious?"

"just wear that glove again, i'm scared i'll get nightmares about it."

"FUCKING DISGUSTING."

you watch as the four boys proceed to exit the classroom, only to see a flash of purple from your periphery as an invisible force made them freeze before tripping over the doorway, landing headfirst into the floor (the sudden impact causing the students who were currently out in the hallway to laugh at them).

your heart was racing, nearly stifling you with its anxious beats when you look back at jinwoo to see him smiling at you. he calmly meets your gaze for a brief moment before giving you a wink (acting like he had shared some inside joke with you), catching you completely off guard.

he turns his attention back to his textbook and continues to read, sometimes sneaking glances at you while keeping that knowing smile on his handsome features, making you purse your lips in response.

looking away from him, you pretend to look down at your own handwritten notes, yet the sensation of his eyes being on you never seemed to cease.

{ ... }

the discomfort and anxiety you felt each time you sat next to jinwoo became too much to bear when you asked to switch seats with another girl from your class.

of course, she hadn't the slightest clue about the general offness seen with jinwoo. you knew that all she saw when it came to jinwoo was a cute boy that was top of the class.

but no one ever did notice the strange way his eyes seemed to glow-

how his mannerisms and style of speaking were a tad bit too mature for a mere teenager-

or how there were an almost constant presence of shadows surrounding him.

admittedly, sung jinwoo freaked you out.

even now, when you were literally three desks away from him, you swore that you could feel his piercing gaze against your back.

and you didn't know what you could have possibly done to have warranted such attention from him.

only when class had ended were you finally able to breathe, knowing that jinwoo had track for the next couple of hours. he had already left the classroom when you slowly began to pack your belongings together. adjusting the blouse of your uniform, you brush back your hair and begin making your way to the library to find a few good books to read before heading home.

the moment you stepped into the room filled with books, you let out a happy sigh. breathing in the fresh scent of pages, you eagerly step into the library and head to your favorite aisles.

fantasy... romance... mystery... gahhhh there's so many good books to read! it's a shame we can only check out 4 books at a time...

you think bitterly to yourself, taking a few books off the shelf when a flash of purple catches your attention. with a tilt of your head, you look out the window to see jinwoo settled directly below you. he was taking casual sips of his water all while sneaking glances at you from his periphery.

you pout, resting your free hand against the glass, gaze narrowing down at him. jinwoo realizes that he had caught your attention, fully facing you now as he lifted up his hands to give you a tiny wave. the suddenly soft and sweet action was enough to make the heat grow against your cheeks, with you unable to ignore the gesture as you wave back at him.

his smile was enough to distract you from the lengthening of your shadow made in response to the setting sun, distracting you from seeing the several, glowing purple eyes that remained hidden from within its dark depths.

{ ... }

the morning you came into your school, you saw something fall out of your locker, making you question how such a note could have gotten into the metal compartment.

for starters, it had a lock on it-

a lock that only you had the key to.

so just how did this folded note even reach you?

you shake your head and ignored all logic when it came to how you had gotten this note, proceeding to unfold the piece of paper as it read:

your eyes and smile are really beautiful. tell me, are you seeing anyone right now? ( s. monarch )

your throat turns dry upon reading the note, making your heart race in response.

was this person... actually flirting with you through a note?

and just what kind of nickname was s. monarch?

was this guy just really cocky or something?

yet, even knowing that this note was kind of cheesy, why did it succeed in making you smile?

you look down at the page to see that it had plenty of space for you to write your reply. trying to hide back your grin, you take out your favorite pen and decide to write:

thank you for your compliment. i am not seeing anyone at the moment, but i'm curious- who are you?

you sign off the note with your full name before placing it back within the confines of your locker, somehow knowing that your face was completely flustered right now.

your good mood had dramatically increased, and you found yourself looking forward to talking to this new penpal of yours.

{ ... }

your eyes and smile are really beautiful. tell me, are you seeing anyone right now?

thank you for your compliment. i am not seeing anyone at the moment, but i'm curious- who are you?

ah, i'm sorry, i can't say. it would ruin the mystery :)

mystery?? why would you wish to keep your identity a secret, monarch?

i have my reasons. besides... i want to use this chance to get to know you better.

may i ask how you're able to read and place new notes within my locker?

nope, sorry. it's still a secret ;)

ugh, you're kind of annoying, monarch -_-

i've been called much worse. :)

{ ... }

you spend the next couple of weeks exchanging notes with monarch, giggling each time he asked questions about you, like wanting to know your favorite color-

favorite books-

favorite foods-

just, anything and everything that made you who you are.

while you answered each of his questions, you would read his own responses pertaining to his own personal interests.

you could say purple and black are my favorite colors.

i wasn't much of a big reader before, but i'm enjoying a lot of murder mystery books. maybe you can recommend me some other good novels to read?

my favorite foods are pretty much anything that my mom makes, haha, but kimchi stew and bulgogi beef are my personal favorites.

altogether, he seemed like your typical, teenaged boy. the conversations you had with him remained light-hearted and fun.

but that all changed when you received today's note within your locker during your lunch break:

what do you think of sung jinwoo? i notice you tend to avoid him a lot.

your eyebrows furrow in response to his question, wondering why monarch would even care about how you felt when it came to jinwoo. however, you were always honest with him before, so you saw no reason to lie to him now.

you truly want an honest answer? well, to put it bluntly, jinwoo terrifies me. there's just this... really strange and dark aura about him? yet no one seems to notice it but me. sure, he's plenty polite on the surface, but... i feel like there's more to him than meets the eye. it's almost like... he has some secret, one that no one can understand, but keeps well hidden? ah, sorry, i am well aware that i am not making any sense, but it's how i really feel. jinwoo makes me feel anxious.

after finishing your note, you place it back within your locker before walking back to your classroom.

somehow, you couldn't ignore the sensation that you were missing something vital...

that there was some connection you just weren't seeing when it came to monarch and sung jinwoo...

{ ... }

your heart was racing when class ended for the day, and you wondered if monarch had already sent you a reply. with a noticeable bounce in your step, you go to your locker and unlock it, seeing a brand new note settled atop your various notebooks.

meet me at the library after school.

a painful clench was felt at the base of your throat, with you picking up the single note, your hands trembling as you fought to calm down. letting out a deep breath, you close your locker and brush back your hair, holding monarch's latest note close to your chest.

were you getting nervous?

why did your legs feel stiff and heavy all of a sudden?

with each step you take, getting oh so much closer to the library, you swore that your heart was going to choke you with its rapid palpitations-

praying that you wouldn't suddenly die of a heart attack, you open the door to the library-

only to see a lone figure standing in front of the window. the setting sun shining directly in your eyes made it difficult for you to see who it was, giving you no choice but to come closer to the person.

wiping away the tears from your eyes, you stepped closer and finally saw just who monarch truly was-

letting out a gasp when sung jinwoo himself was looking at you with those same, glowing eyes.

"you... you're monarch?!" that was all that you could manage, the anxiety immediately becoming worse as your heart continued to beat faster within the confines of your chest.

a rich chuckle escapes from his lips, "indeed, i am." he confirms your suspicions before taking a step closer to you.

jinwoo seemed unaware (or perhaps he just didn't care?) about your mounting discomfort and anxieties, still coming closer to you as you continued to take several steps away from him.

only when your back met with one of the sides of the bookshelves did you finally stop, with jinwoo smiling down at you. he places his gloved hand against the shelf, trapping you against him.

with his free hand, he gently traces at your bottom lip, making your breath hitch in response. despite how much of a nervous wreck he made you, you couldn't ignore the sudden warmth you felt spreading across your veins at the look of adoration he gives you.

"you have plenty of good reasons to fear me, i'll admit, but... is it really just fear and anxiety that you feel for me...?"

his whisper was almost seductive, trailing his fingertips down your features before gently grabbing a hold of your chin.

"or have you mistaken your anxieties with feelings of love for me, too?"

your breathing comes out in uneven breaths, and you could feel your cheeks further heating up in response as your heart skipped several beats-

"wait, you said too, did you just hint that- that you feel love for me?"

jinwoo's glowing purple eyes became alight with amusement as he gives you an eager nod. "obviously, these feelings of mine have only grown since the moment i saw you again..."

you became speechless then, watching with bated breath when jinwoo inches closer and closer to you, "despite how long it's been for me, you have not changed... not even a little bit, sarang."

your knees immediately become weaker when jinwoo calls you by that sweet term of endearment, and you nearly fell to your knees when he finally kisses you. his arms were kept locked around your waist, kissing you with a fervor that made you feel oddly nostalgic-

perhaps you had no reason to fear sung jinwoo after all; especially with how addicting his kisses had quickly become to you.

a.n. - and we are so back with the fluff i have always loved writing about! i am so happy, passing a really difficult final exam as i look forward to the rest of my academic year 😭 so i decided to write another jinwoo story!

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

#sung jinwoo x reader #jinwoo sung x reader #jinwoo sung x you #sung jinwoo x you #solo leveling x reader #solo leveling #sung jinwoo #jinwoo sung

[homestuckreplay]

Dad Egbert Found Alive In Kitchen

(page 88-90)

IT'S HIM. IT'S DAD TIME. On page 88, we get a dramatic silhouette and a slow zoom into his defining features - pipe, industrial sized baking oven, hat, and a cake big enough to make installing the oven worth it. After teasing him for so long, it feels like a great payoff to have his introduction be such a big moment.

I LOVE the top panel on page 89 - there's no dialogue, but I can hear John's dad saying "I know it's you under that disguise, kid." Given that there's only two of them in the house, I'm not sure what John was expecting, but I admire his resolve and determination.

The really important thing here, though, is 'STRIFE!' on page 90. I wasn't expecting the strife deck to come into play so soon, and definitely not in this context. It's a fascinating panel both in its themes, and in how it's constructed. It does such a good job of showing a parent-child relationship where neither of them are in the wrong; they're both just on completely different pages and struggling to communicate. All John can do is try to run past before his dad forces cake on him, and all Dad can do is try to give John the thing that he spent hours lovingly making. It's actually really sad, if you can look past the fun jester music.

It's also the most interactive panel so far in a story that's had the illusion of interactivity from the start. Usually, the cursor is moved by an invisible hand; on page 31, we can mouse over John's games but not actually click anything, but here we have two actual buttons to click that show us different animations - presumably John and Dad go back and forth like this for a while, and this is the best way to represent it. But knowing that Hussie has dabbled in 'choose your own adventure' type stories before with Bard Quest, I'm wondering if we could see that on a small scale with Homestuck - small branching paths that lead to the same outcome, choosing the route but not the destination, perhaps, which could allow for interesting storytelling but not be too wildly difficult to implement.

A couple of final things - Dad Egbert knows what the fuck he's doing. He lights all 13 candles at once with a single flick of the lighter. Also, John's fridge art is adorable. I want to know when he drew it and how long Dad's had it up there.

#homestuck #reaction #the meta/interactive stuff is definitely gonna be my next longer analysis. it keeps getting more and more interesting

[lonesomedotmp3]

sorry I literally had my phone down eyes closed ready to at least try to sleep but I remembered something that happened yesterday that still boils my blood and I need to talk about it. my sister seriously has the audacity to be constantly seethingly jealous and bitter of me and my brother's good relationship and then will not even treat him like a human being it's just fucking baffling. we were at a restaurant and me and him were having a conversation about tv and then she puts her phone up right in front of his face to show our dad her instagram, completely blocking us from being able to talk and see each other. and the whole time she's going wow look at this photo look at this look how silly I look in this one! and my brother COMPLETELY REASONABLY. because the back of the phone is right in his face and he's hearing about how great these photos are. asks my sister is he can see them. and then she told him off for it! can you kill yourself!

#and then when I said hey come on why can't you just satiate his curiousity and show him the photo (it was completely appropriate btw) #and said that it's not fair to treat him like that. my father got mad at ME. #and then I perfectly nicely was like ok fine how about he just sits next to me so we can talk and you guys can talk without him being #completely ignored and treated like an annoyance #and my dad was like no! he can wait a few minutes for our conversation to end! damn you guys didn't do that for OUR conversation! #and then he just shoved a game in his hands to entertain him like why can't we just talk oh my god #treating him like he was impatient or rude during that is what is driving me up the wall he was completely polite and just wanted to see #what the rest of the table were all talking about. and just to like be acknowledged #it always annoys me when a kid asks for something like four times or whatever to no response until finally they get yelled at #like just acknowledge they spoke! say ok hold on I'll tell you when we're done talking. or whatever. that's all you have to do #just not make them completely fucking invisible??? #and then again my sister acts so shocked and annoyed that he likes me more. yeah no shit you're awful to him

[kimtaegis]

the bitter hilarity of not ever wanting to be perceived yet feeling incredibly hurt whenever you’re being overlooked

#I guess it’s one thing to decide for yourself to not see and interact with anyone #and another to get intentionally ignored by someone else #I’m at a point where I don’t want to go out with this friend of mine anymore #because every time we’re anywhere men will instantly come up to her to flirt #and I’m just standing next to her. as if I’m not even there #they will only have eyes for her and ask her questions while I’m right there too #or. even worse. like today. them saying: ‘oh you’re definitely the prettiest’ to her #while I’m standing beside her with only my mom completing our little group #and this has happened ever since we were 14 years old #I just fucking hate men and how bad they make me feel about myself I hate it I hate it so much #and I just wanna stay inside on my own forever #deciding for myself to be invisible #tonight sucked. good night

[pokechbi]

Hi, I hope you’re doing well. Can you do a cockwarming with Ghost please. Maybe he’s doing paper work or something and reader just can’t stay away

Hi Anon! Thank you sooo much for the request! So sorry it took forever, these past couple of weeks have been insane! I hope you enjoy 💗💗

🎀Cockwarming Simon🎀

- Simon Ghost Riley x Fem Reader - 18+ NSFW, MINORS DNI! - WC: 1k

When Simon worked, he worked. Absolutely nothing could pull his nose out from those damn papers sprawled about his desk. When he caved himself in his office, absolutely nothing could distract him. If you weren’t bleeding or on fire, he’d continue scribbling away and pushing through his paperwork as if you didn’t exist. You never felt hurt though, because you knew his job as a lieutenant was demanding. You’d seen it first hand as his private. But that never stopped you from trying your absolute hardest to distract him. 

You were particularly bored and frustrated on this day. You’d cleaned the house from top to bottom, made dinner and tried busying yourself with watching TV. But nothing could take your mind off of the beast of a man upstairs who could satiate your thirst. It drove you insane. He was just up there, hiding away and hoarding that third leg of his that you couldn’t seem to get enough of. You lie on the couch, picking at your cuticles and biting the skin on your lips annoyedly. You grunt, sitting up. You didn’t know how you would do it, but you’d find a way to pull his focus from that damn work of his. He could spare some time for you, right? You knew it would be no easy feat. But you were determined. Hell bent on getting him to fuck you right there on his desk. 

