#me to everyone else: blink motherfucker

[hp-hcs]

green eyed monster (part one of two) — yandere! jealous! fwb! theodore nott x gn! drunk! dumbass! slytherin! reader

theo’s just like…randomly the king of consent here? idk but i’m here for it!!! 👑

reader is like, really pushy, even when theo says no? like, it’s lowkey a side eye, ngl. but i asked my allo boyfie, and he said it was pretty par for the course for a drunk person to act this way so idfk 🤷 lemme know y’all

no actual smut yet! that’s in part two, which i’ll do my best to finish soon!

warnings: it’s literally just talking about sex for 1k words,❗️reader just sort of completely ignores the word no❗️, reader is under the influence of alcohol, threats of violence to reader, one minor instance of slut shaming, possessive/jealous behavior, underage drinking/teen partying

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Hi, Teddy! D’you wanna hook up?”

Theodore blinked as you stumbled your way through the Slytherin party’s crowds over to him. “Y/n, you’re drunk.”

“So?”

“So I’m not going to sleep with you,” he said plainly, narrowing his eyes in confusion. “You can’t consent right now.”

You shrugged. “No worries. I can go find someone else.”

“No. You can’t consent to them either. C’mon, let me walk you back to your dorm,” Theo sighed, ruffling your hair and plucking the plastic cup from your fingers before chucking it in the trash.

“Oh, c’mon, Teddy- even if I can’t have fun with you, I still want to have some,” you whine, pouting at him. He rolled his eyes and started leading you through the crowded common room by the hand he had splayed across your lower back. “C’mon, Teddy. D’you at least know where Mattheo is?”

But the sound of another guy’s name coming out of your mouth immediately caused Theo’s calm and caring demeanor to shift into a hate-filled scowl as he stopped dead in his tracks and snatched up your jaw in his free hand. “Y/n. Don’t you dare. He’s off limits.”

“…Huh?” You blinked.

“Circe- do I have to dumb it down for you? If you do anything with Mattheo, I swear on my mother’s grave, I’ll make you regret it,” he hissed at you, grabbing your tie and tugging you forward. “Fuck, if you so much as look at Riddle—let alone touch him—I’ll carve out your fucking eyes. Got it?”

“Shit, alright, well- if not Matty, then Enz, I guess,” you suggested, entirely unperturbed by the threat.

Theodore was practically seething. “You’d try to whore yourself out to Enzo too? No. He’s also off limits.”

You startled at his sudden aggression. “Uh- Blaise…?”

“Off. Limits.”

“Even Malfoy?”

“Everyone.”

“Potter?”

Theo’s eyes narrowed. “Anyone you’ve ever met, or anyone I’ve ever met, or anyone I see on the street is off limits.”

“Does that include you?” You asked dumbly, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“What do you fucking think, darling?” He snapped, grabbing your hand and yanking you through the common room and down the hall.

“Ooh, somebody’s jealous,” you said in a singsong voice, grinning at him.

Theo sighed, his anger quickly evaporating at the sight of your dumb drunken smile. “Yeah, yeah. Shush.” He rolled his eyes fondly.

You both walked in a comfortable silence for a moment before you piped up again. “This ain’t the direction to my dorm.”

“No, I’m taking you back to mine. Don’t get your hopes up-” he added quickly when he saw you perk up with a tipsy grin. “We’re literally just going to sleep in the same bed.”

Your grin fell into another pout. “Dick.”

“That’s exactly what I’m not giving you.”

You giggled and leaned heavily against him as he unlocked his dorm door and ushered you inside.

“Theo- c’mon, your bed’s right there,” you pleaded.

“Yeah, and you’re going to fall asleep in it. That’s it.”

“Motherfucker- c’mon,” you whined. “Damn you for being so fuckin’…morally good an’ shit.”

“Don’t be a brat, Y/n.”

“Oh, shut up, bitch.”

Theo closed his eyes and let out a slow breath through his teeth. “I swear to Merlin- once you’re sober, I’m going to fuck that attitude right out of you.”

“Promise?” You asked cheekily, reaching out to smooth a hand over his chest.

“Salazar, you’re lucky you’re drunk right now,” he grumbled, batting your hand away and holding onto the sides of your shoulders to steady you before letting go to dig through his closet. He returned a second later to tug off your clothes and trade them out for one of his tshirts and a pair of his sweatpants (much to your dismay, as you’d been hoping for more to happen when he began undressing you).

Theo helped you into bed, pulling up the covers around you. He climbed into his bed behind you and wrapped both arms around your waist, burying his face into the curve of your neck. It would’ve been a sweet gesture, if his grip wasn’t painfully tight and possessive.

He stroked your hipbone with his thumb and pressed a kiss to the back of your neck. “Now go to sleep, tesoro.”

“M’kay,” you yawned. “G’night, Teddybear.”

“Goodnight, my pretty idiot.”

#harry potter #hp #fuck jkr #x reader #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #hp x gn reader #hp x male reader #x male reader #theo nott #yandere theodore nott #theodore nott smut #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x male reader #x gn reader #gn reader #x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader

[juanarc-thethird]

Dr. Arc #3

Jaune: *To de camera* A few days ago it was my birthday and my grandmother gave me one of her delicious pies, just for me. I brought my last piece here to eat with my lunch. But to make sure no one took it, I put it all the way to the back in the refrigerator and with several notes saying "Do not touch" and "Property of Dr. Arc."

---------

Jaune is placing his pie all the way in the back of the fridge and then starts putting everything else back inside.

---------

Jaune: There's no way anyone would eat it.

---------

Lunch time

Ren: Hey Jaune, today we're all going to eat outside in the garden. The weather is good today.

Jaune: Ok, I'll just finish some paperwork and catch up to you guys.

Ren: Sounds good. *leaves*

The camera shows how Jaune continues working but in the distance, through one of the clinic windows, you can see Ozpin checking the staff refrigerator.

---------

The scene changed with Jaune filing the papers in his file cabinet.

Jaune: Well, I'm done. Now it's time to eat my pie~

The camera follows him to the refrigerator. He starts taking things out, and when he gets to the end he freezes in place.

---------

Ozpin's Office

The camera shows Ozpin at his desk working on some papers.

Ozpin: *Drinking Coffe*

*Ting!*

Suddenly the camera changes direction to the elevator doors and Glynda appears.

Glynda: Ozpin, we have a problem.

---------

Staff room

The camera shows everyone scared as Jaune holds Yang hostage using a syringe.

Jaune: Ok motherfuckers! Who the hell ate my pie?!! Tell me now, or the girl gets it!

Yang: *Blushing* Oh god~💕 You are so strong~💕

Weiss: *Worry* Jaune, please calm down. We can talk about this in a civilized manner, let Yang go..

Yang: *Angry* Hey, don't ruin this to me. Don't listen to her, Jaune. Don't even think about letting me go from your strong arms~💕

Weiss: Yang, you're not helping!

Yang: You're jealous because he didn't choose you as a hostage.

Weiss: *Angry blushing* I'm not!!

Ozpin: What's going on here?!

The camera changes to Ozpin, with Glynda behind him. Everyone turns to see him.

Ozpin: Dr. Arc, what do you think you are doing? Let Professor Xiao Long go.

Jaune: No! Someone ate my pie and they don't tell me who it was. And I won't let her go until they tell me who it was.

Yang: Yes please~💕

Ozpin: Wait, are you perhaps talking about a lemon pie with chocolate chips?

Jaune: Yes, how do you know? It was wrapped in aluminum

Ozpin: Oh, I think I'm to blame in all this.

Jaune: Huh?

Ozpin: I'm very sorry Dr. Arc, but it seems that I ate your pie by mistake.

Jaune: But it had my name!

Ozpin: And I'm sorry, I didn't think it was that important to you.

Jaune: *Shock* You ate it all?

Ozpin: Not completely, it was too sweet for me. I threw the rest in the trash.

Jaune: *Surprise* You threw it in the trash?!

Ozpin: I hope you can forgive me.

Jaune: *Let Yang go* You know what, don't worry about it. Mistakes happen all the time, right.

Ozpin: Oh I'm glad to hear that. Well, with this resolved. Let's all go back to work, okay?

Ozpin turns around if he leaves, with Glynda following behind him. The camera then focuses on Jaune, who doesn't look away from Ozpin without blinking. It's kind of intimidating.

---------

Ozpin's office

Ozpin is looking out of his window at the scenery of the school and city. He holds up his cup of coffee and takes a sip.

*ting!*

Ozpin: hm?

The camera shows the elevator door to his office open with Jaune stepping out of it.

Ozpin: Dr. Arc, I was not expecting your visit. How can I help you??

Jaune: I came to give you my two weeks' notice.

He puts his letter on his desk and leaves. Ozpin takes the letter and begins to open it without looking away from Jaune.

Ozpin: Is it because I ate your pie? Please Dr. Arc, it was just an…

At that moment he reads the letter and it says:

"I will attack in two weeks."

Ozpin: ..Accident

He looks back at Jaune, and as the elevator doors close he can see an evil smile spread across his face. Then Jaune moves his lips without making any noise saying "two weeks." Ozpin starts to break out in a cold sweat.

Ozpin: I think I made a huge mistake.

#Dr. Arc Au #jaune arc #jaune #rwby jaune #rwby jaune arc #rwby ozpin #professor ozpin #yang xiao long #rwby yang xiao long #rwby weiss schnee #weiss schnee #lie ren #rwby lie ren #ren #rwby ren #weiss #rwby weiss #yang #rwby yang #rwby #rwby shitpost

[bad-and-drawn-that-way]

First of all, very in love with the digital reader fic you put out <3

But since reader expressed not knowing why they were in hell I just couldn't help myself from thinking about this-

Reader: I don't even know why I'm here, the hell did I ever do?

Lucifer: Didn't you crash over half of all the systems on earth when you were alive?

Reader: That was an accident! I was only trying to crash like...ten!

Just a goofy thought that popped into my head- destructive characters that are chaotic on accident my beloved lmao-

Kisses darling <3

-📽

Sweet silly little Lucifer with his ducks. I feel like everyone thinks he's completely aware of everything happening in Hell at all times. Meanwhile, he's just making ducks and missing his daughter and can't remember the last time he ate.

Digital Pet [Vox x Reader, but this is a Lucifer interaction]

What Do You Mean You Don't Know

You'd been surfing through the digital plane like any other day. Vox had his schedule completely full, so you were on your own the pass the time. You hopped between windows that led into various devices all around Hell.

It was hard to tell where you were most of the time, but a part of you was convinced that you could slip into the devices of demons outside the Pride Ring. You'd once seen hellhounds and succubi at a party when you'd peeked into a large screen behind a DJ on stage. The large venue was covered in honeycombs and you saw some sort of lava lamp-looking furry doing shots in the middle of the energized crowd. While the aesthetic was similar enough to what you'd seen in the sinner's little slice of Hell, it felt... different.

It was precious information you decided to hold close to your chest. Maybe you'd tell Vox one day but from everything you'd seen about his power-hungry reputation, you decided it may be best not to play your card too soon. For all you know, it was just an exclusive club with different vibes. It wasn't unheard of for demons from the other rings to come to the clubs in Pride.

You were floating through an endless hall of screens and lights, looking between the different windows into the world you couldn't hope to touch when you saw a face that made you double-take.

"Is that..." You float back and gasp as you get a closer look that confirms your suspicions. "Oh, you motherfucker!"

Lucifer let out a startled yelp, dropping the duck he'd been painting as he fell out of his chair. He'd just been minding his own business, listening to some light jazz while he made duckie replicas of his daughter and all her little friends at the hotel when a loud voice suddenly blasted over the music on his laptop.

He frowned as he looked down and saw his white pants splatted with the fresh red paint of Alastor's duck. He was on his ninth attempt at replicating the cocky jerk and had finally been on the verge of getting his stupid grin right when you startled him.

"Oh great," Lucifer grumbled as he pulled himself off of the ground. "It's already bad enough I have a growing pile of ducks dedicated to this prick, now he's ruining my clothes too."

Lucifer leaned over his desk, trying to see what sort of pop-up advertisement or virus had gotten on his system when he suddenly saw you watching him with crossed arms. Your small form glared at him from where you sat atop of his video player.

"A sinner...?" Lucifer blinked slowly before looking at you in awe. He could see your soul and recognized you as a person immediately. "What on Earth are you doing in there?"

"You tell me!" you point at him angrily. "You're the guy in charge of this shit, aren't you? What did I ever do to you?! I didn't do anything to deserve a worse Hell than everyone else."

"How should I know?" Lucifer squawked as he threw up his arms in defense... "I haven't gone outside in... wait, what day is it?"

"How do you not know?" You ask, the two of you amping each other up in your confusion. "You're Lucifer! This is literally your entire thing!"

"Uh, excuse you," Lucifer tsked as he placed a hand on his chest. "I'll have you know I am a man of ducks and dadness. Not keeping track of every soul that drops into Hell. Do you have any idea just how many of you die a day? A lot. Too many. Just. Please get better at staying alive, I beg you."

You deadpan at him before shaking your head with a sigh. "Well, do you at least know how to get me out of the digital plane? I'd like to actually eat food or let my feet touch the ground o-or sleep in a bed!"

"Uhh," Lucifer laughed nervously. "Yeaaaah, no. Nope. Sorry uh, no. Technology isn't something I really know anything about. I'd love to help but uh, yeah... no."

You groan, obviously disappointed in his answer as you flop over to the side and let your frustration win in the moment. You run a hand down your face and look up at the great devil of Hell with a sigh.

"Do you at least have any idea why I'm in Hell and not Heaven?"