You tip toe up the stairs, the pads of your feet sticking to the hardwood floor. You stifle a giggle as you creep past his office quietly. You enter your room, an idea lighting in your head. Why have I never thought of this? You think to yourself. You start with your pants and underwear, sliding them down your legs and stepping out of them. You then take the hem of your shirt, sliding it over your head and throwing it to the ground. The cold air on your breasts causes your nipples to perk up. Now completely naked, you make your way downstairs, quietly making a cup of coffee for Simon. You giggle and chuckle to yourself as you pour the hot water into the instant coffee, stirring it. You make your way up the stairs with the steaming mug in your hand, trying not to spill it on your skin. As you approach his office, you feel your heart rate rise and your fingers tremble. You open the door slowly, grateful that Simon never locked it when you were home. The embarrassment you would feel if he opened the door, seeing your naked body holding a cup of steaming coffee, was one you never wanted to experience,

“Simon, I brought you some coffee.” You say, the smile evident in your voice. You hold back a giggle, approaching him. You see him pause, keeping his head down on his work. You bite your lip as you approach him. You set the coffee down, away from his papers. You place your hand on his back, stroking his neck and running your nails up and down his scalp. He sighs, letting out a soft groan. He moves his head away from your hand, chuckling under his breath. 

“Don’t do that, love. Gotta get this work done.” He says, his voice stern. You don’t let up. You bend down, hugging him from behind. As your breasts make contact with the soft fabric of his shirt, you feel him tense under you. You smile, letting out a seductive chuckle. You kiss his head, running your fingers over his ears. You press your nipples into his back, wrapping your arms around his neck. He looks to the side, his eyes grazing over your naked body behind him. You smile at him, your eyes locking on his lips. He licks his lips nervously, the paperwork in front of him seemingly invisible now. 

“You fuckin’ minx.” He says, his voice now a breathless whisper. You yelp as he turns in his chair, wrapping his strong arms around your hips and pulling you onto his lap. He wastes no time in crashing his lips with yours, the taste of him swirling on your tongue. You moan into the kiss, feeling his cock grow hard under your bare ass. You wiggle in his grip, grinding against him. He groans, his lips parting as he grows harder under you. He reaches under you, unbuckling his jeans and sliding them down the slightest bit, still kissing you. He palms one of your breasts, taking a nipple in between his fingertips. He squeezes it, a jolt of electricity running through you. He continued kissing you hungrily, grunting and groaning everytime the swollen tip of his dick grazed against your bare skin. You move to straddle him, your feet hanging off the sides of the chair. The chair creaked and groaned under your weights as he shifted, lifting you up. 

“Since you wanna be so goddamn greedy, you’re gonna sit and wait for me to be done.” He says, the sternness of his voice causing a warmth to bubble in your clit. You feel a wetness accumulate between your legs, the yearning for him growing stronger by the second. You mewl as he lines himself with your entrance, pushing you down onto his cock. He doesn’t give you a second to adjust, fully bottoming out inside of you. You dip your head into the crook of his neck, bucking your hips forward. Your clit practically weeps for friction as you grind your sensitive bud of nerves against his pubic hair. 

“Fuck, lovie. So goddamn warm. So tight.” He whispers, adjusting himself. He leans forward, picking up his pen and clicking it open. You whine, looking back at his paperwork. “I told you. You’re gonna have to wait. Wanted to be greedy, huh?” He teases, smacking the sensitive skin of your ass with an open palm. You continue whining and moaning as he stays hard inside of you, your walls pulsing and weeping for any kind of movement. He holds you down with one hand, filling out his papers with the other. You relish in the feeling of his cock inside of you, keeping you on the edge with every slight movement. He chuckles at your neediness, shaking his head. 

“You just wait until I’m done here. You’re a dead woman.” Your heart speeds up at his words, knowing you got yourself into something that seemed to be more than you could ever handle.

#fanfic #cod mw #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley headcanons #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x you #simon riley x you #simon riley smut #ghost mwii #ghost smut #simon riley x y/n #fem reader #cod fanfic #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod smut #cod x reader #ghost headcanons #c0ckwarming #x reader #x fem reader

[inkskinned]

they keep the silverware in the same place. you forget about it a little bit when you move out, but during the holidays, it comes back. the way you smooth over your life for them, a gentle reckoning.

for a while, you tried to find yourself by being wild. throwing your body at the emergency exit. finding comfort in the sharpness of a held breath. you used to write wake up on the inside of your wrist. you couldn't calculate the weight of your own sorrow, only that nobody was looking at the anchor of it. you tried maladaptive coping mechanisms like catnip. got caught half-in half-out of them. felt, weirdly, like you should be embarrassed of all of it.

but it does get better. mostly it's just that you become a priority to yourself. it turns out that lending yourself the ragged edge is just cutting open more marrow. for a while, it felt good to see a physical representation of inward agony. but who was that punishing? you learned, slowly (so slowly it was almost invisible sometimes) that you could put love into the wound instead. that the floor was comfortable because it was certain - but it was cold, and unwanting. instead there is a warm bed. you learn to treat yourself like a kid again. gentle-parent yourself into the shower and over breakfast and into laughing without effort. you do wake up.

but then you come home again, and it is like everything is a strange kaleidoscope of childhood moments. here is how you inherited your mother's anxiety. there is the same music playing, and you can't sit down without worrying you forgot to do something. your mother's clipped words and hovering hands - are you sure? are you sure? birdlike, you find yourself seeing unwell and still end up repeating.

here is your father's anger. you are 16 again. there was a moment where you remember thinking - holy shit. i am so much more emotionally mature than you. how you have to talk him down from minor inconveniences, how you parent him like an errant and spoiled toddler who can't be told no, and i mean it. you feel the warp of you. why you can't be in the same room as people having a completely normal conflict. why your skin crawls if there's ever a hint of a fight. why you live with your hands up, placating. and god forbid you get angry. you feel that little spoiled kid rage against the iron will of you. not you, not your hands. you would rather cut your own tongue out of your head, no matter how valid her argument is.

and you're so fucking far from where you were as a kid. you've done so much healing. and there's this little sad part of you that can see the shadow of your past, and your hands wrapped into each other so tightly you made your knuckles white. and how much your parents are just people, and haven't changed much, and still keep the spoons in the drawer to the right.

there is a long dark tunnel here, and it has a name, but you haven't learned how to process that kind of speech yet. close the cabinet. make a note to go get more oat milk. close your eyes.

this place was never home, was it.

#spilled ink #writeblr

[actuallyprobablyafaerie]

list of things that made me scream in pjo episode 3

Percy picking grover because he trusts him not to betray him!!! THEY ARE BEST FRIENDS OK

Luke still comes off as so likable and inconspicuous that whole convo he had with percy and the shoes i just

GROVER AND THE CONSENSUS SONG I CANT

annabeth staring at the different flavors of candy in the gas station and not being able to pick and just buying all of them. Thats the annabeth we deserve

ANNABETHS KNIFE APPEARANCE ALERT and a fury is IMMEDIATELY killed

uncle ferdinand foreshadowing……………

When annabeth and percy start arguing in the woods and grover tries to change the subject by talking about his uncle and they both completely ignore him. I LOVE GROVER SO MUCH

the bickering in this episode is ON POINT by the way

like the stuff theyre arguing about makes sense. Yes i would be concerned about those things too

ESPECIALLY since theres such a focus put on trust (esp after percy learns that someone is going to betray him) and percy and annabeth are arguing about stuff theyve lied or havent told each other about???? Sorry that might be skipping ahead a bit but GOD is that the good stuff

i love that they changed how the three of them ended up going into auntie em’s because before it was a little concerning that none of them figured out it was medusa. Plus having a fury outside just adds to the tension a perfect amount i think, because it really traps them in there

all the discussion about the gods and what medusa talks to percy about in the kitchen - YES MAKE ME HATE THEM!! All of this is adding up to lukes motivations making so much sense in the end

ALSO!! Them harkening back to sallys line in the first episode when she tells percy that not all heroes look like heroes and not all monsters look like monsters - they brought it back so perfectly. Percy wanting to trust medusa because of what his mom said, medusa calling Poseidon a monster, ALL OF IT is so good

When theyre down in the basement and grover puts on the shoes and then just fucking. Flies away and disappears into the darkness yelling a little. and annabeth and percy just kind of helplessly watch him go before being like - welp i guess that plans not working. That was peak comedy

them using annabeths hat on medusa and then using it to kill alecto THEY WERE SO SMART FOR THAT!!! Also percy just the invisible severed head was a hilarious concept to me

when percy suggests burying the hat in the ground with the hat on to make sure no one bad finds it and annabeth just!!! Agrees!!! And then grover has to be like no that hats important to her its a gift from her mother!!! And then percys like well we’ll find another solution then. That whole scene was good yes i liked that

also annabeth revealing that grover was her protector too and percy asks about it and grover just changes the subject and doesnt answer. He is the KING of avoidance

also grover finally interrupting annabeth and percy when they start fighting and giving his whole speech about getting along. That wouldve felt a little cheesy and preachy and out of place from anyone else but considering grover tried to get them to sing the consensus song a few hours earlier i fully believe that he would say that

I AM IMPERTINENT

Why the fuck wasnt there a lin manuel maranda jumpscare warning. I couldve used one of those

but actually all the jokes in this episode were so on point. Like percy calling drachmas chuckie cheese tokens. And him arguing about voting on the bus. Anyways

10/10 episode i will be rewatching like eight times before next tuesday.

#Pjo #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #Annabeth chase #the lightning thief #Grover underwood #percy jackson spoilers

[gamermattsgf]

The headset // gamer Matt

Warnings: major mommy kink / praise kink / begging kink / sub Matt x dom reader / sort of fwb in a way… / cockwarming / riding / edging / slight degredation / unprotected sex

Summary: matt has been quietly playing on his pc for hours now, ignoring you - his best friend - for the most part, until you decide to take matters into your own hands…

Author’s notes: yes, there will be smut. If that’s not your kind of thing, just don’t read it, it’s not my problem. ALSO for everyone’s sake, we pretend the reader is on the pill, because I’m lazy haha.

“But this is deeper than a friendship now, let’s keep it awkward…” - Awkward, SZA

Watching Matt’s side profile, you admire the way he leans forward with his lip bitten in concentration. His fingers rattle with the joystick of his controller and his voice is calculated. Suddenly, he cackles manically and jeers at the headshot he had just made which knocked the other team out of the tournament he was playing in.

‘BRO?! Did you fucking see that? I’m so good!’ He muses cockily, tossing his controller onto his gaming desk whilst sitting back suavely, his arms folded over his chest. Taking off his headset, he sniffles and ruffles his hair before reaching for his water bottle and taking a sip. Finally, you think that he’s going to acknowledge you, but instead of looking around and saying that he’s going to log off, he simply slides his headset back on, his hair flopping onto his forehead.

‘Matt?’ You call, almost shyly, really just wanting him to come and sit down with you so that you can rant to him about your bad day. The bad day that he said you could come over and rant about. But instead he stays nestled in his desk chair.

‘Huh, what?’ He grumbles, turning his head back to pay you a glance that lasts for about 0.5 seconds. However, it is still enough for Matt to see that you are wearing nothing but a tank top and those silk shorts that he absolutely loves on you. Painfully, he also spies that you are not wearing a bra and has to turn back around to his computer so that he can squeeze his eyes shut and try to calm the steady throb that starts within his gut.

How the fuck is he supposed to concentrate on what you have to say when your tits are simply sitting in your tank top, staring at him like that? It’s going to take all of his fucking willpower not to drop his eyes down to ogle at them.

‘You said I could come over and talk about my day?’ You reply to him expectantly, raising your eyebrows in annoyance when he sighs, as if you are an inconvenience.

‘Oh yeah’ he mumbles unenthusiastically underneath his breath, and you have to resist the urge to pelt one of his stuffed animals right at his head.

‘Umm… just- just gimme one more game, this thing’s almost done alright?’ He begs, this time looking back around at you fully, his gaming chair slightly swivelled to face you.

You sigh, but you’re a very giving and patient person, so you nod and smile. ‘Okay, that’s fine’. Matt cracks a gleeful grin then picks up his headset to secure it back on. ‘Kay I’m back’ he speaks, loading into the lobby and readying his character for another game.

You sigh again, snuggling down into the black covers of his bed, scrolling through your phone whilst occasionally glancing up at his shouting figure. You try to make small conversation with him, but it hurts your feelings when he completely brushes you off in favour of communicating with his online friends. Surely he doesn’t have to be that concentrated on his game.

‘So what have you been up to in class lately?’ You speak up, but you are presently shouted over with a ‘NATE! HE’S RIGHT FUCKING BEHIND YOU, WATCH YOUR BACK!’. You hesitate, screwing your face up in sadness. Every single time you try to talk to him, he just yells down into the mic and completely ignores you. You feel like you’re invisible.

So you decide to fix that. If he isn’t going to treat you fairly then neither are you going to treat him with respect. Tossing your phone to the left side of Matt’s bed, you stand up and slowly make your way towards his gaming chair with a devious smirk on your face. You amble into the view of his PC, and Matt’s mouth hangs open in concentration before he darts his head from either side to try and see the computer that was currently being blocked by your grinning body.

You walk forward once again, and Matt looks up at you, not quiet expecting your hands to shoot out and release one of his from the grip it had on his controller so that you could get in. You climb into his lap and sit yourself down easily.

To save himself from being shot by the opposition, Matt quickly grips the controller once again and simply leans his chin on your shoulder so that he can see, before reaching up to quickly mute his mic. ‘Umm what are you doing?’ He nervously laughs to you, trying to keep his beating heart steady at the feeling of your ass and thighs weighting down on his legs. And let’s not forget your tits, now too fucking close to ignore as they press against his chest through your hug.

Think of your grandma’s underwear Matt… think of your grandma’s underwear.

‘Well you haven’t even said hello to me today so… I thought I’d come and give you a hug’ you mumble, shifting around slightly in his lap to get comfortable. However, you regret to realise what this does to Matt’s raging hormones, and it’s not long before he becomes extremely hot and flushed, his cock aching in his jeans at the feeling of your heat being so close to his.

He stutters and falters, just praying that his semi hard-on doesn’t get any worse. ‘Umm okay… well I’m kinda busy so- ahh!’ He cuts himself off with a quiet hiss at your hips shuffling forwards yet again because of his standoffishly rude statement. Serves him fucking right for ignoring his best friend.

But the hope of his prick softening is later abandoned, because he only gets more uncomfortable and stiff. He’s now thinking about wet body parts sliding together, and squeezing his hands against someone’s tits. It’s just handy that yours are right here with him in the moment. He simply can’t bare to focus on the game any longer now. He’s far too conscious about his cock, that is leaking drips of precome and pressing painfully against his boxers.

You have your fun, giggling to yourself because of how surprisingly well this is actually working to get his attention, until you feel an obvious bulge sitting right below the cover of your shorts. Matt had gone extremely quiet…

‘M…Matt, are you… hard?’ You mumble in shock at your best friend before weighing your hips further down into his lap, now this time on purpose, only to have him hiss at the pressure it brings to his core.

One of his hands slips from the tight grip it has on his controller to shoot out and press down on his armrest. His back arches right up into you stomach, as if he is trying to subtly slide his crotch away from your touch.

‘Um, I- um…’ he stutters in embarrassment, his cheeks turning a furious shade of red. He swallows, and you watch his Adam’s apple bob delicately in his throat. ‘Uh, yeah I- I guess I am… sorry’ he mumbled pathetically with his eyes averted in shame at your thighs.

Your lips set in a line, and you squeeze your legs around his sides, your core already dripping for him, which makes you decide to now fully sit your weight onto his hardened cock within his jeans. You rock your hips from side to side, and Matt starts to intake heavy panting breathes, his cheeks a heavy flushed pink as he looks up at you with dreamily confused eyes.

‘W-what are you doing?’ He sputters in shock, his hands still resting upon his arm rests, not daring to splay at all where they so desperately want to. By now his precious controller has been dropped and forgotten to the floor in favour of enjoying the way your hips roll over where he throbs the most.

Matt’s prick is wet… dripping wet, and he feels hot and sweaty all over, all for you. His hands make moist perspiration over the black leather of his seat. And he wants to buck his hips up, he wants to buck them up so badly, but whatever you do feels just as nice as you spread your hands along under his jaw and lift it gently so that he can look up into your eyes instead of fixating them upon your grinding lower halves.

‘I’m going to fix this for you’

Matt blinks, his jaw feathering open but he doesn’t say a word, he’s too scared to. You keep his eyes on you, one of your hands drifting down his brown and pink hoodie before you lift it slightly at the bottom.

Your hand finds the button to Matt’s jeans, but you don’t break eye contact with him. His breath is raggedy with anticipation, his shoulders rising and falling at the sound of the button popping and your hand dragging the zipper down slowly.

He shuffles slightly once it’s down fully, clearly uncomfortably hard and needing attention immediately. Before you take your hands anywhere near him though, you slide them to his hands and take them for him. Guiding them to your back, you place them there whilst leaning in. ‘You can touch me you know… don’t be shy’. You smirk slightly at the sight of him timidly darting his eyes about your face, his sweating hands now fully down and putting pressure upon your shoulder blades.

‘Nice and slow, yeah?’ You mumble once again, but this time you reach for his boxers, easily slipping your hand down them and finding his throbbing prick. It’s hot and silky in your hand and your heart races, Matt whimpering his first throaty ‘oh god’ as he tips his head back slightly and squeezes his eyes shut.

He tries to simply control his breathing, his toes curling on the floor and his fingers arching on your back to indent little crescent moons into it.

‘See? Not that hard is it?’ You talk, in a slightly condescending manner but it seems to not bother Matt, because his cock only throbs more at the sound of your voice speaking to him in this way.

Looking down at his prick you admire it, and admire the way a vein runs up his shaft perfectly to point to his pink and needy tip. Leaning in again, you know just the thing to say to stroke his ego.

‘Fuck Matt, you’re so pretty’

He whines at this comment, his tip leaking easily. He looks as though he could cry in ecstasy when your thumb starts to rub it in slow circles. Fucking hell if he’s this sensitive, who knows how long he’s actually going to last. But he grits his teeth, willing himself to stay calm as choked whimpers expel from his mouth. You stroke him slowly and teasingly, and Matt has to physically careen forward and bite down on your shoulder to keep himself from moaning throatily. His saliva drips down your skin, and the feeling of it only makes you squeeze him harder.

Simply jerking him doesn’t seem to be enough for Matt though, because although he’s shy… he’s also greedy, extremely greedy. He wants more, and by more he means he physically wants to feel you slide down onto him. So he detaches himself from your shoulder, resting his forehead on it instead before he starts to beg. ‘Please… please I wanna- I wanna be inside you… I need-’ but he cuts himself off with another husky moan at the wave of pleasure that washes over him suddenly.

And suddenly this all becomes very real, the barrier between friendship and something more completely shattering between you at this point. And now it all depends on whether you are willing enough to give in and take this further, because Matt has obviously voiced his clear desire to take you as his own already.

But strangely, that idea appeals to you a lot more than it should and you’re already soaking for him. You stand up frantically, letting go of Matt. He whines in frustration at the loss of contact, but soon widens his eyes and re-grips the arms of the chair at the sight of you taking off your shorts. He swallows, his eyes trained on the fabric that slips down your dewy shining legs, his boxers still on but slipped slightly down his thighs with his legs spread out to the sides. His cheeks are still cherry pink, and his eyes are dilated heavily with desire when your panties also come off with no shame. He squirms about in his seat, bucking up his hips once in anticipation before you walk back over and sit on his lap.

‘Now are you going to be nice and quiet for me?’ You warn, pointing a finger at him directly even though no one else is home. His mouth drops open as he pants, his head bobbling up at down quickly before his hands find their way to your thighs. He grips your fleshy skin and squeezes it whilst hoisting you up above his lap. You then find yourself surprised by what slips out of his mouth next, already easing yourself down over his weeping prick.

‘I’ll be such a good boy, I promise.’

It’s a meek and timid little whimper, almost as if it’s come from a small child, and as you sit yourself down onto him he falters. Jesus Christ you didn’t even know Matt was capable of uttering such words…

Screwing his face up, his head is immediately tilted back with his hands bringing you closer and deeper until you sit comfortably right across his bare thighs. ‘Jesus fuck’ he groans with his eyes rolled into the back of his head. The stretch is ungodly, and it burns so fucking good, because as you slide down, his shaft strokes all of the right places. Even you start to heavily breathe, and you have to hide your face in the crook of Matt’s neck to stop yourself from uttering a moan.

You simply sit inside of him, both of you staring at each other in disbelief. You just can’t believe this is happening. If someone had told you two days ago that you would have been sitting on your best friend’s cock, about to grind your hips, you would have laughed in their face.

But now everything is real, and Matt is getting needy once more, his impatient breaths coming through his nose with force as his hands paw at your sides.

‘Please- please move, I don’t know how much more I can take’ he mumbles with his head tilted onto your shoulder shyly once again, as if he is afraid to order you around. You nod, a little spaced out, but still ready to give him absolutely anything he wants just so you can hear his pretty fucked-out whimpers once again.

Doing as he requests you start to swivel your hips, and it makes Matt’s breath hitch within his throat. He grabs onto your tank top with an iron grip, biting his bottom lip so hard it almost draws blood. You rock smoothly and easily, and it feels fucking euphoric to have this power over Matt, the same Matt who barely payed any attention to you when you first walked into the door of his room. Now he was a babbling, whining mess, your naked lower halves stroking against each other wetly… and the noises they made together just made you throb even more.

You’re sure Matt feels that exact same churning feeling in his stomach, because he is sweating, his back leaning against his gaming chair and his head lulling to the side so he can at least focus his eyes on something that isn’t the swell of your tits right in front of his face. He’d never tell you, but you knew anyway because it was so fucking obvious. Matt was obsessed with tits. He fucking loved them, everything about them, he so badly wanted to suck on yours, so much so that his tongue was practically aching to coat saliva all over the stretch of them.

‘What’s wrong honey?’ You feign concern, staring down at a Matt who looks as though he’s about to cum because his head is tilted to the side and his mouth is hung open in pleasured suspense. But, you don’t want this to end, and you realise you’re going too fast because it’s working him up, so you slow your hips once again and his brows unfurl, that exquisite feeling of an orgasm disappearing from him for now.

You’re going to edge him. You know he can handle it, because he’s your good boy.

‘I just- you- you fuck me so good’ he struggles, his voice high and drenched in lust for your hips ‘Why have we never-’ another staggered moan struggles its way up his throat since he has his head tilted fully back now ‘-done this before?’.

‘If I’d known you’d be such a pretty fuck believe me… I would have’ you reply back, and Matt whines again at the praise. He seemed to like that… praise. ‘You know, you were right… you’re being such a good boy for me’ you muse encouragingly, and it manages to get his hips to instinctively thrust upwards. He becomes noisier, more vocal at the positive reactions to his behaviour. ‘And good boys deserve rewards… don’t they…?’ Matt whines, nodding his head dreamily before hissing once again at your hips curling in a specific direction, the pressure squeezing his prick just perfectly.

He then closes his eyes, resting his head back and focusing on the feeling. That is until he starts to whimper ‘please… please, please’ repetitively, almost within a trance. But, you decide to tease him more. You’re not quite finished with him yet, since you’re only just working up to your high, whereas Matt’s already there, simply just suspended between denial and ecstasy.

Your hand easily lurches forward as he moans, this time rather loudly and you’re able to hook your thumb into his mouth to hush him. His eyes snap open in fright, before he simply quietens down.

‘Shhh, good boys aren’t noisy… you don’t want me to start calling you a naughty boy instead, do you?’

You shake your head and smirk as Matt slowly begins to suck on your thumb, using his tongue to curl around it attractively, which keeps him quiet. You think it’s so sweet seeing Matt get all riled up about this. His eyebrows furrow and he shakes his head in embarrassment, sucking on your thumb harder as you condescend him more. ‘No? You don’t want to be a naughty boy? Well fucking behave yourself then’.

Then, you notice, that yet again Matt’s eyes are desirably fixated on your tits as they press against your tank top, your nipples fully hardened and aching to be touched by him. You know Matt wants to, you really do, and you’re amazed by how much he has managed to hold back thus far.

The thing you say next however, is the last straw for him, and he loses all self control at the thought of it. ‘Do you wanna suck on mommy’s tits baby?’. With his eyes hypnotically transfixed upon the bunching stretch of your tits, he throbs inside of you once again. ‘Yeah? You hungry for them baby boy?’. Without saying anything, Matt rips your thumb from out of his mouth and dives his hands forward. He can’t even be bothered to fully take your tank top off because instead of lifting it over your head, he simply greedily pulls the neckline down so that your tits come spilling out over the top.

His head thrusts forward within a matter of seconds, and his mouth quickly envelops your right nipple, sucking on it harshly and making you moan into the air. Fuck his tongue felt so good licking over your sensitivity. You slither around your hand, pressing it against the back of his head and holding him there, to which Matt expels a muffled moan of content at being pushed into your tits. And you know he’s in heaven because of the way he wetly kisses and nuzzles his face into every corner of your skin, until each and every part of your tit is covered in a thin layer of dripping spit that his tongue has gifted you.

He’s now onto your left one, when you tenderly stroke the back of his head and mumble a quick and teasing, ‘yeah? You like mommy’s tits baby boy?’. Matt only detaches his mouth for a second to voice a defensive but feverish ‘shut up’. One of his hands slithers up your stomach and you gasp quickly at the feeling of it grabbing onto your right tit, that was already absolutely covered in red marks and teeth scratches from where his mouth had been. His thumb now rubs you nipple in circles slowly, to return the favour of you rubbing the tip of his leaking cock earlier.

However, the more Matt sucks on your tits, the more sensitive and faster you get with your hips. This causes a chain reaction within Matt, and his tongue gets sloppier within the final anticipated build up of his high.

‘You’ve been so… so good for me, baby boy’ you struggle a praise, tangling your hand within his locks of hair and yanking his face up so that he can meet your gaze. He’s flushed and red, but just can’t help himself. ‘Mommy-‘ he whimpers meekly, looking like tears are welling up in his water line because of just how fucking good you feel stroking against his prick.

‘Do you need to come baby?’ You say with a pout, and Matt nods his head with his eyes squeezed tightly shut. ‘Well? What did I say earlier hm? Good boys deserve rewards’. Matt pants, nodding his head once again, and you already know that he so desperately wants to come.

‘Please… please can I? P-please mommy…’ he begs once again, looking into your eyes with his big glassy ones… and you finally give in. Nodding, you give him permission, then work yourself to both of your eventual highs. Matt has to literally feed his hoodie into his mouth so that he can bite down on it and not make a noise, his toes curling and his back arching once again. Your high comes straight after your see his pretty face screwing up during his, and you help him ride it out, your movements slowing the more you come down and the more sensitive you both become.

‘I can’t believe we just did that…’ he mumbles, his nose bumping against yours as you both have your eyes closed in recovery.

Your breathes are raggedy, and your tits are still exposed. Matt also still sits inside of you, his cock drenched with both of your come. But he loves it, he fucking loves it - even though he is extra embarrassed about your journey of self discovery on the way there.

You never expected matt to be the type of guy to have a raging mommy kink, but you guess now, looking back, it sort of makes sense. He’s soft and clingy with his own mother, which only makes him all the more malleable in your hands as soon as you bring out the nickname.

And god did his reaction not disappoint.

‘Let’s just not make it awkward, okay?’ You question hopefully, whilst starting to slide upwards, but Matt grabs you and forces you back down.

‘Wait!… want you to warm my cock whilst I play my game, feels too good to stop here’ he mumbles, his hands grasping the sides of your hips and firmly holding you there. Your eyes widen, but you do what he says, finding it extremely attractive that as soon as he comes, his babied whines halt, and he takes on a more commanding, dominant demeanour. Still with you sitting on his prick, he bends forward and swipes up his controller, forcing your body up closer into his as he returns upwards with his hand splayed over the break between your shoulder blades.

Before he loads back into another game, he smiles shyly at you, his contrasting elements of dominance and submissiveness being extremely attractive to you.

And still, even after you cleaned up and Matt apologised for coming inside of you, you felt almost in disbelief that you had managed to keep your cool the whole entire time and fuck him in his gaming chair like it was nothing. Maybe you were really just that close? In the end you both decided not to confront it, and instead mutually agreed that it was probably going to happen again between you sometime in the future- knowing that your already undeniable chemistry as friends was irresistible.