Lucifer hummed, squinting at you as he ran a history check on your soul. It took a lot longer to find a reason than he expected, but then he finally landed on it.

"Ah, there it is," he muttered. "Looks like you ate the last slice of birthday cake in the fridge back in your college days."

Your jaw drops, for a couple of reasons. The top reason should have been that such a little thing damned your soul for eternity. However, your priorities were a bit skewed. Which became transparently obvious as you exclaimed, "Excuse me?! It was MY birthday cake!"

"Yeah, but they called dibs," Lucifer shook his head with a sigh. "Heaven takes dibs very seriously. And as you should know by now, I don't make the rules."

The powerful demon grumbled like a child as you recovered from the absolute bullshit that was your afterlife. It wasn't until you'd sat back up that you looked past Lucifer and finally noticed his room.

"Why the fuck are there so many ducks?"

#hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x reader #i guess?? #vox x reader #digital pet

[analogwriting]

Beer Pong

Killer x gn!reader word count: 3.3k a/n: this idea came to me while i was obliterated and playing beer pong. the only thing i could think of was how much i wanted killer to rail me. also disclaimer, i'm actually ASS at beer pong lmfao. also also, only one version of this one bc it doesn't quite go that far whoops

“C’mon! Who else wants to challenge the undefeated champ of beer pong?” Your voice was loud enough for people to hear over the thumping music of the party that you and your brother were hosting. 

It was the same every year. The two of you would host an end of the year party and invite all of your friends, have them invite their friends who invited their friends and so on. It was one of the biggest parties of the year every year. It’s been a tradition at this point for about five or six years.

“I think you’ve officially defeated everyone, Bigs.” Your younger brother, Kid, chimed as he walked into the room you were in. This was also the same every year. Those who have been to the parties before knew how ruthless you were at beer pong. Some of them never tried challenging you again, some would practice throughout the year just to take you on again. Newcomers also challenged you. However, no one was able to beat you for the past three years.

You huffed, folding your arms. “That’s so lame!” How much you drank didn’t affect your ability to win either. You were somewhat sloshed and still crushing everyone at the party.

“I’ll challenge them,” you heard a deep voice come from behind you. The room you were in had several different entrances. You looked behind you, seeing the finest piece of man you’ve ever laid your eyes upon. Motherfucker took your breath away - almost. You blinked.

“Killer! You made it!” You turned, seeing your brother walking over to him to greet him. You watched in confusion for a moment. The hell kind of name was that? 

“Bigs, this is Killer, he’s one of the new teachers for one of my mechanics classes.” You blinked, nodding at him, still stunned by how unbelievably hot he was. 

“Killer, this is my older sibling, y/n.” Killer offered a small wave with a lazy smile that made your heart skip a beat and your body warm up. “‘S a pleasure. Heard a lot about you.”

You glared at your brother for a moment who shot his hands up in defense. “All good things, I promise.”

“Bullshit.”

He cackled, putting his hands back down. “You’re right.”

You felt your eye twitch, but you kept yourself in check. You looked to Killer. “You said you wanted to take on the challenge?” you mused, a devious glint in your eye as a grin spread across your face. You were going to absolutely obliterate him.

Killer matched your grin. “Absolutely. I’ve heard about your skills, so I figured I’d test the waters. I play a lot myself, actually.” He shrugged.

Kid spoke up. “They’re undefeated, so I’d proceed with caution.” Without looking away from you, Killer nodded. “No need. I think it’ll be fine.”

Now, who the hell did he think he was? He really had that much confidence that he thought he was going to beat you? Genuinely? You narrowed your eyes at him. You weren’t going to admit it, but his cockiness was insanely hot. Too bad you were about to humble the shit out of him. Nothing excited you more than being able to crush the dreams of the hopeful.

“Then take your place at the other side of the table.” You gestured.

He did as instructed and the game began. You started off strong, immediately sinking the first one. He tossed his ball and it bounced off one of them. “Oo, too bad. Sure it’s just a warm up, right?” you mused, grinning.

He just shrugged, sharing your grin. He didn’t seem to be worried at all in the slightest. 

You decided to give him a fair shot, purposefully missing some to keep the game going. Some of his that spun around the inside of the cup, you could’ve pulled in time but you let sink. 

“Stop doing that,” Killer said, folding his arms and narrowing his eyes at you as you missed another shot.

“Doing what?” You blinked. There was no way he caught on that easily. He’d never seen you play before, so how the hell would he know?

“You know what you’re doing.” You narrowed your eyes at him, putting a hand on your hip. “If that’s the way you want to be - fine. Don’t cry when I obliterate you.” You were pissed now. Who the hell did he think he was?

It wasn’t long before you knocked out most of his cups and he’d only gotten one or two of yours. He was about to toss when he paused. “What do I get if I win?” he asked, a mischievous look in his eyes.

You blinked, looking at the table. There was no way in hell this man was winning. It’d be a miracle. “If you somehow manage to make it back and win - I’ll give you the best head you’ve ever had,” you snorted, rolling your eyes. 

“I could’ve went my whole life without hearing that,” Kid chimed from the sidelines, making a face. You just looked at him. “Sorry not sorry. Maybe you shouldn’t be in here with the grown ups then.”

“You’re only four years older than me, Bigs, so shut up.” You both were in your twenties, but it was your duty as the older sibling to always hang it above his head that you were, in fact, older.

You just snorted, rolling your eyes before you heard a ball sink into one of your cups. You blinked, looking to Killer across the table. Lucky shot. “You should be focused on me,” he said, a glint of something wild in his eyes. It made your heart race with excitement. “You want head that bad?”

“Okay, I’m out.” Kid threw his hands up, heading out of the room and you just laughed, but you didn’t take your eyes off the man across the table from you.

Killer just shrugged, the corner of his mouth curling a bit. “Maybe.” You didn’t know what he was playing, but it excited you.

Honestly, you weren’t sure how it happened, but next thing you knew, you both only had one cup left. He had been able to distract you during your throws to make you miss, pulled out your ball as it spun in the cup, and sink every single one of his ping pong balls into the cups. People had started gathering, watching as you desperately tried to save face. You had no idea what was going on. You’d never been smoked like this before.

“Were you fucking toying with me this whole time?” you said, feeling your eye twitch as you glared at the man before you. He just grinned, shrugging. “I did say that I play too.”

With that, he sank his ball into your cup. This was your last chance - redemption. If you made it into his cup, you’d be safe and the both of you would go another round. You took a deep breath, not looking at him. You knew if you did, you’d fuck up and end up missing your shot.

You went to throw but heard him make a noise, drawing your attention to him. He looked at you, winking and licking his lips right as you threw the ball. As you predicted, you fucking missed, costing you the game. The room was silent for a moment, distant conversations heard in others rooms and music thumping.

Then it erupted into cheers. “That was the greatest game I’ve ever watched!”

“Holy shit, I can’t believe they lost!”

“Finally! Someone who was able to knock them down a peg!”

“Was kind of hoping they would win. It’s weird having a different reigning champ now.”

The conversations and cheers blurred together as you just stared at the cup across from you. You couldn’t fucking believe you just lost. Three years and you’ve never lost. Not once. Ever since you started playing, you were just fucking good at it. And now that was all over.

You didn’t even process that Killer had moved from his spot until you felt someone hoist you over their shoulder. You were yanked back into reality as you were lifted into the air. “What the hell?!” You noticed that it was Killer who had tossed you over his shoulder.

“I believe someone owes me ‘the best head I’ve ever had’,” he mused as he started carrying you towards the staircase that led to the bedrooms upstairs. This motherfucker had been planning this all along and you couldn’t believe you fell for it - hook, line, and sinker. Fuck.

Dammit. You just had to say that, didn’t you? You grumbled. As you were carried, various people whistled and cheered. “Yeah! Get it, newbie!”

“Gotta pay up, y/n!” 

“Taking your spoils from victory, huh?” 

You covered your face with your hands, feeling your entire body heat up with embarrassment. You couldn’t fucking believe this. And now everyone knew what was going to happen next and you couldn’t function. You just had to open your big mouth. God, you were never living this down. This was like the walk of shame only before the shag not after.

You heard him enter a room and close the door before setting you down gently. You still had your face hidden, unable to look at him.

“Y/n?” You were silent, not wanting to say anything. You were beyond embarrassed at this point. You felt his hands on yours, trying to pull your hands away. You kept them firm against your face and you heard him sigh, his breath dancing across your skin.

“Y/n, I’m not going to make you do anything. That was all for show.”

“Bullshit.” You finally removed your hands from your face, narrowing your eyes at him. “I’m sure you want nothing more than to put the mouthy brat in thei-” You stopped, noticing the concerned look on his face.

You blinked, processing. Oh, he was serious. You shook your head, pulling your hands away and pushing him towards the bed.

“Nah, I keep my word. So, you best get ready for the best blow job you’ve ever had.” He stumbled, plopping onto the edge of the bed in surprise. It took him a moment to catch up before he snorted. “I mean, I’m not going to say no to a free blow job, but we’ll see if it’s the best.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. He was using your competitiveness against you and it was working. How the fuck did he already have you figured out? You know what? What the fuck ever. You were going to give him the time of his life and make him beg for more.

You dropped to your knees right before the bed and in between his legs. “You know just how to get under my skin,” you grumbled.

“It’s not hard.” 

You just stopped for a moment, hands on his pants. “I will absolutely rip your dick off.” He just stuck his hands up with a snort. “I fold. I’d like to keep my dick. Besides, how am I supposed to rail you otherwise?”

You blinked several times. Oh? “You think you’re gonna rail me, huh?” He just grinned and you narrowed your eyes. You didn’t know what fucking game he was playing but you were about to bite his entire dick off if he kept it up.

You made quick work of his pants, undoing the buttons and pulling him out. Your eyes widened slightly. Jesus fuck, he was huge. Possibly the biggest you’ve been with. That thing could tear you in half probably. You could feel your own body heat up, it only made you more excited.

With as hard as he was, you were sure he’s been hard for a while now. “Beer pong your version of foreplay?” you mused, pressing a kiss to the base of his cock. He let out a hiss through his teeth, leaning back on his hands. “Not really,” he ground out. If these minimal touches were enough to make him act like that, you weren’t sure he was going to last long at all.

You began to slide your hand up and down the length of his cock, earning a small groan from him. “Not really? Then what was it then?” A smug smile spread across your face as you dragged your palm over his tip before running your hand back down again. You could already see his chest heaving. He was already struggling.

“Probably something to do with the really cute hot head across from me,” he ground out. You gasped as he called you a ‘hot head’, squeezing the base of his cock, causing him to growl slightly as he tilted his head back. Oh, you liked that noise.

“A hot head, huh?” Was he wrong? No, but you weren’t about to let him just call you that. You let go of him, standing up. “I believe I told you to stop playing these games, Killer,” you mused, turning and acting like you were about to leave when you felt him grab your wrist, pulling you into his lap.

You gasped, feeling your face set ablaze. His lips pressed against your neck as your back pressed against his chest. You went to pull away but his arms wrapped around your middle, pulling you in close. “Don’t be like that,” he cooed against you. You felt a shiver down your spine, your heart about to jump out of his chest. “I won’t do it again, I promise.” You had a small feeling he knew exactly what game you were playing, but he was going along with it. Probably seeing if you’d stick to your bit.

You swallowed hard, trying to keep yourself in check and trying to keep your attitude the same. You cleared your throat. “F-Fine.” You were trying hard to keep yourself together and not fling yourself at him.

“I’ll let it slide. This is your last chance.” You were fighting to keep your breathing even as you felt him smile against your skin. God fucking dammit. He was impossible.

You pulled away from him again and he let you go this time as you dropped between his knees once more. Your face felt like it was on fire as you suddenly wondered if you reacted exactly how he had planned. Was he some evil mastermind? No, it wasn’t that.

Jesus fuck could your mind just shut up. It wasn’t that deep.

You took his cock in your hand once more, feeling it twitch with excitement. You looked up as he licked his lips, watching you. Again, your face felt like it was on fire under his intense stare but you shrugged it off, pressing your lips to the tip. You felt his body shift as he leaned back on his hands once more, slowly melting as you began to run your tongue down the side of his shaft.

One of his hands found its way into your hair, tugging at it slightly as you began to slide the entirety of his cock into your mouth. The deeper you took him - the harder he pulled, making you moan around him. The sudden vibration caused him to buck his hips, shoving himself down your throat rather suddenly. 

Luckily for you, you didn’t really have a gag reflex, so you mostly just widened your eyes in surprise as you suddenly felt your throat stretch and your nose press against him. Fuck, you could probably reach your own climax just from giving him a blow job at this rate.

You slowly pulled off of him, making him groan lowly. You quickly found a rhythm and pace, beginning to bob your head and work his cock like the pro you were. This wasn’t your first rodeo sucking dick, but it surely was the biggest.

You just prayed you didn’t end up with lockjaw due to his size. That would be a nightmare; not to mention you’d die of embarrassment.

It wasn’t long before you felt Killer begin to roll his hips, pressing him further down your throat each time. “Fuck,” he breathed, panting heavily at this point. Honestly, he was lasting longer than you thought he would. You thought he would’ve finished the first time you shoved him down your throat, but he was still going.

With how much he was twitching and throbbing, you knew he didn’t have much longer anymore.

The hand in your hair suddenly grabbed you a bit rougher, keeping you in place slightly. Your eyes widened as you knew exactly what he was going to do next, so you relaxed your jaw and gripped his thighs as you braced yourself. His hips started thrusting much rougher now as he fucked the shit out of your throat. 

You definitely were gonna feel that in the morning. Not that you cared because honestly, this was the best time you’ve had in a while. Shit, you might have to keep him around.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you felt your own body heating up more and more. A coil was forming in your stomach, tightening with each thrust as you held onto his hips for dear life. Were you really going to finish just from this?

Part of you hoped that he wouldn’t be tapped out after this so you could keep going.

The man’s hips suddenly stopped as he shoved himself deep down your throat, releasing fully inside of you. It was enough to send you over the edge, moaning against him as you came yourself, making a mess of the pants you were wearing. Fuck.

Killer slowly pulled out of you, you carefully making sure you swallowed every bit of semen that he gave you as he did so. Once he was pulled out, you gasped for air. Both of you were panting; your head spinning rapidly, your body buzzing. Fuck, you hadn’t felt this good in a long time.

You felt him pull you up, kissing you hard and sloppy. Instantly, you wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him back, and moaned into him. 

After a few minutes of a hard make out session, he pulled away from you. Both of you were still panting, but a little less so than before. “You still have it in you to keep going?”

You looked at him with surprise, but excitement. You had hoped he’d have enough juice to keep going. “Mm, maybe. How’d I do? Best you’ve ever had?”

“Gonna have to start calling you Sloppenheimer with how bomb that head was.”

You stopped, looking at him with an unreadable expression. Then you stood up, throwing your hands up. “Okay, I’m out.” Just as your brother had done earlier.

Killer laughed. “Wait, no!” 

“No! Absolutely not! I can’t believe you said that!” You felt as he grabbed you around the waist pulling you back into bed. “That’s the dorkiest and dumbest thing I’ve ever heard!” you shrieked as he pinned you beneath him. You pouted up at him.

“You’re right. You’re right. I’m sorry. Should’ve saved that line for later.” He grinned, looking down at you. “You actually should never had said it because that was so lame.”

He just smiled at you. “You win. That was the best head I’ve ever had. Gonna have to keep you around,” he mused. You rolled your eyes.

“Oh, shut up and just fuck me already.” 

Killer just grinned, kissing you hard. You knew you were going to be in for a long night. And he was right, you were probably gonna have to keep him around.

#please enjoy my sloppenheimer line bc i think that is so fucking funny #also im like half asleep and also not sober once again so hopefully this ends up being okay lmfao #it's the only thing that's occupied my skull the last since the party #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x you #massacre soldier killer #killer x reader #killer #killer one piece #am fics #beer pong #smut fics #also i will forever have kid call reader 'bigs' whenever they're siblings bc he's forever a little brother bc thats the energy he gives off

[jjkeverlast]

hold me tight | jjk

-> pairing vampire!jk x human!reader

-> genre supernatural au, pwp

-> summary you've pleaded for as long as you remember and jungkook finally gives in.

-> word count 1.4k

-> warnings swearing, oral (m. receiving), mentions of blood, vampire bite, biting kink (sorta), switch!reader, switch!jk, open ending (?)

-> author's note um... so i was supposed to be on a clear hiatus from writing but this motherfucker decided to post a teaser and wreck us all. so this is dedicated to everyone who is delulu for some vampire!koo. @yoongukie-ff this is especially dedicated to you my love <3 i should say... this is my first time writing anything that is supernatural so bare with me. i'm pretty new at this. or else i hope you enjoy! <3333

‘’Please?’’ Jungkook’s red eyes slowly close as he exhales, standing now further away from you. You both know the consequences from him biting into you. But you desperately want it. Feel the pain from his fangs sinking deep into your neck, as you clutch yourself tight onto him, hearing him moan in pleasure of tasting you. 

‘’You know what will happen if I do.’’ 

‘’I do.’’ You move closer again, tracing your fingers onto his white collar as his mouth opens slightly, giving you a glimpse of what awaits you. At this point you’ll do anything for him to just bite you. 

‘’I’ll do anything, Jeon.’’ Jungkook lowly grunts as the nickname slips from your lips, restraining himself from you. Your touch, your scent and mostly the soft skin that is extremely tempting for his eyes. 

You have no idea how much you actually affect him. He’s been punishing himself behind closed doors from the ungodly thoughts of you. How you’d sound as he fucks you or how badly you choke with your mouth filled with his cock as he grips your hair, guiding himself as you take him so well. 

‘’Jungkook.’’ Your breath fans across his cheek, as he leans in closer to inhale your sweet scent, that has reached closer to him. It almost makes him dizzy and needy. Needy to the point he’ll do it with no warning, which you’d gladly accept although—

‘’Anything?’’ You blink in surprise, a smirk pulling itself forward as he doesn’t move an inch from your close presence. 

‘’Anything.’’ You confirm, Jungkook’s eyes grow a darker color of red before he roughly kisses you. You whimper against his mouth, your tongue poking the fangs as you let your tongues glide against each other in hunger and need. 

You’ve always wanted to kiss Jungkook, feel him in other ways but he’d never let you. Always warned you from him and what he was capable of, in this case, turning you. 

But now, he’s done holding himself back. You’ve pleaded for too long and the wait was finally over. He’ll give you what you want, if you’re being good to him. 

Jungkook loosens his grip on your form, retrieving to lock eyes with you. 

He traces his thumb over your bottom lip, feeling the softness and his cock throbs as he pictures them wrapped around it.

‘’Fuck, I love your lips.’’ You’re extremely turned on after the grasp Jungkook had around you, wanting to do more than just have him bite you. You want to feel him, every part of him before he turns you. 

His thumb feels cold against your lips but you want to give him a taste of something different. So you do, wrapping your lips over his thumb, covering it. You hadn’t expected for Jungkook to gasp from the contact but he does, so softly yet with want.  

‘’I need you.’’ He’s honest, letting himself go in hopes of you reciprocating his need and giving yourself to him. 

You let go of this thumb, dropping down on both knees slowly as he watches you. He’s not stopping you, so you continue. Tracing your palms against his leather jeans that fit so tightly, showcasing his firm thighs beneath it. He’s so fucking attractive that it’s wrecking your insides fully. 

You feel this is a dream. You, on your knees for him as he awaits your mouth on his cock with pleading eyes and mouth parted in anticipation. You don’t exactly know how long you’ve been imagining such a scenario but Jungkook has always been on your mind. You’ve always wanted him and what he hides beneath all of his clothes. 

With enough strength from you, you pull his pants and briefs, his cock springing itself free. He’s so fucking hard, your hand coming up to stroke him gently. Your palm doesn’t mind the cold but rather enjoys the softness he’s carrying. 

‘’Ah fuck.’’ You’ve barely touched him and he’s already grunting from your hand wrapped around it. 

You pick up the pace, moving closer so your mouth can reach his tip, glistening with pre-cum. It amazes you how worked up he’s gotten over you. 

‘’Be good, don’t tease.’’ It’s a warning telling you  if you aren’t good you won’t get bitten. So you avoid teasing him for longer, wrapping your lips and closing the awaiting contact between you. The taste of the pre-cum sets itself on your tongue as you swirl it around, lapping it up with no mercy. 

Your hand keeps itself wrapped, your lips following soon after, taking more of him as you bop your head back and forth slowly to get used to his size. 

You barely notice the cold from Jungkook’s part, continuing your ministrations on him like this will be your only chance of having him like this. 

The first moan Jungkook slips is unforgettable, sounding so angelic despite him being dangerous. Looking up, his eyes are hardly visible except for his mouth that’s hung open in pleasure, grunts escaping them almost as if it’s an encouragement for you to keep going. 

You’d love to have Jungkook like this again, fucked out of it because of your mouth and letting himself be controlled by you. 

You can feel yourself getting wet by the thought, moaning against Jungkook’s soft skin as your mouth has fully covered his cock. 

‘’Fuck—’’ Jungkook bites his lip, the fangs poking at his bottom lip. The sight itself is something you’ll find yourself thinking back to whenever you can. The situation is filthy itself, both of you next to his wooden desk in his office. 

Jungkook catches you off guard when his hand pulls your hair tight, re-gaining the control he suddenly lost, too captivated by the warmth from you. 

He guides your head, adding a bit of strength as you soon follow his want. You don’t care that you choke on his cock repeatedly as he fucks your mouth with no restraint. You don’t care because you want to be good, you want to earn. You want to earn the bite he’ll give you. It’s almost like a reward, a reward for you being patient, warm and soft. 

Tears are forming around the corner of your eyes, your mouth stuffed fully with Jungkook’s cock as he keeps letting his tip hit the back of your throat. 

It’s not until you feel a slight twitch and Jungkook’s panting changes pace, that you know he’s close. 

‘’You’re so warm— mmm, so willing.’’ Jungkook grunts deeply, his hold tightening against your scalp as he comes undone, awarding you with his cum — for now. 

You don’t move after you swallow, the salty aftertaste becoming more prominent with time. Jungkook finally opens his eyes, the darker red still visible and his fangs more sharp than earlier. 

‘’Come here.’’ He grabs you by the nape of the neck, so you face him again, his breath fanning over your mouth. He lets his breath become swallowed, tasting your lips once again. You’re so delicate when you kiss, yet the opposite when you’re sucking him off. 

He would love to keep kissing you, but he needs to keep his promise. 

‘’I’m ready.’’ You whisper against his lips that are plumb and rosy red after being kissed and used by your own. He looks flushed, his skin cold although he’s vibrating a certain warmth towards you.

“You’re so soft, so delicate.” His fingers trace towards the area he’ll bite and goosebumps arise from the cold touch of his fingertips against your neck. He’s dragging it out, you think to yourself and he seems to enjoy seeing you plead so much you’re willing to give him another round if he’s to ask. 

With an instant movement, Jungkook’s fangs dig into your neck, the pain unbearable as you lightly scream. Fuck, it hurts. Badly. 

He keeps them there, continuously sucking the blood that becomes apparent with time. Fuck you taste so sweet, just as he had expected. He would’ve tasted you for eternity. If that were possible. He moans against your neck as you clutch yourself to his built arms and shoulders. 

The pain soothes out, becoming more pleasurable and you feel yourself grow lustful. Your fingers run through his hair as you begin to moan in satisfaction over the bite. 

“This— this feels amazing.” You’re breathless, fingers now digging into his scalp as the pressure increases from Jungkook’s fangs. 

You don’t notice how it’s already over, your mind fogged and clouded with every emotion possible. You’re not weak, you feel… powerful. 

“I could taste you for hours.” Jungkook’s lips are covered in your blood, eyes fully red as he pants. 

You feel Jungkook’s skin burn against your fingers suddenly, his cheeks turning red and he simply… smiles at you. 

“I’m yours. Always and forever.” Jungkook re-attaches his lips to your neck, sucking off the rest of your blood soothingly.

“You’re mine.” He mumbles against your skin. 

perma taglist;

@gimmethatagustd @sugarwithtea @lvoekook @yoongukie-ff @haliiimede @sxtaep @allorareverz @kookstempo @highly-functioning-mitochondria @here4btsfics @pjiminbloomx @shimisushi @jeonqkooks @saweetspoiled @llashn @chaoticabstractism @ruinsofangels @pamzn @hollyweird0 @thvhoe @whoa-jo @ellesalazar @dunixxd @aliceisabelx @dahlia1w @bloodline1632 @copycat-namjesus @vsnnstuff <3

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© jjkeverlast 2022 [do not copy, translate or repost any of my works.]

#jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #bts jungkook smut #jungkook #jeon jungkook fanfic #bts fan fiction #bts fan fic #bts jungkook fic #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #bts jeon jungkook

[evilwickedme]

"you're worth it." and/or "you need sleep for jayroy maybe?

(i can't remember if you actually like that ship so if you don't feel free to pick your own)

I absolutely LOVE JayRoy and have written multiple fics for them anyway it's one am let's see what comes out

on ao3

unglued, thanks to you

It's been a long couple of days.

Everyone Roy knows is out of the state right now, for so many different and yet equally good reasons, so he hasn't had anyone available to babysit in days. Then Lian caught this bug that's been going around, and she's spent the last three days throwing up anything she's eaten, while Roy desperately tries to keep her hydrated, staying up all night with her as she shivers. His heart aches for his little girl, but he can't do anything about it except wait for it to pass. As if that stress wasn't enough, he hasn't had a steady job in a couple of months, and last he checked he was almost out of money for rent, let alone groceries or medicine or a paid sitter. And he can't even take any job offers he's getting, because he can't just leave Lian behind while half his family is MIA, some of them literally. Hell, he'd have joined them in the search if it weren't for... Everything else.

He's worried about his family, and he's worried about Lian, and he's just tired. He's so, so tired. Still, he can't help it - when Jason calls, he picks up.

"Hey," he says.

Jason must pick up on the exhaustion in his voice, because instead of hello he opens with, "Jesus Christ, when's the last time you slept?"

Roy takes offense to that. Considering the circumstances, he's been getting plenty of sleep. "I'll have you know I got to take a two hour nap just this afternoon," he says indignantly.

"Uh-huh," Jason says, "and last night?"

"Why are you calling, Jason?" Roy says tiredly.

"I'm in Star right now," Jason answers, letting the matter drop. "Connecting flight got canceled so I pivoted. Can I crash at yours?"

Roy hesitates. "It's not that you're not welcome," Roy says, searching for the right words. "I just - " it's just awful right now, and Roy's a mess, and the apartment's a mess, and Jason probably doesn't want to deal with a sick first grader anyway. "Listen, the place is kind of a mess right now, you'd probably be better off just finding a hotel to stay at. Use Bruce's money to stay at somewhere fancy. You'd sleep better, trust me."

Jason hums to himself, like he does sometimes when he's thinking. "How's Lian, Roy?"

Roy closes his eyes. "She's down for a nap right now," he says, then admits, "but she's been sick all week."

"And hasn't Oliver been able to help? Or any of your goddamn brood?"