But somehow, each of you knew that you were both completely okay with that possibility…

Author’s notes p.2: I’m such a SLUT for gamer Matt ugh. Please, by all means request things for me to write, I do pretty much everything except incest and golden shower (don’t be weird guys). Also you’re welcome to suggest any type of variant of Matt/Chris, for example, bandana Chris - which I actually have a plan for already hehe, also let me know what u thought of this :)

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sub matt sturniolo #mommy k!nk #sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo

[missmeinyourbones]

omg megumi and "open your mouth for me" PLEASE

i like the way you think anon

NSFW 18+ MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED.

cw: afab!reader, fingering, cum eating, spit (?). finger lickin' (good)

...

as distant as he may seem, megumi thrives off of intimate sex—which surprises him more than anyone else.

he remembers being an awkward teen, watching any god-awful porn he could find online and thinking oh, so that's what sex is supposed to look like.

like a fucking book report, he'd take mental notes of the underlying motifs and tones. always the same dynamics—men big, muscly, and dominant as they throw and bend women every which way. rough. cruel. dirty.

but now he's twenty-four. an adult. he pays rent and votes regularly in local elections and drinks black coffee and fucks like a real man, not the ones he used to see on his computer screen.

if he told his past self that he'd be here, with you, doing the filthy things you do to one another, he'd scowl in pure distaste. and honestly, the thought of anyone else doing it still does sound a bit foul to him.

but it's different with you.

it's intimate, something only he gets to see and only you get to feel. it's hidden from the world and completely your own, different each time yet somehow always leaves him feeling the same.

megumi's never been adventurous, but he's learned that he would do just about anything you ask as long as it's paired with a meek please and thank you.

his fingers twist and curl inside of you, practically molding your warmth to his liking as he softly rocks them in and out of your cunt. he sweetly kisses the sweat beading on your forehead and you whine when the palm of his hand brushes against your sensitive clit.

you're close—he knows you well enough to know through the heightened pitch of your whimpers and the clenching muscles around his fingers.

his voice is soft against your sticky cheek when he gently encourages, "come on, you can do it."

he knows you can, and you know you can. because megumi knows exactly where to poke and prod and linger inside of you to get you right where he wants you. something he's learned through the embarrassingly loving trials and errors of intimacy with you.

"always look so pretty," he kisses your jaw, relishing in the way your body feverishly chases his touch, "wanna see it, please."

and that's really all it takes. you come around his fingers with rocking hips and a breathless whine.

megumi lets you ride it out on his fingers, lets you rock your shaky hips into his palm for as long as you need to get the most out of him.

when your head falls back and your breathing slows down a bit, he allows himself to pull his fingers from you with a lewd pop (something he would cringe at years ago, but now makes his heart swell with pride).

you're tired, he knows, but still, he's incredibly hard and disgustingly in love with the moment spread out before him.

he nudges your nose with his, a silent command for you to kiss him. he cant decide if he loves or hates the way you teasingly turn your cheek, making him work for it.

he pouts softly, needy and shameless as he nudges you again, "come on, open your mouth for me."

and when he asks, he means for him to slide his tongue against yours, but you clearly have other plans.

his mind is only focused on tasting you right now, so when you reach for his wrist, he doesn't think twice.

and when you finally open your jaw slightly ajar, and it's to pop his cum-covered fingers in the warmth of your mouth, he's nearly nineteen again—cumming his pants at the sight of something he thought he'd never actually feel.

"jesus christ, babe," the groan comes desperate and whiny from his throat.

he hides his reddening face in your chest and you laugh at the sight, giggles muffled by his long fingers when you mumble out, "what?"

when he pulls away from your mouth, a string of spit follows, connecting your swollen lips to his pruney fingers. the romantic in him knows it's the invisible string that forever ties the two of you together.

but his words aren't as poetic as his thoughts.

"bitch," he grumbles frustratedly, and you actually laugh at his blunt words.

he doesn't mean it, and he's not trying to be sexy and degrading like the men he used to see online, he's being himself. desperate and needy and so in love with you that it hurts him in moments like this.

"that's not fair," he whines when you lick your lips through your giggly amusement.

his eyes go from his hand, to your lips, to your eyes with something that looks like shame mixed with hunger when he murmurs, "i wanted a kiss, not... that."

your nose scrunches, "you didn't like it?"

"no," he's quick to clarify with a blush. he leans into your swollen lips, and when you finally let him kiss you, tasting like your cum and his spit, megumi thinks he might pass out.

"no, i loved it."

#megumi x you #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro x you #megumi smut #megumi fushiguro smut #megumi fic #megumi fushiguro fic

[kelstey]

invisible string

mattheo riddle x reader

warnings : smut

REQUESTED

italics are flashbacks, each cut off is a different flashback/memory

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃

"lights out everyone!" professor dumbledore yelled out. the silent movements of different rooms filled the hallway as everyone turned their lights off, no one was away to sleep - just yet, at least.

the first years had been allowed a trip to paris to celebrate the accomplishments of completing their first year at hogwarts.

a couple minutes passed by, the lock of the teachers' rooms could be heard, soon followed by a flick of the light switch. as if mattheo, theo, lorenzo, draco, and blaise's lives depended on it, they held their breaths as they wandered down the corridor, making their way to the room you were sharing with pansy and daphne.

the teeny, tiniest of knocks echoed through your room, signifying their arrival. the three of you giggled, having the boys sneak over into your room felt super grown up and who wouldn't want their crushes in their room?

you held in a breath as the door silently unlocked, opening the door to reveal the group of boys. "sh!" blaise smacked the back of draco's head as the floorboard underneath him creaked.

the five boys creeped into your shared room, trying their hardest to make as little noise as possible to avoid being screamed at by a professor for not only sneaking out - but sneaking into a room of girls.

you shut and locked the door, going over to your cramped single bed. it wasn't the most comfiest thing on earth but it would do for the meantime.

"hi," mattheo walked over, cramming himself into the bed with you.

"hi," you felt a blush creep up onto your cheeks. thankfully the room was only lit with the tiny glow of daphne and draco's wands.

"i can't wait to go to the eiffel tower tomorrow," draco gushed. he was sat on the floor against the wall, facing all three beds.

"who?" theo asked.

"me-"

"asked."

the seven of you laughed silently, draco buffed and puffed, unimpressed at the 'lame' joke.

"that's not funny."

"it's quite funny," pansy giggled, covering her mouth.

"whatever," draco crossed his arms like an angry toddler.

the room filled with mixed conversations, different duos and trios speaking amongst each other, occasionally joining in with each others conversations.

you leaned back against mattheo's chest, your eyelids growing heavy, fighting off each urge to fall asleep as you wanted to continue speaking with the rest.

he wrapped his arms around your torso, allowing your bead to fall back onto his shoulder. mattheo grew slightly confused when you stopped replying, looking down at you only to realise you were asleep.

he pulled the covers up over both of your bodies, his arms tightening around you secretly hiding from the others. mattheo continued to speak, careful not to be too loud in fear of waking you up.

he was also sure to hush anyone whenever they raised their voice, claiming it was just so no one would get in trouble, but really he didn't want them to wake you up, either.

not even thirty minutes after the boys snuck in did everyone fall asleep. numerous snores falling from mouths, theo's obnoxious one waking you up.

you tried to move but quickly realised the reason you were so restricted was due to mattheo's arms around you. a smile formed on your lips, he was the first ever boy you'd fallen asleep with.

-

"riddle! y/l/n! get back here right now!" snapes voice rang throughout numerous corridors. mattheo grabbed onto your hand tightly, your feet running at a pace that you didn't even realise you could go at.

"we're so fucked," you giggled, continuing to sprint through the corridors, weaving your way past other students, your veins pumped with adrenaline, giving you somewhat of a high.

"that's part of the fun," mattheo turned his face to look at you.

you looked angelic. your hair was being flown back as you ran, the brightest of smiles plastered on your face. mattheo felt flowers blossoming in his stomach, the petals tickling the inner lining.

you were always beautiful to him, but at that moment? it was like he discovered a new part of you. all these years he had known you, and only just then did he truly think he found you. he saw you. and he loved each singular part.

the two of you made a sharp turn, finding yourselves in a vacant corridor. your breathing was sharp, your lungs desperate for as much air as you could possibly receive.

you leaned back against the wall, the smile on your face reforming when you looked up to see mattheo holding back a smirk. your lungs burned, your legs moments away from giving in.

"you're such a little shit," you laughed. you felt a stitch on your side, your hand going up to your abdomen to press on it. the adrenaline was still coursing through your veins.

"stitch?" he took a few steps closer to you.

"hurts like a bitch," you panted. mattheo removed your hands from the area, massaging his hand to try relieve the pain.

"always works when i get one during quidditch," mattheo looked down at you.

he leaned closer, his forehead pressed tightly against yours. the tips of your noses brushed against each other. his warm eyes dilated as they gazed around your face, be opened his mouth to speak but a voice cut him off.

"you two!" the rage of snapes voice, once again, echoed down the hall.

"shit," and the two of you were off, once again.

-

"trust me this stuff will get you baked," the crackle of the lighter lit up the twisted end of the joint. "neville said it's some proper muggle stuff. some sort of cake strain."

"jesus," you spluttered, the smoke going straight to the back of your throat.

"yeah?" mattheo smirked, his tongue poking through the inner of his cheek.

you took a couple more inhales, the weed taking its affect in just a few moments. you passed mattheo over the joint.

"hurry, people are gonna wonder where we've went."

"calm it," mattheo chuckled. he leaned back in the chair, his legs spreading apart and moving his hips up to adjust his position.

"i am calm," you felt your eyelids begin to droop. the truo of you took some more hits, finishing the joint as soon as possible in order to return to the party happening inside.

mattheo took a few more drags, the icy breeze of the wind brushed over you, a chill running down your spine. the hairs on your arms stood up, your hands crossing over to salvage any body warmth you had left from being out on the balcony.

"here," he stubbed out the joint. he took his blazer off, bringing it over your shoulders.

"thank you," you smiled up at him. his eyes twinkled as the light of the moon shone down on him, he was truly gorgeous. "come on now, birthday boy."

the both of you returned back to the party and noticed everyone was already drunk or on the verge of it. you wandered over to a table where pansy, daphne, theo, and lorenzo were seated at.

mattheo followed you closely behind, a dreaded feeling of doom lingering over his head as his paranoia began to settle in. he sat down at the table leaving no space for you.

"you're really gonna make me stand?" you teased, getting between mattheo and pansy.

"mhm," a singular arm wrapped around the back of your legs, his hand resting on your outer thigh, his face nuzzled into your waist, dangerously close to the hem of your already risqué dress.

"it's okay," you muttered, running a hand through his curly brown locks, fingers trailing through his scalp which brought him ease, and he could've fallen asleep then and there. he looked up at you, his eyes sparkling with admiration as he took in your features.

he truly believed you were moulded by the hands of a true goddess.

mattheo spread his thighs apart, pulling you down by your waist to sit perfectly on his groin. "you look beautiful," his lips murmured against the ticklish skin of your neck, the sensation sending a tingle down your back.

"you don't look too bad yourself," you blushed. the others were too far deep in the conversation to notice the two lovebirds - or maybe they were doing it on purpose.

all light sources turned off, the party falling silent with confusion. shortly after, a light illuminated the room. the source coming from a cake being held by tom as be walked into the room, his legs taking strong, confident strides as he made his way over to the table with you and mattheo.

everyone soon gathered, irrupting into the infamous "happy birthday" song you quickly moved off of mattheo's lap before tom got too close, not wanting to raise any suspicions for anyone who didn't already see the two of you already getting a little too handsy.

tom placed the cake atop of the table, clapping once the song ended. mattheo's smile was wide and as bright as ever, his teeth pearly white as the candle light reflected off of them.

mattheo stalled for a second before closing his eyes, a swift blow and the candles were out. he had made his birthday wish.

everyone began to clap, you included. you cheered on, your smile soon faltering when mattheo's girlfriend made her way between you and mattheo, pushing her lips roughly against his.

you could feel your heart drop, your ears muting out the cheers and banter of the guests as they celebrated. your heart broke into a million pieces, his hands holding her close before he moved her onto his lap.

you had just forgotten that the two of you were just friends.

the lights came back on, everyone returning to their conversations, the music continuing to fill the room yet again. "are you okay?" pansy stood up, whispering quietly in your ear.

"i think i need some air," you blinked away the tears, trying to hold back what felt like a waterfall as your waterline filled with a thin lining of tears.

pansy wrapped one of her arms around your back, her head leaning against your shoulder as the two of you made your way out the party. you could feel your lungs gasping for air, a cry escaping your lips as the two of you entered the bathroom.

"it's okay, baby," pansy comforted you. your body just about collapsed onto the floor, though your jagged, distressed breaths for air seemed to be collapsing your lungs as well. you brought your legs up to your chin, allowing the tears to run free. "just breathe."

your mind was fogged, a million thoughts racing non stop as you tried to contain yourself. your eyes were glossy, bloodshot red, looking up at pansy as she rubbed your arm. "i think i love him."

-

the abrasive smoke found it's way to the back of your throat, the paper of the joint crinkling as loud as ever in the dead of the night. you had started to reconsider your clothing decisions as the baltic wind breezed over you, goosebumps arising on your bare legs.

fortunately, you were wearing a cozy hoodie that you would always throw on when you snuck outside in the middle of the night to smoke away, wanting nothing more than to simply escape your thoughts.

you caressed your forehead with one hand, the other holding the joint. you hadn't spoke to mattheo in weeks and it was starting to take its toll on you, you wanted to give him space, not wanting to interfere with his relationship, but it was proving more difficult than you anticipated.

the usual laughter that would be shared in and between classes was now filled with an awkward tension, neither of you wanting to break the silence.

late night wanders turned into late night cries, not longer having your usual companion to accompany you whenever you were finding difficulty sleeping. you mourned the 'loss' of your friendship, wondering what would have happened if maybe you had realised the immense feelings towards him sooner.

your mind was too clouded, distracted by numerous thoughts, too preoccupied to hear the footsteps appear behind you.

"i thought i'd find you here," you nearly froze, anxious at the thought of having been caught by a professor.

"mattheo," vou sighed in relief.

"that's me," he chuckled lightly. he closed the glass door behind him, taking a seat in the chair next to you. "you've been ignoring me."

"i figured you were too busy with your new girlfriend, now," you looked over at him. he looked disheveled, a faint stubble unshaved on his chin and jaw, his eye bags slightly darker than you remember, his eyes not as familiar as they once were.

"just because i have a girlfriend doesn't mean you need to cut me off," mattheo leaned back.

"don't do this to me."

"do what?"

you were brought back to the night of mattheo's eighteenth birthday, reminders of the tears that ran down your face when him and his girlfriend kissed, the way the world went silent around you but for everyone else; they were all happy for him and cheering.

"you know why i can't be your friend," you tilted your head as you looked at him.

"don't be stupid. you know you'll always be my friend."

"i don't want to be your friend, mattheo. that's the problem."

"what?" he was in a state of disbelief, wondering where all of this was suddenly coming from.

"i can't - mattheo...i," you fumbled around with your words, unable to figure out what you even wanted to say. now that it came down to it, every singular thing you wanted to say was suddenly stripped from your memory.

you closed your eyes, resisting the tears. you inhaled a sharp breath, trying to gather yourself as much as possible so you wouldn't break down in front of him.

"i don't want to see you with somebody else," your eyes fluttered open, a stunned mattheo looking back at you. "i can't just sit and pretend that i'm okay with the thought of another girl having you, because i'm not. i love you mattheo, but you're not mine."

you were unable to comprehend the emotion on mattheo's face. his eyes were wide, soft, but wide. his nostrils were flared, his fists tense by his side, his thumb rubbing over his index finger to comfort himself.

"say that again."

"what?" you breathed out, unaware of the deep breath you'd been holding in.

"say you love me."

"mattheo-"

"say it."

"i love you."

his movements were rapid, his hands finding their way to your waist, his lips fitting perfectly against yours. it took you a second to even comprehend what the fuck was going on, but you soon melted into the kiss.

his lips were rough, eager, but passionate as they moved. his hands roamed your body, longing to touch the body he knew so well. each curve, each freckle, each mole, each scar, his fingers traced

over.

an arm hooked around the back of his neck, your hand raking through his satin curls, a feeling you'd been missing for far too long.

mattheo's hands reached the back of your thighs, picking you up, your legs tightening around his waist. it didn't take long for him to find his way to your dorm, fumbling with the handle he finally managed to find his way in without dropping you.

his foot kicked the door shut, the steps he was taking felt like forever. you felt your body being placed against your familiar bedsheets, mattheo's body leaning over you.

it didn't take long for both of your clothing and undergarments to find their way onto the floor, discarded and forgotten about once mattheo's lips made their way back to your lips.

you'd never met someone with such soft lips yet rough kisses, light peppers and sucks as he trailed his lips down your jaw, making his way down to your neck.

"you're so fucking beautiful," he let out an exasperated breath, unable to come to the fact that you were fully real - and in love with him.

a mellow moan fell from your lips, mattheo's mouth falling around your hardened nip, capturing it with the light graze of his teeth. his calloused fingertips gently grazed down your body, one hand perfectly fitting around your other tit, his thumb toying with your other nipple.

you looked down at the boy, his brown eyes tainted with lust that consumed you, a fire igniting all over your body with how badly you needed him.

mattheo's fingers tickled their way down your torso, going right to where you needed him.

"fuck," he groaned, his fingers covered in a layer of your arousal. "so wet for me already."

wet kisses connect onto the sensitive skin of your neck, tilting your neck back to allow more skin for mattheo to mark and make his own. he let out a moan against your flesh, his hand pumping down his dick, lining himself up with you.

a gasp escaped both of your lips as he slowly began to slide into you, your walls stretching out against him. his hands found their way to your hips, his nails digging into your soft skin.

"fuck," he groaned, your nails dragging down the skin of his back, clawing away as he began to move his hips, rolling deeper into you.

he moved a hand from your hip, placing it around your throat. he squeezes around your neck, slowly adding more pressure as you let out even more unholy moans.

"just like that," mattheo grunted, your walls clenching around him with the feeling of his hands around your neck driving you absolutely insane.

"mattheo," you moaned. "god - fuck. please, i need you so fucking bad."

"good girl, tell me how bad you want me," his brows furrowed together, his pace beginning to fasten as he buried his dick further into your aching cunt.

"so bad," you gasped out.

"should've told me sooner," he threw his head back. "look so pretty under me."

you let out a whimper, your hands grasping at the sheets underneath you, twisting them tightly in your hand. mattheo's thrusts came in harder, your legs wrapping around the back of his thighs to get him even further inside of you.

mattheo leaned down, his teeth sinking into your shoulder, choked moans erupting from his mouth.

"my fuckin' god," he continued to roll his hips, unable to get enough of you.

"mattheo-" a whine fell from your lips, your stomach tightening as you felt your orgasm build up.

"fuck- keep doing that, doing so well for me," he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

"shit," you bucked your hips up, mattheo's hips slamming down against you, his pace growing sloppier and harder with each second that passed.

"just like that, god, such a good fuckin' girl," your eyes rolled back, stars sparkling before your vision went white, your orgasm crashing down on you like never before.

"fuck," mattheo grunted, his teeth digging into his bottom lip, his cum spilling into you.

you let out a whimper as he pulled out of you, his body rolling into the space on the bed next to you. his hand trailed down your thigh, massaging it gently to calm the nerves that twitched throughout your jelly-like legs.

"i love you," mattheo pressed a kiss onto your shoulder.

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃

#fanfic #slytherin #slytherin boys #mattheo x you #mattheoxreader #mattheo smut #mattheoriddlesmut #mattheo x y/n #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #fictional men #taylor swift #swifties

[madds-is-ace-trash]

Nightwing why are you warring a cape? Well for the baby of course! Dcxdp

This takes place in the same universe as my fic Mother of the storm and her star child.

A few years have passed and Danny is completely settled in and moved to bulhaven with dick. Eventually around the time he’s Turing 9 he insists that he wants to go out at night with dick. Dick is hesitant but Danny insist, pointing out how his abilities would make him the perfect recon detective. Dick can no longer argue when Danny beats both Damian and Cass the first day of training and he is out out in the field.

Danny hose out in his ghost form and picks the name phantom because it feels right and now nightwing patrols with a bird if his very own for the first time in a while. Danny is very good on patrols, he sticks close to dick often clinging to him and hiding behind him when dick is interacting with people. He’ll often turn invisible but it still doesn’t fell like enough to dick. He quickly released that he missed the cape and the layer of securing it added when Damien was his Robin.

So nightwing starts wearing a cape, and the people of his city starts coming up with all sorts of theories for the sudden change. The range from him practicing because he’s taking over the cowl to him hiding new gadgets. Very few have seen Danny and those who have are often not believed because, “nightwing had glowing eyes under his cape!” Is not very believable.

He doesn’t wear the cape all the time just when he has Danny, the cape is long the outside is black but the inside has a blue and black feather design so it looks like wings when he glides. It has a feature where it retracts in to a role on his back when he need more freedom of movement. And I’m addition to the cape he now has an extra loop hanging form his belt for Danny to grab on to as the hop rooftops. (Danny can will him self to weigh nothing so dick tends to pull him along as he floats any way)

As the news of dicks sudden costume adjustment is circulating he has to come to the watchtower with B for a mission. Danny tags along hiding in his cape like all the Robin had before him with Bruce. Meanwhile Bruce is totally not going all mushy over his grandson he is totally normal about this. All of the Leagers keep giving dick looks.

Until flash finally ask

Wally: so um nightwing what’s with the cape? I thought you hated them?

Dick*with a bright smile across his face*: it’s for my shadow!

Wally: your shadow? How is a cape ganna hide your shadow.

Dick: no not my actual shadow it’s to hide my bird.

Diana: your bird?

*Dick flares one side of the cape revealing the feathered pattern underneath but nothing else is visible hidden under the cape*

Wally: I don’t se-

Dick: whistles like a bird call

Danny slowly fading in to view giving the league a small wave as he scrambles to hide behind dicks legs: Hello

Hal: really Bruce another one!?

Dick Smiling at the small boy in his cape before closing it : nope this one’s all mine!

Meanwhile John Constantine who is present for this mission is freaked the fuck out. Because that kid with the flowing white hair and glowing freckles is definitely not human. And worse than that from what he can sense it’s pretty darn powerful to. He watches as all of his coworkers are working to get the boy out from hiding cooing over him.

Clark: he’s looking a lot better nightwing

Wally: Waite you already new about him?

Clark: yes the boy is nightwings child I’m guessing he only is just now joining the team

Diana: what’s your name little one?

Danny poking his head out of the cape: phantom my name is phantom

Fuck why was that name familiar? Oh shit that’s right John had heard rumors of the new ghost king and a prince milling around the infinite realms this must be the little ghost prince. How the fuck did dick end up with him? Waite sups said that was dicks kid, hold did dick?

John: ha Oh my god! You crazy fucker you fucked the ghosts king!

#danny phantom #dc x dp #danny fenton #dp x dc #dp #phandom #ghost king danny #i write some times #dpxdc #ms&sc #dc x dp prompt #you can use it as one I don’t care #this will not be continued so feel free to steal the idea #I just want Danny to hide under his papas cape #dick is very confused #over what John siad #and now the league is side eyeing him #Wally ask Danny who his mom is and he just says ‘dead’ #this dose not help dick trying to explain he did not fuck the god of the dead #eventually they ask Danny if he knows who the king is #and he just says ‘Yhea me!’ and the crown of fire just appears over his head #he smiles and shows of his little baby fangs #John is having a melt down #the league just thinks it makes him even cuter #Danny explains he’s only a prince now until he’s big enough #John has to explain that actually makes a lot of sense because the realms have been running them self for years #The whole team is now having a crisis because they realize that means Danny has died #Danny is surprisingly nonchalant about it #he turns human to show them he’s fine #Batman is desperately trying to get everyone back on track so they can get to the mission

[seattlesellie]

could you make bff!ellie catching you masturbating and says something like ”i can help you if youd like” bc you couldnt climax when you do it yourself

caught ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

an: pretty self explanatory. nsfw, mdni please. part one of two!

yet another droplet of salty—sweet sweat fell on your top lip. you couldn’t get there, couldn’t you? no matter how hard you tried, no matter how hard you rutted against the fabric, the position your pillow was in— folded, to the side, with the tip; you just couldn’t do it. you couldn’t cum.

a pitiful whine fell from your lips. should an unfamiliar passerby chance upon the scene, they might have assumed that you were tormented, in agony.

the bittersweet twist in your stomach was truly just a tease. almost there, almost, in a fleeting moment— vanished into thin air.

would it be wrong to say that you looked absolutely pathetic? it probably wouldn’t be, it would be nothing but the truth. with your panties hung loose around your ankles, your toes curling inside of your soft white socks, your body feverishly oscillating back and forth, then sideways, tracing circles— and then just straight up humping, it was sad.

“oh— please, please!” you mewled, better yet, cried out.

perchance, you could get there if you pulled your erect nipples, if you pinched them just right, that tormenting tension would finally dissipate. you hastily took your pajama tank top off and threw it on the floor. you pulled on the swollen buds, twisted them slightly, only to elicit a shrill cry that escaped your lips.

“mmph— god!”

you were supposed to meet ellie at 4:30pm. or was it 4:15? 4:20? you wouldn’t know. the clock was ticking, and there you were, grinding yourself helplessly against your soft pillow. tick—tock.

it’s 4:13.

4:14:

ellie knocked on your apartment door. once, then twice, and finally she pressed the buzzer. she was starving, her mouth salivating, and the scent coming from the pizza box wasn’t helping in the slightest.

she buzzed it again, and to her dismay, no answer.

“ugh, cmon” she huffed, knocking forcefully again.

what were you doing? in the bathroom? showering? you must be busy somehow, with your earphones in, maybe?

you said 4:15pm. she wasn’t very forgetful, especially when it came to you.

biting down on her bottom lip, ellie remembered there’s a spare key conveniently tucked beneath the brown “welcome!” carpet. she knows this because you told her, when she walked you home, tipsy and giggling after a night out.

“right” she mumbled, balancing the large pizza box on her left hand. she bent down, and she was right. she remembered correctly— a spare key. as ellie swung open the door, she was greeted by an empty living room.

“hello?”

she paced around. maybe you were hiding underneath the kitchen table? pulling a prank on her? you goof.

“pizzas here…” she melodically chimed.

“and i'm… here too”

she pondered the possibility of someone having broken into your apartment and kidnapping you. could that be?

ugh, ellie. quit being so dramatic.

ellie placed the pizza box right on the kitchen counter, and began walking towards your room. maybe you were napping, that sounds like a much nicer thought. when the image of you cuddled up inside a fuzzy blanket popped into her mind, she chuckled. cute.

oh how terribly wrong she was.

you pressed against your pillow, causing the bed to emit two distinct squeaks.

ellie's head swiftly turned to the side, her steps growing closer and closer to your room. so you didn’t get kidnapped... you’re in there. jumping on the bed, perhaps?

as a high-pitched whimper escaped your lips, reaching her ears as if tethered by an invisible string, her heart sank. she was dangerously close to the wooden door now.

her breath caught in her throat. you were fucking somebody.

it was muffled, but the bed creaking and the whiney sob? her head was spinning in circles, palms itching and sweaty. not only did you completely forget about your plans, you were in there— letting someone fuck you. she didn’t even know you were seeing somebody. she didn’t even know you were doing that shit and that sweet, blissful moan? she dug crescent marks onto her palms as she clenched them tightly.

it was wrong. it was painfully wrong and creepy and perverted, but ellie had to see. she had to know who you were letting inside your bed, but she wasn’t about to interrupt. all she did, was twist the doorknob carefully, the door opening far enough for her to see, but still not enough for you to notice.

oh.

oh.

with your bare back on display, and your ass squished against the pillow— ellie felt like she was going to faint. your sweet, frustrated moans filled the room and ellie blinked so many times she was having a sensory overload.

this has to be a dream, she thought. one of her crazy ones, the only ones she doesn’t tell you about. her throat felt dry, and she had to swallow hard. ellie took a shaky breath in, and she nearly groaned. you were desperate, she swore she could see a sweet droplet of sweat flowing down your back.

ellie’s first instinct was shutting the door and leaving.

for the first time in her life, ellie didn’t listen to her instincts. she stood there, mouth agape, toes curling inside of her chucks.

“pleasepleaseplease, unggh—“ that little moan was so high pitched and sweet and ellie felt dizzy, faint, awestruck. she dug her trimmed fingernails right into her jeans covered thigh and pinched. this is a dream, ellie— wake up.

“oh god!”

wake up, ellie.

you got down on your elbows, and you dragged your aching clit all over the pillow. the bed squeaked again. she could see everything, the swollen button, your tight hole and your ass—

wake up, ellie.

“fuck” she huffed, and you still couldn’t hear a thing, too busy and too in trance, poorly trying to get yourself off.

when you humped the pillow again— ellie’s own clit pumped. like a faint heartbeat, she felt a dull ache growing and growing.

she stood there; dizzy, disgusting, turned on, like a peeping tom.

she should leave. she has to leave. why can’t she leave? her feet are glued to the floor and she can’t walk, paralyzed.

she could walk out of here and pretend it never happened. she could go home, rub one out, rub it again till it hurts and then see you the next day. this could be normal, she could be normal about this, can’t she?

“fuck!” you gave up. you weren’t getting there, this wasn’t happening today. you weren’t going to cum and you had to deal with it. slowly, you steadied your breath and grabbed your phone. it was 16:24, where is she? you decided to text her.