Like Jason has any room to talk, with all these Bats flying around nowadays. When Roy was a kid, it was just Bruce and Dick, and eventually Babs. Now every time Roy blinks, there's a new kid wearing the bat on their chest. "They're all out of town at the moment."

Jason just sighs. "I'll be there in fifteen minutes," he says, then hangs up.

Motherfucker.

Well, Jason knows what he's getting himself into.

~~~

True to his word, a quarter of an hour later Roy hears Jason's spare keys unlock his front door. "In here," he calls out from the kitchen, where he's washing some long overdue dishes. Once it was clear that Jason would be staying with them no matter what, Roy did the minor service of taking all the disgusting shit off the couch.

"Hey," Jason says, dropping his bag, which clattered conspicuously. "I thought you said Lian was napping?"

"She's out like a light, actually," Roy says. "I'm hoping she'll actually sleep through the night tonight. Would make for a nice change."

Jason stays silent for a while, and the back of Roy's head prickles, but he keeps washing the dishes until, suddenly, Jason's hand is on his arm, startling him into stillness.

"C'mon," Jason says. "I can do this."

"They're my dishes," Roy objects.

"You need sleep," Jason says. "Your kid's sick, I get it. But I can keep an eye on her for a few hours. Go, get some rest. If only so I don't have to look at those fucking bags under your eyes. You look terrible."

"Jay," Roy sighs.

"I'll fucking carry you to bed if I have to," Jason threatens mildly.

Roy looks at him, then looks back at the running water, then shoots a longing look at the door to his bedroom. He really does want - need, desperately need - some rest. And Lian likes Jason. And Roy really, really doesn't want to be doing the dishes right now.

"Okay," he says. Then, after a pause, "Thank you, Jaybird."

"Anytime," Jason says gruffly. He hipchecks Roy, who relents, raising his hands in surrender and walking to his bedroom. "Seeya in six hours."

"Four," Roy counters.

"Eight," Jason corrects.

Roy rolls his eyes before closing his door. He sets his alarm for three hours, and falls asleep as soon as he closes his eyes.

~~~

Roy opens his eyes suddenly, momentarily disoriented. There's sunlight coming through the window - he's still in his jeans - he crashed last night - Jason came over last night - didn't he set an alarm?

Honestly, Roy wouldn't put it past Jay to sneak into his room and turn the alarm off, but maybe he just slept through it. Either way, it's too late now.

He feels so heavy, but still he forces himself to get up. He needs to check up on Lian, maybe clean up a little if she's still out, make some food out of whatever's still left in the pantry.

He's going over his to-do list in his mind as he steps out into the living room, and he does a double take.

The place is spotless. All the dishes are gone, the dirty clothes are in the laundry hamper by the laundry machine that stands close to the kitchen because there's no room for it in this tiny apartment else, and assorted electronics are piled up on the now clear surface of the little table they sometimes use to eat. The floor has been swept, too, with the dust bunnies Roy has become resigned to live with all cleared out.

There's no sign of Lian, but Jason is humming in the kitchen, so Roy joins him, leaning against the wall as he watches Jay slice vegetables that were definitely not in Roy's kitchen last night.

"You let me sleep in," Roy accuses.

Jason snorts. "Yeah, obviously. You needed the sleep, man. You probably haven't looked in the mirror in four days, but you looked miserable, trust me." He glances up at Roy, then back down to the cucumber under his knife. "You look, uh, much better now. Could probably use a shower."

"Fuck you," Roy says amicably. "Where's this come from?"

"I had some groceries delivered this morning," Jason answers casually. "I put the order in after I finished the dishes, then started cleaning up while I stayed up. Lian woke up eventually, so I made sure she got some fluids and gave her the meds on the counter - I'm assuming those were her meds, she was a little out of it and couldn't confirm it for me, but she seemed better after, so I figured, yeah."

"Yeah, those were the right meds," Roy says. "Thanks, again."

"Anytime," Jason says. He's now slicing a large red tomato. The juices spurt a little onto Jason's hand, who grimaces for a second before continuing.

"No, seriously," Roy says earnestly. "You were just looking for a place to crash. You didn't need to do any of this. I just - cleaning this place up must have taken you all night."

"Well," Jason says. "Consider it payback for all the times you saved my ass. And for letting me crash here."

Roy's heart pounds in his chest, and he looks around the kitchen. "Can I help?"

Jason waves at him dismissively. "I'm almost done here anyway," he says. "Go, wash up, or check on your daughter, or just sit down for five goddamn minutes."

Roy huffed, unable to stop himself from laughing. And then he did just that. Took a brisk shower, then checked up on Lian - sleeping again, and her bucket was empty, which was good - and then he rejoined Jason, just in time for him to hand him a plate, full to the brim with a cheese omelette, buttered toast, and a chopped salad.

"This looks amazing, Jaybird," Roy says honestly, and he could swear he sees Jason's ears turn a little red.

"Eat your damn breakfast," is all he says.

Roy puts the plate down on the table and takes Jason's hand. His eyes snap up to his face, and he looks - confused.

Roy rubs a thumb over Jason's palm. The texture is complicated, scarred and calloused, but he likes it. It's not unlike his own. "Thanks," Roy says again.

"You don't need to keep saying it," Jason says.

"Yeah, I do," Roy says. "And I'll keep saying it til you take me seriously."

"Yeah, well," Jason says. "You're worth it."

#whomp this took me about an hour and I'm actually pretty happy with this #heavily inspired by that one poisonivory fic. the 'you're tired. I'm here to let you be tired' one #jayroy #this my fic #dc fic #batfam #arrowfam #lian harper #roy and lian #roy harper #jason todd #jt #dc #gail speaks #callsign-crow #ask

[whirlybirbs]

"have a drink with me" w/ johnny soapy mactavish <3

                        ( ! beautiful gif from this set by @sgt-gaz )

;     —   liars den   |   johnny "soap" mactavish

summary: drinks and pining shared. pairing: johnny mactavish / gender neutral!reader, birdie tags: casual beers, yearning pining, and breaking the rulebook on fraternization, casual johnny family mention a/n: did you know this man is my little meow meow.

Your eyes settle momentarily on the scars across his knuckles as the good Sergeant tosses back his beer. 

You drag your gaze away as if scorched — and Johnny catches the flicker of your lashes as you lean forward, brace your elbows against the bartop, and cast your eyes to the tele above the bartender's shoulder playing the Liverpool-Manchester match. 

John swallows his swig roughly. 

You inhale, then exhale.

...You shouldn't be here.

A bead of condensation runs down your bottle's neck and rolls over your fingertips. 

This — this little off-the-clock wind-down? This is a bad idea. Because here, in this shitty Ranger bar, you're sat down beside him. Johnny motherfucking MacTavish. 

...Fuck.

He's a good man. Loves his mum. Calls home often. Has three sisters, all older. He's got a heart a' gold and a smile charming enough t' widdle down even the Lieutenant. 

Handsome t' boot. 

Kind.

Funny.

Everyone loves the bastard. 

And you have been trying your damndest to keep your distance. Miles worth. Thirty-thousand leagues worth. He's head-level, and you're choking up in the thinning atmosphere — and that's how it should be. 

But, fer fuck's sake — cut him some slack, would ye? He's tryin' here. Pullin' every damn string he can to get you on their comms. Yer th' best watcher they got, after all, with Laswell back state-side. He doesn't trust anyone else t' be his eyes. Only you. El-tee says he's got it bad.

Maybe he does.

Have a drink with me, he asked after the debrief. 

You realized a long time ago you couldn't say no to him — tonight is no exception.  

So, here you are. Hip to hip at the bar, shoulder to shoulder sipping beer that's just cold enough. 

"Y' look miffed."

You snort into your drink and slide your eyes away from the late-game goal replay. 

"That's just my face."

"Nah," he crosses his arms with the bottle still in his left hand, "Yer face's pretty. This face ain't."

You straighten slightly and inhale tightly. 

John's smirk twists a bit. "Relax, birdie."

You swig your beer and drop your head. "Heard from Alejandro lately?"

"Yer deflectin'."

You roll your look his way and flatten your stare. You're met with a satisfied smile that's tugging, tugging, tugging at his lips. The shadow of stubble there hides dimples. 

"I am not."

"Yes," he emphasizes as he uncrosses his arms and leans closer, "Y'are."

"I'm just askin'—"

"Are y' mad at me?"

You blink hard. 

John's face is expectant.

You realize your mouth is open. 

"...What?"

"You," he prods your shoulder gently with his pointer finger, then takes a sip, "'ave been avoidin' me like th' plague, birdie."

You fall quiet. 

You frown.

"...No, I haven't."

Johnny tuts. 

You wish you could just tell him. That you feel your entire chest tighten when he steps into debriefs. That he makes your job harder because you're always watching him and only him. That you have had dreams about touching his face, dreams where you kiss him and it's all starlight and peace and quiet—

"Mum always said lyin' is unbecomin'."

And despite it all, you muscle down the yearning and offer up your best smile.

"We're good. Promise."

His eyes settle on the dig of your smile in your cheeks. He drags his gaze away as if scorched. 

"Alright."

...Fuck.

#liars den #john mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish #johnny mactavish x you #john mactavish x you #soap mactavish x reader #soap mactavish imagine #MY LOOOVVVEEEYYY #mw2 imagine #mw2 x reader #mw2 fic #mw2

[of-a-chaotic-mind]

Curiosity Part 3 (Final)

Summary: Colby explains his situation to Reader and asks her to be his.

TW/CW: Mentions of murder, vampires, mentions of Reader being held at knifepoint, Mafia/Vampire!Colby Brock x Reader.

Requested?: No

A/N: I'm not gonna continue this series because after reading back through it, not only am I not 100% in love with it but I'm not sure how to continue it.

Part 1 || Part 2

(Y/N)’s POV

Staring at the floor under my feet, I attempt to wrap my head around the events that had just happened. In only a handful of minutes, I had been held at knifepoint, rescued by Colby, and then shocked when my attacker dropped dead at the sniper shot of Jake. I rake my hands through my hair before declaring, “I’m dreaming. I have to be fucking dreaming.” I look around at the silent bar. A few feet away, Colby, Jake, and Sam stand watching me. I bite the inside of my cheek as hard as I can but unfortunately, it hurts like a motherfucker and I am, in fact, not dreaming.

Colby and Sam look at Jake, fury plain as day on their faces. Jake shrugs, “Listen… indirectly it was either him or her because if I hadn’t shot him, he would’ve killed you and then her as well.”

Colby clenches his jaw, but Sam is the one who responds, “Not only did you out us to (Y/N) but now we probably will have a turf war on our hands before long.”

Colby locks eyes with me as Jake attempts to defend himself, “How are they gonna know it was us? Huh? No cameras, I checked beforehand.”

Not breaking eye contact, Colby holds his hand against Sam’s chest who attempts to launch himself at Jake exclaiming, “You etch your fucking signature symbol into your god dang bullets dumbass!”

Jake snaps his mouth shut before looking down at his feet, “Shit…”

Colby approaches me now, slowly as if he’s afraid he’ll scare me off, which he might, that’s yet to be determined. What am I saying? I definitely should be getting the hell out of here. I just witnessed a murder, not to mention the fucking zipping around in the blink of an eye means there’s definitely something off about these three. Yet, despite my better judgment I stay glued to my spot.

Colby stops right in front of me and once again makes my heart flutter as he lifts my chin with his thumb and pointer finger, “What are you thinking, Sweetheart?”

I swallow thickly before replying, “Honestly? I’m thinking I should get the hell out of here.”

“Then why don’t you?” Colby whispers, staring into my soul.

“I don’t know,” I admit, “A good mystery always has been my biggest weakness.”

He grins at this, “Where’s the mystery here?” He inquires, already knowing the answer.

I roll my eyes at him, “You’ve got to be shitting me,” I pull away from him and take a seat at the bar. Dropping my head into my hands, I tug at my hair still trying to make sense of the situation I’ve gotten myself into. “Let’s start with why the hell are there a bunch of people hanging out in this fuckin’ speakeasy out of a mafia movie? Or how about what the hell are you up tied with,” I accentuate my sentence by pointing at Colby, “that a strange creep in an alleyway knows and is afraid of you? Let’s not forget that your friend here shot the aforementioned creep and then in the blink of an eye I’m here which I happen to know is a good twenty-minute walk from that alley.”

Colby sighs, waving at Sam and Jake to leave before taking a seat beside me, “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Fucking try me because, at this point, I’ve lost all sense of reality,” I challenge.

Colby chuckles before finding my eyes once more, “Me and my friends are vampires but to everyone else in the city we’re just a mafia mob type organization. The man Jake shot tonight was part of Red Gang who is our biggest turf rival and you live smack dab in the middle of their turf.”

“Okay… so I might have fallen for the head of a vampire mob… got it,” I mumble to myself.

“You know being a vampire means I heard that right,” Colby states humorously causing my heart to jump, “I also heard that,” he laughs flicking his eyes to my chest and back to my eyes.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?” I question accusingly.

“And you’ll be the death of me,” he responds reaching up to brush hair behind my ear.

I’m now keenly aware of how close we are, “That’s- That’s not possible. Aren’t vampires supposed to be immortal?”

I notice Colby’s eyes flick to my lips and back again before shrugging, “Everything and everyone has their weakness. Your’s is a good mystery. Mine just might be you.”

I find myself leaning closer, so close our lips brush against each other as I say, “I can’t just… I have a life. I have friends and family…”

“We can play normal. However, I don’t see any point in you keeping that shitty job or crappy-ass apartment when I can easily take care of you,” he states, now staring hard at my lips. His eyes make their way back to mine, “You can’t tell me you don’t want this.”

“You’re right, I can’t,” I agree before finally closing the distance and kissing him. His lips fit perfectly with mine as I run my hands through his hair, tugging slightly upon reaching the back of his neck. He groans softly, reaching to pick me up and place me on the bar. Before long, we begrudgingly part for air.

He rubs his hands up and down my sides and hips, “You’re mine now?” He mutters. I nod before returning to kissing him. This time I pour every ounce of feeling I can into the kiss and I can feel him do the same. The air is full of passion and need. In the back of my mind, my thoughts call me crazy once again but I shove them away and lose myself in the man before me.

Masterlist

More Colby Brock Imagines

#colby brock imagine #colby brock imagines #colby brock #sam and colby #sam and colby imagine #sam and colby imagines

[no1sexymansimp]

His guardian angel

‘Note to self; Never owe shit to Bain’ you thought to yourself for the seventh time since you grabbed the emergency bag and floored it on your motorbike. Luckily since seemingly the entirety of the police force was at the robbery you didn’t have to avoid any attempt to stop you for the obvious speeding. 

You had owed Bain a favour after he essentially blackmailed you. As a nurse you had taken the hippocratic oath, you had taken the vows to heart; “I will abstain from all intentional wrong-doing and harm”, and you did. You helped the worst of humanity because you had to. You sucked it up, packed it away and ignored the guilt of the job. Of declaring the time of death of a sweet little girl to her family just minutes before having to care fo the intoxicated driver that took her life. God may judge you for what you did to that monster but his sins will far outweigh your own.

You was sloppy in my execution, leaving behind evidence, making you the main suspect and you would’ve been convicted if it wasn’t for him. Bain had made an offer you couldn’t refuse. To clear you of your actions and prove your “innocence” on the condition that you supply medical equipment and help to the Payday gang whenever needed.

That brings us to where you are now, flooring down a highway with Bain yelling the whole way, directing you to a vacant alleyway near the bank before you threw yourself off your bike and ran to the back of the building not even taking the time to remove the your helmet.

“Alright gang, Doc’s here. I’m sending them to the security room. Do not shoot” Bain chimes in after you duck through a broken window. 

Despite Bain’s clear instructions, the moment you entered the security room you immediately get a face, well more like visor, full of pistol and see two of the most goofiest looking masks you’ve ever seen. This barely lasted a few seconds before Bain quickly responses again

“That’s them, Jacket. Do not kill them” The one with the goofiest looking rubber chicken mask you’ve ever seen lowered his gun slightly

You paid no mind to this as you immediately snapped your attention to the one slouched and bleeding heavily, ‘Hoxton’ your mind supplies. You promptly assess his injuries, sliding off the emergency medical bag off your should and unpacking the necessary equipment within minutes. Multiple deep lacerations, 3 gunshot wounds and most likely blunt force trauma to the head judging from the excessive bleeding pouring from under his mask. You reach up to remove the aforementioned mask, being stopped by a hand snatching your wrist and yanking it away. You looked back to see Jacket staring at you, tightening his grip on your wrist and the pistol in his other hand.

“I just need to remove his mask to check for head injuries and for a possible concussion”, he loosened his grip slightly, “You can guard the door to keep everyone else away” and with that he stood guard by the door and you could continue your work.

You resume removing his mask before beginning to attend to his other injures to improve his breathing, as you removed it he groaned and slowly blinked into consciousness. You doused some gauze in rubbing alcohol before pressing it into the gun wound in his leg, you felt slightly bad since you knew this hurts like a motherfucker but you just put that feeling into another box in the back of your mind.

While you continue to clean and wrap his wounds you ask him questions, keeping him awake and checking for a concussion.

“Can you tell me your name hun?” You tightly wrap the wound on his thigh, continuing on to the next injury

“It’s Hoxton- fuck- you’re the Doc Bain mentioned?” He tried to pull himself to a more up right position but you rested your hand on his shoulder lightly pushing him back to his original position without taking your eyes off what you were doing

You continue with the questions as you worked your way through the injuries, “The one and only, what do you remember doing before I got here”

“Fixing that stupid fucking piece of shit drill” He chuckled despite groaning immediately afterwards after aggravating his injuries. 

His speech was slightly slurred although he doesn’t have a concussion, lucky him.

You reached up to tilt his head in order to gain better access to his head injury, softly holding the connecting area of his jaw and his throat. You reach over to grab another alcohol wipe before you notice him nodding off. As soon as you noticed, you softly tap his face until he woke again.

“‘Cmon love, you need to stay awake. We’re almost done alright?” You clean the laceration on his head as gently as you can, “Name something you can see”

He went silent for a moment before laughing to himself, “An angel” 

You’ve been beside enough people on their death bed to recognize the distant and serene expression he had. The same look patients had when they’re beckoned to the afterlife by a guardian angel, a loved one sometimes patients have even mentioned seeing the grim reaper. You weren’t going to let him die, not that easily. You still owe it to Bain and by God were you going to repay it.

In a moment of sheer panic and desperation you roughly grab his jaw and flicked your visor up forcing him to make eye contact with you 

“NO. Do not follow the angel. You are mine. Not theirs. Mine. You don’t get to leave, you are stuck with me and I chose when you die, alright?” You hold Hoxton a bit closer and subconsciously leaned in closer to inspect his expression, watching his expression shift from serene to a look of almost child-like giddiness 

His speech became more slurred as he was fighting to stay conscious, “But they’re soooo preettty n’ waaarrm” 

“I don’t care, they can’t have you. They have no claim over you. Do you understand?”, Words kept falling out of your mouth due to how anxious you were

He said nothing but nodded along anyways, his eyes were dilated, ears bright red and you tuck two fingers underneath his jaw to check his heart rate. It was beginning to spike up, most likely due to adrenaline. 

Hoxton was honesty fucking confused when he first awoke to a stranger in a biker fit and after years of being touch starved, kinda just basked in your undivided attention as you tended to his injuries while he was too out of it to think properly. It was probably the severe blood loss convincing him to shoot his shot while he had the chance since despite Bain mentioning you in passing often you were never seen in the safe house nor had anyone ever met you, well till now at least. 

He had not expected such a visceral reaction when he called you an angel, but he’d be a filthy fucking liar if he said your words didn’t have an affect on him. His words caught in his throat while he stared into your eyes, admiring how your eyes narrow and how your brows and nose scrunched as you stared into his soul. 

While you finished cleaning his wound and wrapping it up while he just listened as your words replay in his head like a loop. It was a constant repeat of you staking your claim on him. He’s probably lost it, with years of bloodshed, stress and head injuries he was probably more fucked in the head then he’d like to admit. At the end of the day was he really that far gone if you’d lay your claim on him first. It was only fair if he was yours then you were rightfully his as well. 

He tuned out his teammates and Bain while you helped transfer him to the escape van when the heist was done. After hauling him into the back, you were about to return back to your bike but was interrupted when he grabbed you again. 

“Everything fuckin hurts” 

“I know, hun. There’s meds at the safehouse and we can properly treat your injuries there”, While you spoke you tried to get out of his hold to get to your bike, but he kept groaning in pain whenever he moved. 

A bleeding heart brought you into this situation, a strong sense of empathy being your achille’s heel. Even though you both were going to the same location, you now felt guilty for “leaving” him. With a sigh you turned around and called to the rest of the gang

“Anyone know how to ride a bike?”

Immediately another heister, ‘Sydney’ from what you overheard, perked up, “Abso-fucking-lutely” and caught the keys you threw in her direction barely giving her a second before pulling your helmet off to toss to her. While Sydney already had a mask, she cant drive around with that shit out unless she wanted to drag the entire police force with her. You return while Hoxton continues to stare at you while you try to keep him conscious during the trip

You settle in the back of the van next to him while he continued to hold onto you. His guardian angel

#payday 2 #hoxton #pd2 #payday x reader

[camaro-and-smokes]

Pretty (wo)man

Chapter 12: (you don't have to) Put on the Red Light

Tags and warnings for this chapter: Graphic depictions of violence, blood, attempted rape/non-con, date rape drugs/roofies

Notes: Here we are, at the end of this story. I'm letting go of these two reluctantly, but knowing that by finishing this story there will be space inside my head for new ones to tell. Thank you to everyone who's read the story, given lovely comments and fed me with kudos. I love you all 💜 Title from the iconic song 'Roxanne' by The Police.

Moodboard by the lovely @a-redharlequin 💜

Summary: Billy finds himself in a situation he hoped never to get into again.

Read all chapters on tumblr >> / Read on AO3 >>

::::::::::

“So, an ambulance is being called anonymously and over the call, the ambulance is told to take the prostitutes to that hospital,” Tommy explained. “They're treated like any other patient there, privately, top-notch style and not allowing them to see anyone else but their designated nurse and the doctor. When they've healed, they're sent home with a big stack of money. Most have severe memory issues and they can't really remember anything from that night they were brought in. So, yeah, the guy is some big-shot who has the money and the means.” “Fuck,” Steve spat. “Any idea who?” “Well, there's been seven of these and each one has been fully treated, operated if needed and then sent home with 10 000 dollars. That bill has to be in the hundreds and the guy is willing to spend that on a whore for one night. You tell me.” Steve thought for a moment. He knew a lot of businessmen who could have the means. But several times, just one night and, yes, a whore. They had to have a lot of loose money... His breathing halted at the sudden realisation.

Shit.

“Gotta go,” he said to the phone. “Shit, shit, SHIT!” he muttered to himself as he ran towards the front deck. He shouldn't have left Billy alone. When he entered the deck, he couldn't see Billy anywhere. He ran to Heather. “Have you seen Billy?” Heather looked up at him. Her eyes were swimming a little of all the champagne she'd probably been drinking. “Uh... Yeah, he was here with me...” She looked around, surprised that she didn't see Billy with him at the table. “When?” Steve asked urgently. Heather blinked quickly, and her gaze seemed to sharpen a little. “Um, I'm not sure.” She looked at her glass that was half full. “I think it was before I went to get this drink. I got caught up with flirting with one of the bestmen...” “Fuck!” Steve spat and tried to think. Maybe Billy felt sick and went to their cabin. That would be the most likely case. He should check that first. If he was being done something to him, that would also be the most likely place. He started running towards the doors and into the staircase.

“Ah, we're here. Come on,” Charles said and helped Billy into the cabin. Billy blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision, desperately trying to make any details of the cabin. “This...isn't my cabin,” he said, confused, as the man helped him on the bed. “You're right. This is not your cabin. It’s mine.” The quiet dread that had been swirling in Billy’s stomach hit his whole body at once as Charles pushed him, making him stumble backwards and fall on a bed. The world made several somersaults in his head at the quick movement and he felt panic raising within him. “I know you,” he groaned, trying to get back up. His arms failed him and he slid back on his back onto the mattress. “I must know you from somewhere else,” he slurred desperately. “Yes, I would hope so, William. The scars... I enjoyed making them, they were beautiful. I’m sure you still have them. Don’t you, Sweetie?” Fear filled Billy's whole body. “No...no, no, no... Not you,” he repeated again and again, and tried desperately to get up. “You motherfucker...”

-oOo-

Steve barged through the cabin door. He turned the lights on and saw the untouched bed in front of him. Everything was just as they had left it. His hope of finding Billy safe and sound snuffed away and icy dread and desperation placed it.

“Fuck!” he shouted and ran back to the staircase, striding up two-three stairs at a time all the way to the third floor.

-oOo-

Charles laughed a cold, emotionless laugh. “You were easy then, you're easy now. Nothing but a cheap whore,” he snarled. He pushed Billy back down on his back on the bed, climbing on top of him and hastily pulled the hem of the dress up, ripping it. “Oh la la, going commando!” Charles plunged his hand between Billy’s legs and groped his dick and testicles. Billy squeezed his eyes shut. This is not happening, he tried to tell himself. This is just a nightmare, just a nightmare. When Charles’ hand reached Billy’s hole, he laughed with glee. “And a plug too? My my, just waiting for someone to fuck you, aren't you? Oh, you still can make a man so hard with so little, Sweetie.” Billy tried to push Charles away, but he was weak, and when he tried to turn on his side, he was easily pushed back by Charles. “I'm not...for sale...anymore,” he croaked. “Oh, please. Of course you are. I'm sure Steve was very generous. Especially with the stones. I bet you put the plug on only after he gave them to you,” Charles laughed. “But you're worth everything he’s throwing at you. I would know,” Charles said, forcing himself on Billy and kissing him violently. When Billy tried to push the older man away again, the man smacked Billy hard with an open palm. “Yes, keep fighting back. I like it,” he said cheerily. Billy’s teeth clanked together with the smack and he tasted the blood that erupted from a wound in his cheek that resulted. He felt his consciousness fading, but he managed to spit the blood on Charles' face, for he was too weak to do anything else. The older man laughed. “That's the spirit! I remember you liked this last time, too.” He plunged his hand between Billy's legs and yanked the plug out, making Billy grimace. “I so like it you were ready for me.” “It wasn't for you, you asshole,” Billy slurred, tears already stinging his eyes, still trying to push the man away. “Maybe not, but I'm the one taking you,” Charles hissed, and leaned up just enough to unzip his pants and pull out his dick. The tears fell on Billy’s cheeks. He felt utterly hopeless for having the same man raping him again, exactly the same way he did the last time: drugging him. He was only hoping that Charles would just rape him and not torture him in any other way like he did the last time. Despite the horror, Billy felt his consciousness and the fight in him fading away as he lulled into unconsciousness.

-oOo-

When Steve reached the upper deck, he saw that there were six suites there. He frantically tried every and each door and listened if there were any alarming sounds coming through. Once he got to the final suite door, he heard sounds of groaning through it. Since it was locked, he kicked the door as hard as he could and it swung open.