“when are u coming over? i’m starving”

ellie’s phone buzzed in her pocket and she nearly choked. there she was, frozen, staring.

thankfully, you didn’t hear it. in fact, you couldn’t hear anything— your ears were still pumping.

ellie swiftly took her phone out of her pocket and noticed her hands were shaking, it nearly slipped out of her grip. she shouldn’t answer. she should pretend that she had forgotten, she was napping, at the gym, working on something, god knows what. she shouldn’t answer.

but she did.

“give me 20 minutes, was at the gym”

you chuckled, and when you went to scratch your chin with your shoulder, ellie thought you were turning around and she nearly collapsed.

“lol u renewed your membership?”

oh shit. she cancelled it last month. her jeans felt too tight and her face was on fire and now she had to lie, again.

“yeah”

even as she typed— she couldn’t look away. your ass was on full display and it was something she had to burn into her memory. she would never see you like this ever again.

“i don’t believe you”

oh fuck.

“send proof ellie… need to know ur not just lying and hanging out with toxic stacy again”

is it possible that she completely forgot who you were talking about? was she that delirious?

“omg wrong name lol 🩷 i meant samantha”

oh, her.

is samantha’s pussy this pretty?

oh, she’s sick.

you giggled and adjusted yourself on the pillow again. when you laid completely down, ellie’s eyes rolled back.

“i’m at the gym… not lying, weirdo”

you sighed, and ellie heard it. the fact that she could hear every single one of your reactions to her texts made her cringe but it also made her feel something she’s never felt before.

“send a gym selfie then”

you weren’t intentionally flirting. it was purely innocent on your part, just that. you needed to know she wasn’t lying. why did her stomach flip?

she knew she had to have one. she knew she had to have at least one picture of her at the gym. she must have sent something back then, maybe to cat. cat loved her blurry gym pictures, the ones she sent her with the bottom of her tank-top in between her teeth and her toned abs on full display. she found it— after two whole minutes of aimless searching and scrolling. just what she thought, her abs, slightly sweaty and glistening, her thin happy trail, and her boxers peaking out from her sweats. she sent it so fast and she didn’t even think—

you stared at your screen. fully stared. your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, why did she… that picture was… suggestive. your best friend is a weirdo and she’s also making your tummy feel like it’s being swarmed by angry bees.

“i believe u now :) see you in 20!”

ellie felt like punching herself in the face, but before she did, before she closed the door and got the hell out of there— you did something that was so unfathomable, she nearly went cross eyed. with ellie’s picture flashing on your phone, you began grinding again. the moan that fell from your lips was guttural, ravenous.

this wouldn’t even be the first time, wouldn’t it? getting off to the thought of your best friend?

this time, when the pillow met your clit again, you were wet and slimy and you seamlessly glided onto the plush fabric. you knew, deep down, that you could get there this time. if you were looking at her, at her sculpted abs with her shirt in her mouth you could actually cum. you didn't even bother thinking about it, about how wrong it is. she would never know, so what's the big deal?

this time— ellie has to wake herself up somehow. this was the sign, the only one that helped her make sure she knew that she was absolutely dreaming.

if this was, in fact, a dream— ellie would coo at you. she would walk over, ever so slowly, lift you up, help you get off of the pillow, and hold your hand. "poor thing, need my help?" when you'd nod, shed guide your body up and down and teach you just the right moves. shed take you by the waist and help you slide, suck on your nipples and look at you. occasionally— she would stop on her nibbling to mutter "all you needed to do was ask me, pretty girl"

but this isn't a dream. ellie knows this isn't a dream because she checked the time on her phone and a minute had passed and she knows it doesn't work like that in the dream realm.

would it be wrong if she slipped her hands right into her pants?

"please, ellie"

you moaned her name like you were ashamed. like you knew she was right there and she could hear you. what would you do if she was?

when ellie heard the whine of her name slip out of your mouth, her phone dropped down to the floor and hit it with a thud. for ellie, it sounded louder than a brick.

you turned around fast, you thought a vase had fallen. when you caught her gaze, because ellie couldn't. fucking. move— you weren't embarrassed. you were too mortified to be embarrassed, you screeched and you didn't speak. neither did ellie.

your lips were trembling and her hands were sweating profusely. you've never seen her look like this, she's never seen you look like this. she opened her mouth like she was going to speak, but she didn't. she stood, frozen.

you don't know when you managed to grab the blanket and wrap it around your body but you did.

she opened up her mouth again, but only a soft "ah" noise escaped from it.

"when d—did you..."

"just now" she lied.

"and you stood there f—for..." you stuttered. now, the embarrassment finally hit.

"i saw" ellie managed to speak, somehow.

she saw?

"w—what?

"i saw"

what did she see? your heart was beating fast. you’ve never felt this vulnerable, this exposed. what did she see?

you couldn’t speak. you wouldn’t dare. embarrassed, not able to make any eye contact with the green eyed girl, you stared at the floor.

“i think…” she stepped closer to you, and she kept her gaze on the floor as well.

“i can…”

another step. closer now, dangerously so.

your entire body trembled.

she looked up at you, finally.

“help”

#𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 anon 🎀 #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie x reader #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams x you #ellie williams #might delete :3 #ellie williams drabble

[ellecdc]

A Man With a Plan (prologue)

prologue // p1 // p2 // p3 // p4 // p5 // p6 // p7

Remus Lupin x whimsical!reader - Hogwarts Era (no Voldemort) - Soulmate AU

A/N: Hello! I've been stuck in my head about the idea of a whimsical reader (think Luna Lovegood) after reading the many sweet writings of other writers on Tumblr (specifically @ moonstruckme)! I totally ship a character like this with Remus because I feel like Remus has a tendency to overthink and get stuck in his own head and a character like this would be a breath of fresh air for him and balance him really well. Please note: whimsical does not = stupid! Rather, quite smart but people find her odd and reduce this to lack of intelligence. This is my little prologue, a sort of soulmate-esque AU - what do we think? Do we like this idea? Would we read it???

CW: swearing (cuz it's Remus 'Werewolf McSwearWolf' Lupin's POV, duh)

If there was one thing people ought to know about Remus John Lupin, it was that Remus was a planner. At any given point, it would be safe to assume that Remus had a plan.

As would be typical of Remus Lupin’s luck, however, most of his plans got fucked to shit.

Example A:

As a child, Remus planned to grow up to be a wizard like his da, or a nurse like his mum. That plan was fucked to bits just before his 5th birthday when Fenrir Greyback damned him to a life of lycanthropy and a side serving of prejudice. 

Example B:

Remus Lupin planned to never be accepted to Hogwarts on account of his previously stated damnation. That plan also went sideways when an owl dropped a letter into his porridge on the morning of his 11th birthday, containing an acceptance letter to Hogwarts. Remus’ da told Remus it was likely a mistake and they would rescind the offer once they learnt of his lycanthropy. Once again, plans were nullified when headmaster Dumbledore himself showed up on the doorstep of the Lupin Cottage after not receiving a response from them.

Example C:

Once he confirmed his acceptance to Hogwarts, Remus Lupin planned to be completely invisible throughout his time at school. This meant: no embarrassing himself, no bringing attention to himself, and absolutely, under no circumstances, would he make friends.

Of course, as should have been expected, this plan was fucked upside down and backwards seven ways to Sunday when the likes of James Fleamont Potter and Sirius Orion Black set their sights upon him.

Though Remus Lupin did have a plan, he was still just a boy. He’d been homeschooled his entire life due to being unable to explain his absences to muggle teachers as well as his scars/injuries from every full moon, and the village kids were quite fearful of the scarred boy. All this to say; he’d never had friends before.

So, sue him for relishing in the interest these boys seemed to have in him.

No matter: Remus could handle this. “How?” You may be wondering. By a plan, of course! 

Remus Lupin would allow these two (and Peter who went about befriending the boy in a much gentler way, so let’s make it three) friends, and planned to ensure that they never learned of his lycanthropy. He’d only just made friends; he wasn’t about to lose them. 

Of course, Sirius being the nosey fucker he is, James being the doting mother hen he is, and Peter being far too perceptive for anyone’s good – that plan was fucked to shit as well.

Remus, then, planned then to never let anyone else ever learn his secret again.

That plan was once again fucked by none other than Sirius Black and his unfortunate ‘prank’ on Severus Snape that could have cost Remus and Severus both of their lives, or at the very least, their lives as they knew it.

Remus Lupin then planned to never forgive Sirius Black for that horrible, thoughtless prank. 

Remus was admittedly not all that sad to say that this particular plan was shot too, though he ensured Sirius suffered at least a little during the process of his forgiveness. 

So, as he sat at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall in September of his 7th year listening to his friend’s wax poetic about their different love interests or conquests that they had made over the summer (i.e., James’ love for Lily, Sirius’ many hook-ups, and Peter’s enthusiastic support of them both), Remus made yet another plan.

Remus John Lupin planned to never, ever, fall in love. 

Moony, it would seem, had other plans. 

Continue to the first chapter here.

#marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #reader insert #self insert #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin #werewolf mcswearwolf #werewolf soulmate #soulmate au #hp marauders #remus lupin ficlet #remus lupin blurb #werewolf #the lupins #james potter #sirius black #peter pettigrew #lily evans

[stevebabey]

no one asked but this is the post that inspired this! thank u immensely for the luv <3 number 1 comment was wondering what steve’s bids were & from his pov, so without further ado...enjoy — part one here!

—

Begrudgingly, Eddie has to admit that Robin might be right.

It’s impossible not to be looking for the bids since he brought them up to her. Even though Eddie was fully expecting to tell Robin to suck it, maybe even wager what little money he had against this working out, Eddie can’t help but watch for them in every interaction. And fuck, she’s right.

They’re little, but they’re there.

The first one Eddie would’ve missed if he wasn’t looking for it. Actually, that’s a lie; Eddie does miss it, until Robin points it out, the nosy bitch. It’s minuscule and honestly, it just seems like Steve asking his opinion — which friends do all the time! It’s why Eddie brushes right over it.

“Okay, be honest,“ Steve had said, walking and talking as he entered the living room where Robin and Eddie were sprawled across the couches. They were both waiting on him, the three of them set on heading out to the drive-in to catch a film.

Eddie can’t fathom why Steve felt the need to change his outfit for it, but when he returns, he gets it. It’s not quite the usual polo Eddie had grown to like on Steve, this one hanging a little looser, the colour a bit darker than Steve’s usual choice, the sleeves a little shorter — almost midway to a muscle tee.

Steve’s fingers fiddle with the distressed collar of the shirt, smoothing invisible wrinkles and fussing over nothing. He swishes back his floppy hair with a flick of his head. “It’s a new shirt, I know it’s a little different - but what do we think?”

He says we but he’s looking at Eddie.

Eddie, who has taken to trying to reel in his gawp because what the fuck Steve? It’s like he’s well aware of what drives Eddie insane and has specifically leaned into it. Some evil goblin in Eddie’s brain whispers think how good he’d look in your shirt and he squashes it, giving a visible twitch to shut down that train of thought.

From the other couch, Robin clears her throat loudly and smiles sweetly at her best friend. “It looks great, Steve.”

It’s sincere and Steve’s mouth tugs up, nearly a smile but his gaze fast-tracks back to Eddie. Eddie nods in agreement, a bit sluggish from his distracting thoughts and god dammit, the extra exposed skin of Steve’s arms are so not helping. “Yeah, looks... looks good, man.”

Steve smiles, lips pressed together but his shoulders curl in just a bit, deflating just a tad. From where Steve can’t see her, Robin waves her hands wildly and catches Eddie’s attention. He watches as she gestures wildly and it takes a moment to realise what’s she mouthing — ‘A bid! That’s a bid, you idiot!’

Oh fuck, Eddie thinks. Cos it totally was; the question, the focus on Eddie. He doesn’t even think about the logistics of it, of the fact Robin was right, just jumps right into picking up the bid.

“You trying a new style?” Eddie asks and then thanks whatever god invented the whole fake-it-to-you-make-it schtick because he’s feeling so far from casual or confident. “Going metal on me, big boy?”

Eddie just manages to catch the grin that breaks across Steve’s face as he turns away, giving a scoff — it comes out too soft though, giving away his complete lack of annoyance. He pulls that usual Steve Harrington pose, hands sliding onto his hips, and screws his face into some melted smiley-grimace. “Shut up, Munson.”

Eddie grins and goads on the blush that’s beginning on Steve’s neck, a glorious tinged pink colour. “If this shirt is any indication, you’d pull it off just fine.”

Eddie watches the blush climb higher as Steve ignores the comment, his smile still giving him away. He grabs his coat and pats down his jeans — ridiculous tight acid wash jeans that Eddie hates he’s somehow become attracted to — ensuring he has his keys and wallet. Once assured, he looks up at his two friends again, brows raised, and says, “Ready to rock and roll?”

That comment alone has Eddie seriously reconsidering his type in men.

There’s only a brief moment to talk about it when Eddie and Robin cajole Steve into going and getting them both popcorn to get a moment alone. Steve had scoffed, face twitching in the way it did whenever he tried to hold back a bitchy comment, but he still stomped off in the direction of the snack stand.

The moment he’s out of earshot, both voices explode in the back of Eddie’s van.

“What did I say—”

“Jesus H Christ, you were right—”

“Literally how many times do I have—”

“Oh my god, you were right—”

“ —before you realise I’m always—”

“Robin.” He cuts her off, hands landing on her shoulders. Robin eyes them warily, lips still parted from how her rant had been cut off. “Robin, I’m gonna kill you.”

“What?” Robin’s nose scrunches up. “What the hell are you—”

“Oh Christ, I can’t believe- how long have you noticed those bids?” Eddie’s aware he sounds a bit estranged, eyes probably wide and it doesn’t help when he softly shakes Robin back and forth. She lets herself be shaken, hair flying back in forth. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me! You are such a bad gay friend!”

Robin smacks his hands off her shoulders with a frown, her freckly face perturbed at Eddie’s outburst. “Dude, it’s not my fault! May I remind you that until very very recently you were seeing someone else? What difference would it have made?”

Eddie waves his hand, disregarding the point with a shake of his head. His unkempt curls cover his face and Eddie sweeps them back in one motion, “What difference would it have made? Oh my, Jesus—“

Whatever long-winded sentence Eddie was about to spit out is lost by the sound of Steve’s approaching footsteps, effectively shutting both of them up.

Eddie flings himself to the other side of the van, putting an unusual amount of distance between Robin and him like they were being caught doing something they shouldn’t.

Robin frowns at him and gestures wildly with her hands in a way that means what the fuck man? Eddie gestures back, though he’s not entirely sure what his fast hand motions are supposed to mean when Steve rounds the door.

He’s got two buckets of popcorn tucked under each arm and Eddie quickly crosses his arms, tucking his hands into his armpits like his stupid hand motions will somehow give him away. 