Billy was lying on the bed limply, his eyes closed, head lulling on the side, his mouth hanging open – clearly unconscious – and Charles on top of him, looking at Steve, surprised.

“Get the fuck away from him, you piece of shit!” Steve shouted and attacked Charles, hitting him on his cheek. Blood spattered from Charles' mouth and he pulled back from Billy, losing his balance and falling onto the floor. He spat out blood before he started cackling manically. “You bought yourself a whore. A whore!” he howled. “You drugged and raped him!” Steve shouted, attacking the man again and punching him in the face again and again. Charles' cackles toned down. When he managed to take a breath between Steve's punches, he groaned, “I did no such thing.” Steve grabbed Charles' jaw in his hand, squeezing it tightly, and turned it to make him look at Billy's limp form on the bed. “Look at him! You drugged him and were about to rape him. Just like you did back then!” “You know nothing, boy,” Charles sneered and tried to get Steve to let go of him. Steve hit the older man again, making him fall back and curl on the floor. “Stay the fuck down!” he bellowed. “I might've not have evidence for the other time, but this I witnessed myself. You're going down!” He attacked Charles again and again, hitting and kicking him.

Suddenly, someone grabbed Steve's arms and pulled him away from Charles. “Stop it. Right now,” a calm but stern voice of the man who was holding Steve said. It was the captain. “We'll take it from here.” Steve pulled himself free of the captains hold and rushed to check on Billy. The ship's nurse was already checking on Billy, pointing a flashlight into his eyes and checking his vitals. “How is he?” Steve asked, worried. “He needs help. Probably he's been drugged with some rape drug. I'll call the air medical service to pick him up and take him to a hospital. We should be close enough to Miami for that already.” “Can I go with him?” The nurse nodded. “Sure. I think it would be best for someone who knows him to fly with him.”

-oOo-

Billy was released from the Mount Sinai Medical Center in Miami two days later. Steve tried to help Billy get up from the bed, but Billy pushed him away. “I'm just a little bruised,” Billy laughed. “It's not like I got stitches in nasty places this time. I'll live through these.” “I'm just trying to help,” Steve said with a small smile as he looked at Billy, who started going through his clothes in the luggage Steve had brought with him. “I'm not sure you can wear the dress again, though. It was pretty badly torn.” Billy's smile faltered, and he stopped rummaging the suitcase, looking down at the garment that was in his hands. “I never want to see that dress again,” he whispered. Steve nodded. “We'll get you other dresses. New ones.” Billy let out a laugh, and he looked at Steve with sad eyes. “We're from different worlds. I wouldn't fit in yours, and you wouldn't want to get into mine.” Steve smiled and reached out his hand to brush Billy's arm. “Can I be the judge of that?” Billy looked back at the garment in his hands. “Are you sure?” he asked quietly. Steve cupped Billy's chin in his hand and turned it gently so that their eyes met. “I want you,” he said softly. “No one else. And you'll fit my world just fine. There's no need for you to put on the red light anymore.”

#harringrove #harringrove fic #harringrove fanfiction #billy x steve #steve x billy #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove needs a hug #stranger things #stranger things au #stranger things fic #pretty woman #suometar writes

[dadsbongos]

slender aphrodite has overcome me

Warnings: religious homophobia and internalized homophobia, reader is specifically stated to be a lesbian and catholic (but she isn't catholic by the end), robin being an eddie-hater for 99.9% of this, blink and you’ll miss it nsfw reference Summary: You and Robin were supposed to work on a chemistry project, but then she takes you to Lovers’ Lake. Also, Eddie supports lesbians. Word Count: 7.6 K AO3 Link ~~~

Eddie used to come into your father’s church every Sunday with his uncle. Buzzed head and huffy attitude and wandering eyes, he would stroll in as if he had anything better to do - but he’d always wave at you.

Eventually, you graduated from small waves to him making his uncle sit in the front pew with you and the rest of your family. Though, that turned into you two sitting in the back together while the adults sat in the front. 

Because while everyone else was listening, Eddie was playing tic-tac-toe with you in the notes section of a bible he grabbed and you were challenging him to silent games of rock-paper-scissors. You two would mouth along to every hymn because neither of you knew the words and you’d giggle when your father called on him to speak before everyone for holiday services.

Eddie stopped coming to church when he was eighteen, but he’d always be right outside when service was finished. You’d bounce over to him as he smoked and pretend he didn’t reek of pot and cheap cologne. You’d put up with the stinging eyes and awful tobacco smell because you wanted to see him before he drove his uncle home.

Eddie Munson was your very first, and very closest, friend.

Robin Buckley fucking hates Eddie Munson.

He was always hanging off of you when you two stood next to each other. He would ramble on and on and on and on about music and D&D and how much he hated the faculty at school. He was annoying and he smoked and he dealt drugs and she has no idea why you defend him so hard.

“He’s honestly trying in school, he is. He just has trouble concentrating.”

“Someone has to cover the bills and his uncle’s job doesn’t pay all that well.”

“Eddie has never been anything other than kind to me.”

“He’s just passionate - who can fault him for being interested in things?”

Robin wishes she could’ve been the one sitting next to you in the back pews. She wishes she was the one ranting to you about the music she likes and the movies she watches and the absolute bullshit she has to deal with at work.

And it’s at work that she hyperfixates on this so deeply because Family Video is directly across the street from the new florist shop your mother owns (lovingly called The Garden after terrestrial paradise). And because mommy dearest owns the place, you work there and because you work there, Eddie the motherfucking freak Munson is always leaning against the front counter and talking your pretty little ear off.

And Robin has to watch it all.

Robin shakes her head and buries herself back into restocking the shelves as Steve looks through the pile of returned movies that haven’t yet been checked in. Steve suddenly gasps and snaps and she can hear his shoes squeak against the tile as he spins around to look at her.

“Hey, remember that movie we saw last month? The one about the professor at a motel?”

“Desert Hearts - what about it?” before Steve gets the chance to reply, Robin turns away from restocking and points at him, “Don’t tell me you didn’t like it, I saw you crying.”

“I wasn’t going to,” he raises his hands defensively, “I was going to say - that one girl rented it.”

Robin’s brows furrow and she shakes her head, “You’re lying.”

“I’m not,” Steve can’t help but grin at his friend, “I even kept her receipt. Just for you.”

“Creep,” Robin storms out of the shelves and ducks behind the counter beside Steve, “Show it to me.”

“Alright, alright, give me a second!”

By the vague title of ‘one girl’, Steve meant, of course, the girl that had coincidentally been Robin’s science lab partner for the entirety of her high school career.

The one who lights the bunsen burner because she knows Robin’s hands always shake when she tries. The one who brings bottled water to school just because Robin hates the fountains. The one who works directly across the street. The pastor’s daughter.

Steve holds out the receipt like a gold star sticker, “See?”

“I’m looking,” Robin can hardly believe it.

It’s your name. And right under your name is ‘DESERT HEARTS’ in big, bold letters that Robin wishes she could implant in the tissue of her brain.

“You know what this means, don’t you?” Robin quirks a brow at Steve, and he tosses the scrap of paper at her as he whisper-yells, “She likes boobies!”

“Ew,” Robin swats his arm but grabs the receipt like it’ll decay the moment it touches the ground, “don’t say ‘boobies’. And don’t be so loud about it.”

She shoves Steve towards the cart of movies that need restocked and stares out the glass doors. Right where you work for your mother as a florist. The Garden.

Then, her eye catches the clock - 4:30 in the afternoon.

“Don’t forget, I’m clocking out early today,” Robin calls to Steve.

“Oh, shit,” Steve pokes his head out of aisles to look at her, “when?”

“Mmm,” she hums, watching you and Eddie exit The Garden and wave goodbye to your mother, “like right now.”

“What?! Since when?”

“Since I asked Keith to go home early for a school emergency,” Robin stamps her time card and then walks over to Steve to mutter, “Which is having the pastor’s daughter in my bedroom for our honors chemistry project.”

“Ooh,” Steve raises his eyebrows, “update me on that.”

“Will do,” Robin darts out and across the street to where you’re loading your bag into the back of Eddie’s van, “Hey!”

You turn at the sound of her voice and she’s in love with the way your face brightens at the sight of her, “Hey, Robin! I was just about to have Eddie give me a ride to your place.”

“Yeah,” Robin decides to apologize to Steve later, “so, Steve decided he didn’t wanna give me a ride home anymore,” a complete and utter lie, but neither of you need to know that, “if it isn’t any trouble, could I ride with you two?”

“Uh,” you look at Eddie immediately and while Robin can’t see him in the driver’s seat, she knows her hate grows when you giggle at him before returning to her, “Yeah, of course, you can. I’ll sit in the back, so you aren’t lonely.”

“Wow, so I’m just the chauffeur,” Eddie turns to look at you as you climb into the backseats and Robin follows.

“Sure looks like it,” you shrug, moving your bag to rest in your lap and addressing Robin, “He’s just messing around, don’t buy his teasing, ‘kay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Robin clenches her bag in her own lap and gets a view of Eddie’s side profile as she gives him her address.

But he just smiles and gestures to you, “I’m painfully aware. Everytime someone wants to see you, I’m stuck being her driver.”

His good-naturedness is almost heartwarming. 

But unfortunately, it reminds her how much he sickens her - because she knows that if it weren’t for his reputation, people would flock to him for his looks. You don’t fall into the fear mongering about his reputation, so she can’t help but wonder what you think about him beneath a friendship.

She wants to pick your brain and end the investigation of how you feel. Did you rent Desert Hearts because you’re accepting and it’s cute? Or because you like women? Or, worst of all, to make fun of it with your family?

She can’t just ask because she doesn’t want to scare you off. She’s sure it took enough courage to actually rent the damn thing, you don’t need to be cornered because she’s restless.

“Oh, uhm,” you snap as you speak, “I told my parents I was going to Nancy Wheeler’s house for the night,” you rub the back of your neck nervously, “They’re crazy - don’t even let me go out with friends they don’t know…”

“Ah, no problem,” Robin chuckles, “I used to do the same thing, and then I stopped going out. It’s done wonders for my lying problem.”

You giggle at her jest and she’s convinced that if God’s real, It takes form in your sweet peels of laughter, “I just wanted to let you know.”

“What if they call her, though? Like, to check on you.”

The air turns sour and your smile is tight-lipped, “They won’t.”

She can read between the lines and let the response pass, “You can stay at my house for the night, if you want?”

“Oh, are you sure?” you jab your foot into the back of the driver’s seat, “I was just gonna stay with Eddie.”

“Yes!” she’s so eager and it burns her throat, “I mean, yeah, you can stay at my house. My parents shouldn’t care too much.”

The image of you staying the night with Eddie makes her physically ill.

“Hey,” he suddenly snaps and for a split second Robin’s worried she’d said that aloud, but no - his eyes, of course, are fixated on you in the rearview mirror, “don’t kick the driver. I’ll crash!”

“On purpose?” you quirk a brow and shake your head. Eddie doesn’t verbally respond, but he takes another glance at you in the mirror and shrugs as if to say - duh. As though to calm her nonexistent anxieties, you wave him off to Robin, “He isn’t gonna crash, he loves his van too much.”

“Steve’s the same way,” she rolls her eyes just thinking about the man, she leans down to whisper to you, “You know, for people that hate each other so much - they’re not too different sometimes.”

And that pulls another heavenly bell laugh out of you.

You’ve been to Robin’s house before. For many things. Study nights, projects, sleepovers, simple hours together. You’d lied to your parents for each and every one, but you’d do it again in a heartbeat if it meant uninterrupted hours with Robin Buckley.

Your nails dig into your thigh at that thought. It’s an intrusive one - one that isn’t your fault. 

You spot your father’s church in the distance as the car passes through town and tap Eddie’s shoulder, “Hey, hey, pull over real quick.”

Robin sees the tight set of his jaw and from that she can get a sense for why he decided to leave the church. She can also see it in the way you nervously stare at the church and wring your hands.

“I won’t be long,” you quietly promise as Eddie parks in the lot and hop out.

Eddie watches you march up the steps and shakes his head, “Catholic guilt, am I right?”

“Huh?” Robin leans forward, pressing her face against the back of the passenger seat against her better judgment.

“Every time she sees this place, she has to stop and repent for something. Something that probably isn’t even as bad as what half those people do in their offtime,” he scoffs and Robin is put off by how quickly she falls in line with his words.

But she still doesn’t like him.

…

Your breathing is offset as you step into the church and you spot your father up at the altar, he sighs and makes his way down the aisle to you.

“I thought you were going to the Wheeler’s,” he murmurs.

“We were passing by,” the defense is weak but it’s all you can conjure.

He shakes his head and returns to the altar. You go to the holy water font and carefully dip the tips of your fingers into it, kneeling at the back of the pews and making a cross over yourself as you get to your knees.

You whisper against your hands - clasped so hard they’re shaking against your lips - “Oh, Heavenly Father, please forgive me for I have sinned. I continue to be sickened with the thoughts of women in the way a man should be,” it’s silent in the church and you feel like there’s a gun barrel pressing to the back of your skull, “I promise to you, once I gain the courage to approach my father I will ask him for help, but please, guide me to Your good light and help me get through this,” if possible, your fingers feel like they wind tighter around themselves, “In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.”

You rise and press another cross over yourself. Without a goodbye to your father, you rush out of the church and back to Eddie’s van. 

It wasn’t as though your father would press you for that sort of familial affection anyway. You haven’t so much as whispered your rotten thoughts to him, but it still feels as though he knows.

“Sorry, sorry,” you wave off Robin’s concern as you return to the backseat of Eddie’s van, “Thanks so much, Eds.”

You don’t quite catch the way Robin cringes at the sound of his nickname on your tongue, but if you did then you think that’d be a better distraction than whether or not your father can somehow read your mind.

“Yeah, she’s insane.”

“I am not- “ before you can even finish, though, Robin’s voice cuts in dangerously quick.

“She’s not insane!”

“Hey,” Eddie shrugs in his defense, “whatever you two wanna think.”

Something about the way Robin defends you, in that strong voice with those determined eyes - it makes you wanna confess all over again. You turn and press your forehead to the glass of the window, hoping that perhaps the coolness will ease your sickness.

 …

In Robin’s room is a Flashdance poster. Jennifer Beals in the center in an oversized sweater with her arms hanging between two parted legs. Beside that is a Jessica Lange poster from a scene you recognize from King Kong - Lange in her pearls and gold bikini. You turn to Robin as she shuts her bedroom door.

She catches your eye and then finally seems to spot the two posters, she scratches at her cheek, lowering her bag to the ground, “I just really respect them as actresses.”

“Mhm,” you hum and hop onto her bed.

You lay back into the plush of Robin’s mattress as she picks out clothes from her dresser. You like Robin’s bed more than you do your own - it feels more like home.

“Uh, I’m gonna go change,” she holds up a set of clothes and you nod, waving to her as she leaves.

Robin’s certain that many people would kill and die just for you to be laying in their bed - of course, they would, how could they not? - and she considers herself lucky for you to do so on your own accord.

You dig out the list of ideas you and Robin had constructed in class for your joint chemistry project. It’s empty - you knew that, but maybe if you stared hard enough the words would come onto the paper of their own accord.

Then, like magic - the words weasel their way from your brain, “Nitrogen triiodide.”

“Huh?” Robin tosses her work uniform into the laundry basket and hops onto her bed beside you.

“Nitrogen triiodide!” when she isn’t as excited as you, you continue, “Crystals of iodine will react with concentrated ammonia to precipitate nitrogen triiodide. Then it's filtered out. When it’s dry, the compound is so unstable that the tiniest contact causes it to decompose into nitrogen gas and iodine vapor,” you elaborate further when all Robin does is blink at you, “It’ll explode and let out a purple iodine vapor.”

“Oh, shit!” Robin gets up on her knees, raising her hands above her head, “That’s so cool!” then she extends her arms out, “You’re so smart!”

If this were a movie, Robin would’ve taken you into her arms and kissed you.

And you think you would’ve let her.

You cough awkwardly and nod, “We’d need solid iodine and ammonia concentrate, but it’ll be pretty easy.”

“That was way less time than I thought it’d be,” Robin flopped down onto her back.

“Same,” you shove the paper back into your bag.

Robin’s room reminds you of a sunset. With white walls that bathe in the orange glow of her lamps and a pink bedspread with accents of white. It felt comfortable. More so than the plain black and white theme that your parents absolutely refused to let you change in your own room.

“It’s not too late, yet,” Robin checked her watch - 5:30 in the afternoon, “We could eat and then take a field trip.”

Robin liked going on ‘field trips’ when you came over. It was just her showing you her new favorite spot, but you always just liked to spend time with her.

“That sounds nice,” you rise from her bed, “What’s for dinner?”

“No clue,” she leads you down the stairs and into the kitchen, “Don’t even know if these people went shopping.”

“Then we may have to fend for ourselves,” you sigh in exaggeration.

In all the times you’d been to Robin’s house, you’d only met her parents a few times. It was easy to forget they even existed, to be completely honest. Almost made you imagine what living with Robin would be like.

And that didn’t sound too bad.

Waking up next to her pretty bedhead every day and getting to have that gentle rasp be the first thing you heard in the morning - it sounded simply divine.

… 

There was a lonely pier at Lovers’ Lake. You’d actually never been there before, but Robin knew the way like a piece for band. It took over thirty minutes just to walk there, but the night was cool and Robin even slid her hand into yours.

“It’ll keep you from getting lost,” she swung your joined hands as she said it.

“I’ll trust you then,” you hurried to be closer at her side.

The path was hardly dark enough to get lost on.

“I brought a flashlight, if we need it,” you raise the little light that you’d stuffed into your pockets just in case.

“No, I like adventuring like this,” she squeezes your hand as the shimmering lake grows closer into sight, “Like I’m a big brave knight,” she turns to you and you can see the way her red lipstick perfectly accentuates her lip shape, “and you’re the sweet princess that I get to save.”

“What if I want to be the knight?” you suggest.

“Then I’ll walk behind you and you go ahead.”

“Maybe on the walk back home.”

Robin stops you before you can sit down on the dock, she kneels down and gently brushes her hands over the wood, swiping any debris into the lake before gesturing for you to sit with a, “M’lady.”

“Why, thank you,” you take the hand she offers and seat yourself at the edge of the dock so your legs hang over the edge. Your shoes just barely toe at the water, and for the sake of not having wet socks for the walk home, you decide to keep them on.

Robin sits down, so close that her shoulder just barely brushes against yours. She checks her watch and you lean over her shoulder to get a peek as well - 9:23 at night.

“Worst pet name - go.”

It takes you a moment to register her statement, but even when you do, all you can do is dumbly ask, “What?”

“I’m bored and this is easy conversation,” Robin shrugs and looks at you, “What’s the worst pet name? Like in a relationship.”

“Oh, uhh,” instantly, one comes to mind and makes you shiver - in a bad way, “I used to date a guy who would call me ‘honeysuckle’,” Robin lets out one of her adorable laughs that tatter off into open-mouthed silence as she cranes her neck back in amusement, “I know it was meant to be sweet, but looking back on it I’m a little weirded out.”

“Well, I haven’t been in a relationship yet, but if they called me ‘princess’, I’d puke,” you quirk a brow at her as you laugh and that prompts her explanation, “My dad used to call me that when I was younger, so if the person I was dating ever did it - then I’d just think of my dad.”

“Oh, gross. I’d hate to think of my dad when my boyfriend spoke,” you shake your head.

Robin’s smile tapers down a little, and your heart shutters at the sad sight, “Yeah, I think everyone would.”

“Oh, I have a question for you - “ you bump your shoulder with Robin’s, “what made you want to befriend Steve Harrington?”

You’d be lying if you said Steve Harrington’s closeness to Robin didn’t bother you. He’d already graduated, anyway - why was he still clinging onto her? Steve never had good intentions - everyone in Hawkins knew that - and you didn’t trust him around Robin.

“Ugh,” she gags at the sound of his name, “honestly, I have no clue. He was just so… pathetic with only kids as his friends, I felt - like - a moral obligation.”

She shrugs off the question and while you do laugh alongside her, there’s a burning that settles into your heart. And not the good kind.

“How - uh - are you and Munson still friends?” she’s tapping at the wood of the dock with her nails as she asks.

You like the way the moonlight bounces off her skin, it distracts you, “Hm?”

“Well, a lot of people think he’s, like, a Satanist, or something. I’d think your parents would go nuts about that.”

“They don’t like him anymore, but it’s the one they’ve agreed to let me have. We’ve known each other for too long for them to justify cutting him out of my life.”

“I see,” Robin hums quietly before launching into another question, “Biggest difference between you and Munson?”

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” she shakes her head and smiles at you, “Fun.”

“Uhm,” you narrow your eyes up at the moon as you ponder, “Okay, I got one. Eddie likes metal,” you point to yourself, “I like rock.”

“Oh, wow, such a huge detail,” Robin chuckles, “How could I have missed it?”

“I know, I know. Not a lot of people can see past it, actually.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, when the Hellfire kids found out, they almost went insane.”

“I bet. It sounds insane that you two are even friends.”

You swing your legs off the edge of the dock and look at Robin, “What’s the biggest difference between you and Steve?”

“Uhm,” Robin’s mouth hangs open in shock as her mind blanks, “oh my God, we’re way too similar, actually.”

“Ew,” you gag and Robin gasps, turning to you with a broad smile, though she’s trying to stifle it with faux betrayal.

“What do you mean ‘ew’?!” she takes the hand you’re using to hide your growing giggles and shakes it around, “‘Ew’?!”

“I’m kidding! I’m kidding!” you gently bat her arm, “I’d hate for that to be me, though.”

“Oh my God,” for a moment, Robin panics, thinking she may have offended you, but you’re still laughing. Having a good time.

She decides to simply revel in it. You’re a far cry from the panicked stopping of Eddie just to confess for a sin she’s sure wasn’t all that bad. And she hopes that just maybe she had a part to play in that.

Then, suddenly, she can’t keep an opinion to herself, “You have dated some of the ugliest guys in Hawkins, you know that?”

Well, it’s a fact, rather. Everyone who knows your dating history - knows that.

“Oh my gosh,” you shake your head, “c’mon, they aren’t that bad!”

“They so are! You can’t tell me that Christopher Marks was a decision made of sound mind.”

You pop a light smack to Robin’s arm but don’t tell her off, “Yeah, fine, my exes aren’t lookers. But they were nice, right?” you turn to look at her this time, “Maybe I don’t date for looks.”

“You can date for personality and still have attractive partners,” Robin gives you a side eye, “Or, attractive to you, at least.”

“So maybe I wasn’t that attracted to them,” and like a prayer, you repeat, “but they were nice, right? My parents liked them a lot.”

“They were nice,” Robin nodded, “Pretty bland, though.”

“Robin, what are you trying to say?��� your giggles have died into something serious. Your smile makes Robin nervous just looking at it and your eyes have widened a little. Like you’ve been caught with your hand in the cookie jar, “I know I don’t date the coolest, hottest guys - but they were nice to me and my parents really liked them. Not everyone can have Steve Harrington wrapped around their finger.”

Robin‘s brows furrow and she shakes her head, “Steve and I aren’t a thing.”

“Then you must be blind,” you stand up from the splintered wood dock and throw your arms out at your sides in exasperation, “because there’s something between you and Steve that a lot of people don’t have.”

“Yeah, well, I could say the same thing about you and Eddie fucking Munson,” Robin shoots up from the pier, brows drawn tight and shoulders tensed, “You two are weirdly close for a pastor’s daughter and the outcast Satanist.”

“He is not a Satanist - how could you even suggest that about us?” you feel sick to your stomach and while you know exactly why it matters that Robin doesn’t get too close, you aren’t sure why she’s so wrapped up in your friendship with Eddie Munson, “He’s ni- “

“Oh, is he nice?” Robin tilts her head, “Would your parents like him?”

“Shut up,” your throat is rubbing raw and you think there’s tears welling in your eyes.

“Well?” she laughs and it feels like a blade twisting into your gut, “Isn’t that the criteria? Your parents want a nice guy that everybody but you likes and you’re so willing to play the sweet pastor’s daughter role that you don’t even break up with them!”

“What do you want me to do, Robin?!” you know you should be walking away. You shouldn’t be arguing with her out here. You should be at home. Or better, at church.

Robin quiets down and simply stares at you. Her eyes look so sweet in the moonlight, though. You’ve always liked her eyes.

You shake your head. You should be praying and away from Robin.

“Why do you care about me hanging out with Steve?” her voice gets more raspy the quieter she speaks and you like that, too. You like the way your name sounds from her pink lips when she calls to you. But now, when she calls to you, it feels like acid in your ears.

Your hands shake and you dodge her stare, you can feel the swell of your throat and the sweat breaking out along your forehead. You can feel your knees buckling and your legs wobbling.

“I should go,” you turn and Robin grabs your wrist in her soft hand.

“Why do you care about me hanging out with Steve?” you can’t bring yourself to look at her, “Do you like him?”

“No!” you whip around and look Robin in those sapphire eyes and it makes you wanna puke just how much you’d sacrifice right now to stare into those eyes until the world collapsed into burning brimstone like in Sodom and Gomorrah, “I do not like Steve Harrington, I just- I- “

“You what?” Robin’s nearly whispering now, her voice is gentle and she carefully brings up a hand to cup your cheek, “Nobody’s out here - you can tell me anything you want.”

“I- “ you’re calmer when Robin’s holding you than when you’re sitting in the church pews and feel the crawling gaze of your elders. When they’re wondering when you’ll actually get a man to stay. When everyone is asking why you don’t hurry and pick a man and everyone is saying that it’d be so easy - you’re the pastor’s daughter.

You’re sweet. You don’t care where they go. You don’t get jealous. You aren’t selective about looks. You could have any man you wanted.

And that’s the problem.

“I don’t like men, Robin,” you whisper it so quietly you’re almost hoping that she didn’t even hear you, “I don’t know what to do, but I just don’t like them. They aren’t cute and none of them appeal to me. Not one of them.”

Robin nods, “You wanna know a secret?”

“What?”

“I don’t like men, either,” she’s louder than you when she says it and for a moment, you hope that that could be you someday.

But until then, you’re shell shocked at her admission, “What? I- I thought I was… sick.”

“You’re not sick,” Robin smiles, “We’re not sick. So, wanna tell me why you’re so jealous of Steve Harrington?”

Robin thinks that your laughter is the true sound of angels, “I am not jealous of Steve Harrington. He peaked in high school and follows a group of kids around.”

“Wow,” she muses, “church girl has a mean streak.”

“That wasn’t mean,” you reach up and press your hand against the one she holds your face with, “I’m not jealous of him.”

“Sure,” Robin teases.

Just then, you think you hear a branch snap behind you two.

You break apart from Robin and search the clearing with wild eyes for the source of the sound. 

A dog is sat staring at you before getting bored and strolling off. It slams on you like a ton of bricks - the things you just risked. 

Your reputation.

Your father’s position.