Steve looks up, stopping just a way from the edge of the van, and looks at the pair of them. His eyes track from Robin still sitting on one of the old cushions and looking two seconds from burying her face in her hands, across to Eddie. He huffs a laugh and kneels on the edge of the van.

“I know he’s gross Robin,” He begins, tone light, as he holds out one of the buckets for Robin to take. “But c’mon, is the distance really necessary?”

Robin snickers as Eddie makes an appalled noise, both of which make Steve smirk. He holds out the other for Eddie to take and Eddie snatches it, glaring at him over the buttery rim for his comment. Then takes a handful and shovels it in because he can’t think of a witty comment to retaliate. Steve crawls into the van and plops himself between them with a content sigh.

“See? Gross.” He teases, shoving his hand into Eddie’s popcorn bucket to grab a handful. Eddie scowls and chews a little faster when the flavour on his tongue seems to register in his brain.

His eyes stare at the popcorn bucket as he chews, then swallows — up the front of the van, the radio that’s tuned into the correct frequency begins playing the opening credits song as the screen changes. Silence sweeps across the drive-in but despite the sudden hush, Eddie has no qualms about breaking it.

“Sweet n’ salty flavour?” He asks Steve, only half attempting a whisper. Robin shushes him instantly, her focus already on the movie that’s beginning. Steve smiles, looking a bit sheepish beneath the glow of the drive-in screen, but he nods.

“I know you like it.” He whispers with a small shrug of his shoulders. Like it wasn’t a big deal. Fuck, Eddie thinks again and hastily feeds himself another handful of popcorn before he says anything majorly stupid in response to that, like: Oh, amazing- have you noticed the big fat crush I have on you as well?

He doesn’t even need to look at Robin to know she’s smiling, smug as ever.

—

Steve, God bless his oblivious little heart, doesn’t even realise he’s doing it.

Steve likes Eddie. Eddie is— god, Eddie is different but he’s good.

He’s this strange amalgamation of traits that Steve can’t comprehend how they fit together in one body or how Eddie manages to pull it all off completely charmingly.

He’s loud, he says rude things, he’s fucking dorky, and far too sweet on the kids — he likes to tease Steve, and yet somehow, when Eddie calls him ‘pretty boy’, Steve knows he’s not actually making fun of him.

Steve likes Eddie, likes his boyishly endearing charm, likes his touchiness towards Steve that no other boy his age is like, likes his messy curls and his ‘holier than thou’ attitude about metal music even though Steve doesn’t get it, like at all. And fuck, Steve really wants Eddie to like him.

It reminds him faintly of when he first started working alongside Robin at Scoops. That thought tickles in the back of his mind, something along the lines of how he had wanted Robin to like him for other reasons, but he doesn’t delve into it.

To Steve, it’s simple: he just wants Eddie to like him.

After the night at the drive-in, between Eddie acting strangely skittish and Robin giving more amused snorts than usual, Steve knows something is up.

He knows they must have discussed something when they sent him on popcorn duty, the bastards. He tries his best to not feel left out; god knows Robin and he have more than a dozen secrets they’ve sworn not to tell anyone but each other.

Besides, Steve trusts Robin to come and tell him if he really needs to know, even if it does worry him a bit. He bites down his anxious thoughts, even trying for a moment to see if there’s a pattern he’s been missing.

That train of thought gets derailed when Steve recalls instead Eddie’s delightful reaction to his new shirt — that Steve definitely hadn’t bought for that specific reason.

Even though Robin had given him that look when he’d first shown it to her — her bright eyes had narrowed, her smile turning a little more coy, and Steve had felt his ears get a little hotter. She hadn’t said anything though, just suggested that he should wear it tomorrow night when they were going out with Eddie.

God, he was glad she suggested it.

Rewinding over Eddie’s parted lips, the way his brown eyes had drank in the details as they trailed up his body and lingered on his arms— Steve had the sudden thought to flex the muscle, just to elicit some reaction, but it had gone out the window at Eddie’s original dismal reaction.

‘Yeah, looks... looks good, man’. Said all aloof, like he hadn’t really thought it. It was like bursting a balloon hidden behind Steve’s ribs, one he wasn’t even aware was there until it was deflating pathetically, making his shoulders sag.

Then— ‘You trying a new style? Going metal on me, big boy?’ And dammit, it’s like Eddie had clocked exactly what calling him ‘big boy’ had done the first time in the Winnebago.

Eddie had then grinned, done another once over of the new shirt, even as Steve pretended to search for his keys and wallet while saying something snarky to try to cover up the heat crawling up his neck. Yet, Steve found himself smiling too because, fuck yes, Eddie liked it too.

But, apparently, whatever Eddie and Robin had discussed wasn’t considered important enough because Robin never brought it up.

The thought and worry about it melt away in Steve’s mind until the memory of that night is about Eddie’s compliment, about his cat-like grin over the popcorn bucket, and how he had leaned over to whisper every bad joke into Steve’s ear all through the movie.

Some of them had been down-right filthy jokes which Eddie only seemed to enjoy more when Steve screwed his face up and nudged Eddie in the ribs, yet unable to hide his smile.

After the third vulgar joke and subsequent nudge, Steve had chided ‘dude’ with a poorly hidden grin. Eddie, smile all cheeky, had nudged him back with a ‘dude’ of his own.

Which, of course, ensued a nudge competition til Robin had given a shush that librarians all over the world would be jealous of. But Steve didn’t even care because he and Eddie were arm to arm, pressed close together and Eddie…didn’t move. Stayed close, like he wanted the closeness the same way Steve did.

Steve only remembers the strange drive-in moment when Robin brings it up finally, on one interesting Saturday night.

It’s not the usual routine; it’s not very often that the whole group gets together to share drinks and get rowdy.

But it was for Robin’s birthday and she’d been persuasive enough to get even the introverts, like Jonathan, to come along. Though, she was aware he’d probably spend the night on a pool lounger, stoned to high heaven. Whatever floats your boat, she’d said, happy for the company in any form.

There’s enough of them there that it almost resembles some sort of party— and makes Steve try not to think about the last small party he threw here. He can tell Nancy notices it too, eyeing the pool a bit too long in a way he’s very familiar with, then taking a swig of beer.

So, Steve heckles them inside — doing a fantastic mothering impression as he waves the group indoors with a promise of pizza, and that has both Jonathan and Argyle perking up and beginning a fast discussion on the best pizza toppings.

Eddie makes a fuss, because of course he does, and moans terribly when Steve tries to roll him off the pool lounger he’s on. He’s had a bit of a joint and some beer, and Steve’s learned that he gets adorably stubborn after some substances.

“Stevie, this is mean,” he had pouted, gripping the edges of the lounger and staring up at Steve with those big brown eyes. “You telling me I did all that bonding with you for nothing? Can’t even lounge by the pool! I’ve got a couch at homeeeee.”

Steve had sent him an amused look of disbelief, hands on his hips after his first round of flicks against Eddie’s arm were apparently fruitless to get him to move. “Really? Didn’t peg you for a gold-digger, Eds.”

Eddie had snorted at that, one hand coming to slap over his mouth. Steve couldn’t quite hear what he had said but the words pegging and anytime slipped through and Steve thinks he could get the gist of that.

“Oh for Christ’s sake,” Steve muttered, feeling the tips of his ears turn warm. He didn’t know how Eddie could be such a menace— or why he enjoyed it so much when he was. Steve waved a hand in the direction of the doors, ignoring Eddie’s delighted snickering. “If you go inside now, you can be on music, alright?”

And that had finally got them all indoors, Eddie whooping and skedaddling through the doors in an instant, with a call of ‘no take backsies!’ echoing behind him.

Inside was much cozier, the whole group a little more connected when squished up on the couches together. Eddie had taken Steve’s word and was jamming a cassette into one of the speakers when Steve made it back inside after scouting around the pool for leftover cans and butts to throw out.

He’s just been thinking about what playful jab he could make at Eddie’s music, like Eddie always did to him when Robin hollered at him from the kitchen.

“Steve!” She’d yelled excitedly and he come to find her quick, brows raised as he entered the kitchen. She was grinning, already a bit jumpy as she got when she had a bit of liquor — but apparently not enough because when Steve saw what she’d called him in for, she’d announced, “Tequila shots!”

Which lead to now. A hazy combination of beer, tequila, and a bit of weed, and Steve is feeling good. Robin had managed to hijack the music not too long ago, with a hiccup of ‘it’s my birthday’ that had Eddie surrendering with a pout.

She’d since put on a bit of everything: some Blondie for Nance, Talking Heads for Jonathan, and some Bowie, just so she and Steve could dance along to ‘Magic Dance’ and she could do all the silly little goblin voices that made them both cackle.

Steve realised at some point that Robin was playing their mixtape, the one she’d made for driving in the morning, and nearly tripped stumbling over to her in his excitement. He grabbed her shoulders, not too hard, and squeezed.

“Is it- is this our mixtape?” Steve asked, words slurring only a bit. Robin gleamed, hair bouncing with her excited nod.

“Yes!” She was already dancing, even though the tape was between songs — because she knew what song was coming. “It’s Springsteen time, Steve!”

Right as the drums to Born to Run filtered out the speaker.

And oh, Steve loves Robin so much. He loves having a best friend that knows his favourite song and gets jittery and excited because she knows it’s about to play— that she put it on this mix for him.

“You’re my best friend!” Steve says, the words bursting out like he can’t control them. He doesn’t even feel embarrassed, just happy, just drunk, and overwhelming happy to be able to have this.

And even though Robin knows this, she still beams, feet dancing along and just begins to sing along with the song, “In the days, we sweat it out on the streets of a runaway American dream…”

It’s a brazen drunken performance from the both of them. Steve’s chest is heaving after just one chorus that he’s pretty sure he put his whole soul into and he’s so fucking happy —and it feels like pure instinct to seek out Eddie, his eyes scouring the room for him.

Eddie’s leaned up against the wall, hiding his smile behind a can and Steve doesn’t think twice about it— doesn’t think about why he’s so drawn to Eddie, why he wants to include him in this happiness — just extends his hand out and grins.

Eddie sees the bid coming this time.

Part Three.

— 

yes i saw all ur lovely tags and MAYBE cried about it. but thats none of ur business.

@orangeandthefairroadkill @swimmingbirdrunningrock @sadcanadianwinter @phantypurple @omg-elledubs-things @henderdads @farfaras @mixsethaddams @prismandblue @kerlypride @bushbees @legitcookie @temporalcoffin @callmesirkay @beautifully-useless @millyditty @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @ninjapirateunicorns @darkwitchoferie @vi-the-best-you-can @psychosnowfox @desert-fern @scarletzgo @cr0w-culture @softpink-candlelight @livingforfictionalcharacters @makewavesandwar @kozuuji @rhapsodyinalto @eddiethesexy @cassaloopa @lightwoodbanethings @qu33rcommunist @moonlitkilljoy @starkdusk @theysherobinbuckley @sanguineterrain @loganwright @sillysparrow @hotcocoaharrington @eddie-munson-is-my-wife @she-is-tim @steddiehearts @sideblogofthcentury @sidebarre @corrodedcoughin @stevieclaus

#OBLIVIOUS STEVE IS MY FAVOURITE!!!! #idiots in love #they're so important to me ur honour #on god am i gonna make them KISS #but steve's gotta figure it out first lol #ruby writes steddie #steddie #steddie ficlet #i think i can call it a fic now lol each part is 3k+ i think #steddie fic #IF U WANTED TO BE TAGGED AND I DIDNT IM SORRY #lest i come off terribly egotistical i need direct instructions to tag lmao #even then i tagged sum people that just said 'can't wait for part 2!' which? isn't? #I DUNNO #i went off vibes someone said they were vibrating so i was like get over here the next part is here #one of these tags is just a steddie blog i love.... and they reblogged part 1 #corrodedcoughin <3 i love u hehe #the stobin bestie love SHINES in this #i love them so much they are BEST FRIENDS!!! #if u have any ideas... i do love reading the tags and seeing what people want to see next ! im fuckin making it up as i go lol

[solarmorrigan]

( @nitro502-the-sequel​‘s tags on this post made me ugly laugh and then I had to write something, I hope that’s okay??)

Wait, no, this is hilarious, hold on

Steve drops Eddie off at home later that night, where Wayne is awake and puttering around in the kitchen making what might possibly be lunch (he tends to keep overnight hours even on his days off, so as not to completely fuck his sleep schedule, but hell if Eddie can keep track of what time of “day” it is for him).

Wayne gives Eddie a nod of acknowledgement and turns back to the pan he’s stirring on the stove. “How was your–”

“HE CROCHETED ME A SCARF.”

This was a little louder than Eddie had meant to be, but Wayne, to his credit, doesn’t even flinch. He turns back to look at where Eddie is standing in the middle of the living area, clutching the ends of the aforementioned scarf like it’s a towel at the end of the world.

“Who did?”

“Steve.”

“Huh,” is all Wayne says. “Is crocheting the thing with the…?” He holds his fists out in front of him, rotating them at the wrists like he’s rowing a very tiny boat.

“No, that’s knitting. Apparently, they’re different,” Eddie says, brows raised and hands held up in front of him, like he can fend off the ghost of Steve’s surprisingly enthusiastic lecture on the subject. “Crocheting is with a hook, like–” Eddie holds out one curled fist, trying to demonstrate, but it mostly just looks like he’s either stabbing something or failing to pick up some invisible spaghetti. He gives up and flutters his hands in front of himself, clearing the image. “He showed me – never mind, it’s – you’re missing the point!”

“And I’m sure you’re gonna tell me what that is,” Wayne says, turning back to the stove before the beans (Eddie’s pretty sure it’s beans he’s smelling) start to burn.

“Steve crocheted me a scarf,” Eddie enunciates, because putting the proper emphasis on certain words will definitely solve the problem.

Wayne just hums. “Well, that was nice of him. Lord knows I can never get you to wear anything warm.”

Eddie groans, clutching at this scalp and then running his hands through his hair. He’s at least seventy-five percent certain Wayne is being obtuse on purpose.

“But what am I supposed to do about it?” he laments.

“Wear it, I’d say,” Wayne replies. “Can I see it?”

Eddie hesitates for a second, because it’s his scarf and Steve made it for him, and he doesn’t want anything to happen to it when he hasn’t even had it for twenty-four hours, but then he decides he’s being ridiculous, because if he can trust anyone with his stuff, it’s Wayne. He unwinds the scarf from around his neck and passes it over.

Wayne’s brows go up as he looks over the close, even stitches, running his fingers over the little ridges Steve somehow made with yarn. He nods appraisingly. “It’s nice,” he says, handing it back.

“Right?” Eddie tosses it back around his neck with a sigh.

“Did you say thank you?”

“Yes,” Eddie says, before thinking back over the moment when Steve had told him that the scarf was for him. “…more or less.”

Wayne shakes his head, turning back to his food with some unfavorable mutter about Eddie’s manners.

“Okay, but I think you’re still not seeing the problem here,” Eddie insists.

“Looks like the problem is that you’re having a conniption over a scarf in the middle of the damn living room,” Wayne shoots back.

“No, that’s– well I mean– no,” Eddie sputters. “Okay, look, what would you do if a girl made a scarf for you?”

Wayne pauses, and Eddie loves his uncle with his whole shriveled heart, but it is always funny watching him try to shift gears when he realizes they’re talking about gay things now.

“Well,” Wayne says slowly, “pretty sure I’m a little too old to have any girl knitting me a scarf.”

“Oh my god,” Eddie groans. “Fine! A mature woman, then. Work with me here!”

Eddie gets a raised eyebrow at the mature woman comment, but Wayne lets it slide. He tilts his head consideringly as he spoons some beans out onto a plate by the stove, where he’s already got toast waiting. He tilts the pan at Eddie, wordlessly offering, and Eddie shakes his head.

“I suppose I’d have to get her something in return,” Wayne finally says. “Or make her something, if I was the creative type.”

Eddie gets another pointed look at those last two words, and he groans again, letting his head fall back in defeat, because he’d been afraid that would be the answer.

“I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to make. It’s not like I can make him warm clothes or do anything useful,” Eddie says, so caught up in the sudden and dramatic realization that all of his hobbies are entirely useless that he doesn’t manage to duck in time when Wayne gives him a not-entirely-gentle smack on the back of the head as he passes by into the living room.

“Stop that. The things you make are just fine. It doesn’t have to be useful, it just has to be thoughtful,” Wayne says, settling into his chair. “So quit standing around whining and go come up with something you can make to woo your boy.”

“Oh my god.” Eddie covers his face, even though Wayne will definitely already know he’s gone red. “You’re actually the worst. I don’t know why I talk to you.”

“You’re welcome for the advice,” Wayne drawls.

“Yeah, yeah.” Eddie waves a dismissive hand at him, but the quick “thanks” he throws out afterwards is entirely sincere.

He retreats to his room after that; apparently, he has some thinking to do.

[Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Epilogue | Ao3]

#eddie munson #wayne munson #eddie & wayne #steddie #stranger things #what does eddie make for steve?? #fucked if I know there is absolutely a reason I stopped writing where I did #I've also never written wayne before but it was fun to try #solar wrote

[stylesispunk]

Waiting room

Joel Miller x f! reader

summary: A few years ago, Joel saved your life and you have loved him ever since but he didn't reciprocate your feelings or that's what you thought. word count: 2,5k a/n: I didn't write a chapter for "The Not so Invisible String" series but wrote this. I would appreciate receiving reblogs and comments. Happy reading!

Dividers by @/cafekitsune

"What happened to me?" you questioned, your curiosity seeking answers.

"I found you," the stranger replied. "You had slept for two days."

In two days, you changed the rules of the game.

In two days, Joel came across with his humanity when he found you laying on the ground after being beaten up by some smugglers.

And what a plot twist you were.

You were so young and naïve when the world broke into a mess, and the reminisces of your old life before were just fogging memories threatened to be erased completely by the clouds of your head. You had forgotten your mother’s voice, the taste of the cookies she baked on Sunday’s afternoons, and the essence of her perfume enveloping you in embraces you were never going to get back.

You still craved a lingering, real sort of comfort that hadn’t come. In this world, emotions make you weak, and being weak means you die.

The closest thing to caring you received from someone was from Joel. The day he found you, he treated your wounds, he prevented you from dying by starving himself, and he fed you with his food.

“I broke my rules for you.” He peeped once you recovered, but still, he let you stay.

Through the months and years, you had become accustomed to the idea of him and Tess being the only people you could trust; they were older and wiser than you, a perk but also a source of constant disappointment over the idea of you being seen as the foolish, weak kid.

You felt a burden. You were a constant troublemaker, getting into trouble with everyone who seemed to mess with you, but under some eyes, you were still Joel’s girl, just that you really weren’t. You just idealize the idea of it.

Because every time somebody hit you, he was there, and if that wasn’t love, what the fuck was it?

You knew that there was something between them beyond a simple partner-in-crime relationship. They weren’t what you would call lovers, but there was unspoken language between them you couldn’t decipher, not because you were a fool but because you weren’t a part of them.

Because you weren’t important,

You didn’t know if Joel cared about you coming back.

You were just someone Joel found almost dying.

Whereas for you, he was the closest thing you felt to home.

"Where were you?" his voice called out in the middle of the dark room, breaking the silence of the eerie night.

“God, you scared me,” you answered. "I thought you were asleep."

"You know I don't go to sleep unless I know you're here." His voice was so sharp it could cut in half.

Liar.

“You are asleep other times,” you acknowledged, trying to remove your boots without whimpering as the pain settled in your bones. “And I'm here. You can go to sleep now," you hissed, out of frustration but also from the pain emanating from cuts.

"No."

"Well, I'll go then," you replied.

“Come here, show me,” he demanded.

“No.”

“Come here,” he repeated, frustrated this time.

“I said, “

“Now!” the raised tone sent shivers down your spine, forming a lump in your throat.

You were there, not moving, and he was closer. The dim light in the room cast eerie shadows as he examined your face, his fingertips tracing the evidence of the scars painted on your skin.

The cut on your bottom lip throbbed with each breath. A bruise, vividly purple, marred the skin around your eye, testimony to the violence that had been part of it and the cut on your nose, which seemed to be broken.

Not only do you face hurt, but all your body is carrying the consequences of a beating you didn’t think you deserved. Your bones felt crushed under the pressure of the emotional turbulence going on in your head.

And Joel’s touch, his gentle touch, so delicate yet full of fury, not towards you but at the merciless people that forced such a wound on you. You winced as his fingers grazed the tender skin; his silence was so loud.

“Who did this to you?” he muttered, frustration lacing his voice. The sharpness of his earlier tone softened under your teary stare.

“It doesn’t matter,” you replied.

“It does to me,” he retorted.

“No. Joel, let me be alone. It hurts; my body was hit, and I would be dead if it weren’t for you,“you sobbed.

“For what?”

"For you," you admitted through a shaky breath, the weight of the truth bearing down on you. The room seemed to shrink as you uttered those words, exposing a vulnerability that had remained buried beneath the facade of strength.

Joel's eyes softened, and the fury in his touch transformed into a gentleness that contrasted with the brutality of reality outside. In that fleeting moment, it was just the two of you, suspended in a fragile moment.

His voice, now a whisper, carried a mix of concern and disbelief. "For me?"

“The only reason I’m not dead is because of you. Can you believe it?” You chuckled. “One of the men there recognized me as Joel’s girl, who I am not, and then they stopped. Not even because I’m a person, but because I am associated with a man.”

Joel's expression tightened at the revelation, a flicker of anger passing through his eyes.

“Let me clean your wounds, “Joel began, his voice a gentle plea to attend to your wounds.

"No. I don't need your fucking help," you interrupted, frustration lacing your words, tired of being the dog at Joel’s door waiting for him to notice your loyalty and devotion.

"Yes, you need it because you're a fucking naive baby acting restless and so careless." Joel retorted, frustrated.

“"I have no one. My life is just a waste of air for this damn world, so why should I care about my well-being?" you shot back bitterly, the pain in your voice mirroring the bruises on your body.

"Because I care about you," Joel admitted, his words a brief glimmer of hope. However, before you could fully grasp the weight of his confession, he extinguished any expectations. "You have Tess and me; we share our roof with you."

"Exactly. Your place, not mine," you argued, a stark reminder of the boundaries that confined your sense of belonging.

"Your point?" Joel challenged.

"You found me once and brought me here, okay? Thanks for it. But that doesn't mean I have your respect," you asserted, the frustration bubbling to the surface.

"My protection is not enough." Joel questioned, his patience wearing thin.

"It's not," you replied with conviction.

"Then you can go and find your own fucking place."

"That's what I'm doing. I'm leaving the QZ. There may be a place that fits for me," you declared, the decision firm in your voice.

Joel's silence echoed through the room, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. But you offered none, maintaining a stoic resolve as you walked away from the confrontation.

"What? Where?" he finally managed to utter, a mixture of confusion and concern etched on his face.

"Goodnight," you replied tersely, your voice carrying the weight of unspoken emotions. The darkness of the hallway enveloped you as you retreated towards the bedroom. The door creaked shut behind you, leaving Joel standing in the dimly lit room, grappling with the echoes of your departure.

The room was shrouded in darkness, and you lay on the bed, the events of the night replaying in your mind like a relentless loop making fun of you for being so foolish, but despite the physical exhaustion, sleep eluded you, and your thoughts continued to wander through the tangled maze of emotions.

And Joel, of course, whom you were leaving behind tomorrow morning before he could even notice you were going to disappear.

As you lay there, the door creaked open, and Joel entered, carrying a small bottle and a cloth. The soft glow of a flashlight in his hand illuminated his face, revealing concern and remorse for his previous attitude.

"I brought something for the pain," he muttered, his gruff voice softened by a vulnerability you rarely could see. You remained silent, acknowledging his presence with a nod.

Joel approached, his movements deliberate as he poured a few pills onto his weathered palm. "Take these. They'll help with the pain and help you sleep."

You reluctantly accepted the medicine, swallowing it down with a sip of water from a nearby bottle. The bitterness lingered on your tongue.

Joel then reached for the cloth, dampening it with water. Gently, he began to clean the wounds on your face, his touch surprisingly tender. The initial sting of contact faded, replaced by a strange mix of relief and discomfort.

"Joel,” you said, but he didn’t answer and focused on tending to your injuries.

"Joel," you repeated, a little more assertive this time. His name hung in the air, yet he remained silent, his attention fixed on the task at hand. The rhythmic motions of cleaning your wounds seemed to be his sole purpose.

You took a deep breath, the weight of unspoken words settling heavily in the room. "Joel," you said once more, this time with an edge of urgency, attempting to draw him out of his concentrated silence.

He finally looked up, meeting your gaze. "What is it?"

The room felt hot with tension as you hesitated before finding the words. "I appreciate this—the medicine, cleaning my wounds. But it doesn't change my mind about leaving.”

His gaze held yours, an unspoken plea for understanding. "You're hurt; you can't go so far in your state," he replied, a touch of concern in his voice.

"So what?" you retorted, frustration bubbling to the surface. "If I have to die outside, I will. I don't care. I'm just tired of this life."

Joel's eyes narrowed, his expression shifting from anger to concern. "What would make that thought go away?" he asked, his question cutting through the defiance in your tone.

"What?" you responded, caught off guard by the unexpected question.

"What would make life worth living?" he repeated, his gaze unwavering. The weight of his inquiry settled in the room, demanding introspection.

The silence that followed was heavy, the question lingering in the air as you grappled with the complexities of your own desires and the harsh realities of the world outside that broke any chance of achieving the dreams you had when you were a child.

The silence stretched, becoming a tangible force in the room, until Joel's desperation cut through it like a blade. "I'm waiting," he said, his tone laden with urgency.

"To have someone," you confessed, your voice carrying the weight of unspoken longings.

"How?" he pressed, searching for clarity in your cryptic words.

"To have someone that cares for me," you explained, the vulnerability in your voice laying bare a deep-seated yearning, a yearning you had been carrying for years.

"You have me," Joel insisted, his desperation now tinged with frustration.

"You're not mine; you're hers," you said, invoking Tess. "Do you think I don't hear you both having sex?”

His eyes widened, realization dawning on him as the unspoken truth reverberated in the room.

"Maybe my body was hers, but inside, it's here." Joel took your hand and placed it over his chest, just above his heart. "I'm craving for you."

A tense silence enveloped the room as your words hung in the air, and Joel's eyes reflected all the sincerity of his feelings slipping from his lips. Your skepticism pierced through the charged atmosphere, casting a shadow over the vulnerability that had been exposed.

"I don't believe you," you declared, a note of disbelief in your voice.

Joel's expression tightened, a blend of irritation and determination etched on his face. "You don't?"

"You're just saying those things out of pity," you accused, the walls of defense rising once more.

He shook his head, a flicker of frustration evident in his eyes. "You are whiny, a pain in the ass, arrogant, naive..."

"Stop!" you exclaimed, the litany of criticism hitting you harder than expected.

"Yet, despite it all," Joel continued, his voice a mixture of exasperation and something deeper, "you make me go crazy, and still, I want to break every single finger that has been laid against you."

The weight of Joel's words hung in the air, a revelation that cut through the tension and laid bare the depth of his emotions. His eyes, always filled with exasperation, now held a raw vulnerability.

"You don't realize that you brought sense back to my life!" he exclaimed, the urgency in his voice echoing through the room. "If you go and you die, there's nothing left for me to fight for."

"I want to be the last one you love," he spoke, his hands cupping your face, fingers tracing delicate patterns over the scars that adorned your skin. His gaze, dark and intense, held a promise that lingered in the air. "I want to be your ending."

"And I want you to be my ending," he added, referring to the weight of the words hanging between you.

A profound silence settled, punctuated only by the erratic beats of your heart against your ribs, In that moment, you felt that the confession of love coming from Joel was the last source of breath you needed to become a person again.

And then, he kissed you. With a warning written on his dark eyes, yet you didn't see it coming. He kissed you because there wasn't anything else to do. He wanted to claim your lips as them because they were his.

Joel's lips lingered against yours, the warmth of his kiss irradiated foreign feelings for you. You had never felt so loved for someone before, and as the kiss deepened, a subtle smile played on his lips, a rare expression coming from him.

He pulled away slightly, his dark eyes searching yours for any sign of resistance. His hands, calloused and weathered, gently caressed your face, tracing the contours of the scars on your face.

"You're not leaving," he spoke against your lips, with another gentle peck on them.

A shy smile played on your lips in response. "Whatever,” you replied.

Joel's confession had acted as a healing salve, mending not just the physical scars but also the emotional ones that had marked your journey through this world.

Joel's eyes softened as he caught the playful glint in your smile, and a warmth seemed to spread through the room. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a comforting embrace. The strength in his arms felt like a shield against the harshness of the world outside.

"You can be stubborn as hell, you know that?" he teased, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

As he held you in his arms, the world outside faded away, and all that remained was the warmth of the embrace and the quiet assurance of shared moments.

"Get some rest," he murmured, his voice a soothing whisper. "I'll be right here."

With Joel's arms wrapped around you, the weariness of the day and the weight of the past seemed to dissolve.

In the arms of Joel, the night embraced you, and as you closed your eyes, you found life worth living because of him.

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