Your parents’ respect.

Robin’s reputation.

Being with Robin is dangerous, it makes you act out in ways your father would lash you for. So now you retract into yourself.

What would your friends think if they saw you now? What would your teachers say about you if they knew?

You shake your head and turn away from Robin, “I have to go.”

“Wait, don’t- “ you can hear her chase after you but you’re too quick to run away.

You duck into a gas station and hide among the shelves until you’re certain Robin’s given up following you. You meander over to the counter and fiddle with your fingers as you sheepishly ask, “Can I please borrow your phone?”

The boy behind the counter recognizes you and nods, though he seems shaken to see you. He points over to the phone at the corner of the counter and asks, “Is everything okay, sister?”

“Yes, brother” you try to smile while returning the Catholic sentiment despite not remembering who this boy is, “everything is perfectly fine. I got lost on one of my walks.”

You hope he doesn’t bring this up in church on Sunday. As far as your parents are concerned, you’re at Nancy Wheeler’s house - though they don’t know that you and Nancy have grown apart since freshman year. 

Your voice keeps quiet in case the boy is as prone to snooping as the rest of your church is, “Eddie? I need you to pick me up.”

…

Eddie truly is a sweetheart when you go by the book and don’t cast the first stone, though most of your father’s believers don’t follow that themselves. 

Eddie doesn’t waste much time coming to your aid and he doesn’t complain about the hour - but judging by the darkening skin patching under his eye, he certainly is in need of sleep.

“So, care to explain why I’m driving you to my trailer?”

You stare at your best friend’s side profile, then the trees just outside, then back to him - then back to the trees. For a moment, you imagine running away into those trees and away from each law dictated by the little book your parents hang over you. 

You turn back to your friend, “Eddie?”

He glances at you and hums.

You know he isn’t religious, but even so - you don’t have to be religious to hate something. What if he thinks it’s weird? 

What if he’s disgusted? 

What if he’s only okay with it so long as he can leer? 

No, you know Eddie. He may not be the smartest person you’ve ever known, but he’s much wiser and so much kinder than anybody else in Hawkins.

“I- “ your eyes clench and you bury your fidgeting hands into your stomach in hopes it would kill the nerves. Anything to kill the nerves, just for a moment.

“I - I’m… gay…”

You aren’t sure what you were expecting when you blurted that out to Eddie, but his sarcasm certainly wasn’t on the list. 

“Wow? Really?” his voice is flat and when you look at him, he’s shaking his head. He turns to you and grins, “You made me watch Desert Hearts with you. Twice!”

“It’s a love story! Everyone loves a love story!”

“Yeah, but not usually a lesbian love story,” Eddie turns into the trailer park and sighs as the van is shut off, “I’m sorry - “ he faces you completely, “do you want me to do that again? More surprised this time?”

“Stop,” you swat his arm and he rubs the area as though it actually hurt, “This is serious. I don’t know what to do.”

Eddie holds up a hand and puts up three fingers, “I can tell you one of three things. What you wanna hear, what your parents would say, or what I actually wanna tell you. Which do you want?”

You know what you want to hear. Keep the status quo and don’t reach out. If you hear that, then you’re afraid you’ll actually do it, and deep down, you think you’re more afraid of living a life of lies and internalized hatred than you are about anything this town could do to you.

You respect your parents. And you respect Eddie. But between them, you think Eddie’s had your best interest in mind more than they have. He makes a show of begrudgingly watching Desert Hearts (though you did see him tearing up by the end), sure, but if you’d even suggested it to your parents - you would probably be homeless, at best. Eddie knows you - the real you - and he cares about you.

“What do you actually want to tell me?”

“I think you should be safe, but be yourself,” he reaches out and takes one of your hands in his, “I don’t think you should tell your parents, but I do think that you should go back to her.”

The her that always grabs the chemicals in chemistry because you hate getting out of your seat. The her that offers to carry your books during school. The her that doesn’t ask why you two never meet at your house. The her that’s a lovingly geeky member of the school band. The her that works right across the street from you.

“It isn’t safe right now, but I just know that one day it’ll be better. For now, you have to be careful about who you’re yourself to, but you shouldn’t hide completely.”

“I have a crush on Robin Buckley,” you murmur.

“You make me drive you to all the football games just so you can see her perform at halftime - and she doesn’t even have a solo. I figured you might fancy her.”

“How will I be able to ask forgiveness when I know I’m sinning?”

There’s a sigh before Eddie puts up both hands, folding them at the palm and pushing them together as if to kiss, “If this a man and a woman, is it a sin if they kiss?” you shake your head, “Alright, and are they going to heaven just because they’re a man and a woman who kiss?” once again, you shake your head, “And didn’t God make them that way?” you nod this time, “Okay - now pretend this is you and Robin. Didn’t God make you two this way?” you nod, “And if straight people aren’t going to heaven just for being straight, why does it make sense for gay people to go to hell just for being gay?”

“Father says- “

“‘Father’ reads from a book that’s been translated a million times over a million years. Some shit’s bound to be fucked up,” Eddie pats your head, “Okay, precious?”

“Knock it off,” you huff and brush his hand off of you. Your fingers twist into the material of your shirt as the images of her, lonely, at the pier flash into your mind, “I blew her off. What should I do?”

“Apologizing tomorrow, I think, is your best course of action,” he starts to unbuckle but you latch onto his forearm before he can.

“No, what would be romantic?” you let go of him as he turns to look at you again, “I want to do something to show her I’m sorry, not just say it.”

“I- I don’t know,” he sighs, “Do something stupid like in that movie.”

You look out the windshield and Eddie can only watch the gears in your head turn. The way your brows furrow and how your fingers tap at the dashboard of his van.

“Hey,” Eddie taps the side of your head, “I have an early deal tomorrow, so if you’re gonna need me to drive you around, make your mind up quick.”

“I do need you to drive me around,” you nod quickly, “The Garden, take me there - and Family Video,” the van thrums back to life as Eddie turns the keys, “and then to Robin’s house.”

“Yet again, I’m playing chauffeur,” Eddie mumbles under his breath, but he doesn’t put up a fight as he drives out of the park.

…

You wrangle the keys to the store from your pocket and wave Eddie inside as you unlock the doors. Eddie bonelessly falls into step with your plan despite his initial whining, you take him by the shoulders and squeeze, “You know what violets are, right?”

“I’m not totally stupid.”

“Okay, I’m trusting you to arrange a small bouquet of violets while I get a movie from Family Video, if you mess up - I won’t tutor you anymore.”

Eddie wasn’t afraid of failing because you stopped tutoring him, but he didn’t want to vocally tear through your thin threat - so he nods and takes the keys you held out. You cheer, racing out of the shop and down the street to Family Video.

Family Video managed to keep ahead of its one competitor in town by one factor. It wasn’t that they had the best selection or the broadest shelves, it was that they stayed open one extra hour.

They closed at eleven. 

And right now it was 10:54 at night and Steve Harrington was glaring at you through the glass store windows.

“Desert Hearts,” you rush to the romance section before Steve can even greet you, “Desert Hearts, Desert Hearts.”

“Hasn’t been checked in, yet,” Steve pauses your frantic searching and digs through the pile of returned tapes at his side, he holds up the tape as you come to the counter, “Can’t rent it to you.”

“Steve, please,” you’re certain you look absolutely deranged with the way you’re gripping onto his wrists with wide, pleading eyes, “It’s an emergency.”

“How dire?”

“If I don’t have that movie, I think I’ll die,” your eyes flicker away from him and then back, “Do you know Robin?”

Robin promised to update him about your shared evening and the store hasn’t gotten a single call. Yet here you are, high-strung and skittish.

“How do you know Robin?” his eyes narrow at you.

“Steve,” you want to snatch that tape from his hand and it’s taking every inch of good faith within you to not do so, “please, I need this movie.”

“Fine, but I’m hearing all of the context tomorrow.”

“Of course,” you grin when he finally hands over the tape, “Thank you, thank you, thank you, Steve!”

Before the glass doors slam shut, you can hear Steve shout after you, “If she comes to me in tears, you’re dead!”

Eddie’s locking up The Garden as you’re running up to him, you catch the keys he tosses you and once you’re both back inside his van, he gingerly hands you the bouquet he threw together. It’s not bad for someone who has only ever watched you put flowers together.

… 

If the cops in Hawkins actually patrolled at night then you’re sure Eddie would’ve been pulled over enough times for every resident in town. You have to hold the handle above the door as he speeds to the Buckley home. 

He slams the breaks right at the curb to Robin’s house and you’re nearly sent through the windshield. You throw the door open and hop out with the flowers and movie in hand, but before you can shut the door, Eddie calls to you.

“Good luck,” he pounds his fists against the steering wheel, “but if things don’t go well, call me and I’ll pick you up.”

You give him a thumbs up and wave him off as he drives away - at a much more mellow pace than earlier, might you add.

You’ve seen the Buckley home many times. Countless days spent here meant to be study sessions that turned into nights of doing each other’s nails and hair and testing new chapstick flavors and throwing fashions shows that you’d wished would end in both your clothes in piles on the floor.

But it’s so much more daunting this time. 

The lights are off - except for one. The one at the very top room to the right, the resting place of your heart: Robin Buckley’s room.

You make your way underneath that window like a moping puppy in the rain. You take up a rock and toss it at Robin’s window. 

Then another. 

And another. 

And another. 

And just as it’s looking like you’ve lost your chance, Robin peeks through her peachy curtains and her eyes widen.

You can see faint black tear tracks drawn over her cheeks and it feels like hellfire ignites in your chest knowing you did that. You hold up the hand fastened around a tape and a hastily made bouquet of violets.

Robin quietly opens her window and leans out of it to whisper-yell at you, “What are you doing here?!”

You whisper-yell right back, “I’m sorry! I talked with a friend and I- “ you chuckle but nothing’s funny, “Everything’s different! Can you let me up, please?”

She ducks back into her room and then returns to point at a shed to your left, through the hazy dark you can barely make out a ladder leaning into the shed’s wall. 

With only one hand, you climb the ladder and you’d do it infinitely more times if it meant you could land at Robin’s side in the end. You hold out the violets and Robin takes them. Heat rushes your skin as she inspects the flowers, your nerves light up and you wish you could sit down, but you’re too afraid to break the momentary serenity.

“Why’d you come back?” she thumbs one of the soft petals, almost like she’s making a point to avoid your eyes.

“I spoke with a good friend,” you take a step forward, both hands latched tightly to the tape in fear that the entire room would fade away if you let go, “I’m scared, but I can’t lose you, Robin Buckley,” you want nothing more than to softly kiss away the pout on her lips, “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Doesn’t the church think God should be before all other things?”

“I think so,” you nod and take another step closer, this time Robin looks at you and you feel like you’re finally seeing the heaven that your father reads about. Her freckles and her lips and her cheeks and the way her hair falls, you want it all and you hope that the day you lose her is the day the world falls apart, “but I don’t really give a damn.”

“Wow,” she grins, placing a hand over her heart, “The sweet pastor’s daughter? Swearing? And for sacrilege no less?” 

“Yeah, well,” you chuckle, feeling her gaze spark electricity in your veins, “the sweet pastor’s daughter is a lesbian.”

Robin wipes at the remnants of her mascara tears and holds out her hand for the movie you’re holding, “I saw this, you know?”

“I didn’t, but - I figured it would be something you’d like. It’s sweet.”

“I like the ending.”

“With the train?” you suggest, clasping your hands together. There’s only one ending, but Robin graces you with mercy.

“Yeah,” she nods, “with the train.”

Robin comes forward and takes your cheek in her hand just like she had at the pier, and this time you’re determined to stay planted right where she wants you. You reach up and card your fingers through her messy hair as she brings you forward.

“You know,” Robin whispers against your lips, “I really hated Eddie for always hanging off you.”

You giggle and tenderly press your forehead to hers, “I hated Steve for following you around all the time.”

“Yeah, I did, too,” she jests before finally taking the leap you wish had happened years ago - when she walked into freshman year integrated science and sat next to and complimented your shoes.

She closes the gap between you two and you’re finally having a kiss that means something. Like little fireworks bursting beneath your skin - kind of finally meaning something. Robin tastes like bubblegum and cherry chapstick and you wish that every kiss you have can taste like this.

You wish that every kiss you have can be with Robin Buckley - in her sunset bedroom with a bouquet of violets.

#robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x you #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader #robin buckley oneshot #happy pride gays

[autisticlancemcclain]

“Keith?!” Lance yells, leaning over the railing at a lone, masked Blade hundreds of feet below in a crowd. The rest of the Blades are scattered about, but one is standing nearer to the lifts leading up to the top of the cliff (the planet’s for a kinda Grand Canyon Meets Tourist City kinda vibe).

“There is no fucking way that’s him,” Pidge says incredulously. “There’s no fucking way you recognised him. He’s, like, half a mile down and masked. No way.”

“Unfortunately, I’d recognize that idiot in the apocalypse with a bullet in my brain,” Lance growls, sprinting down in the direction of the idiot in question.

Pidge exchanges a completely gobsmacked look with Hunk. The blink at each other, before looking down the the masked Blade (who’s not Keith, there’s just no fucking way), and seeing Lance approaching them rapidly.

He has made it down the cliff remarkably quickly. Inhumanly quickly, in fact. There’s no way he should have gotten there that fast, the lifts take five minutes and it’s been thirty seconds at most.

“Keith Yorak motherfucking Kogane!” Lance screeches, loud enough that Hunk and Pidge (and the rest of the planet, dear Lord) hear him clearly from where they’re standing — which, Pidge would like to reiterate, is half a fucking mile away.

The Blade startles, whipping forward to face Lance.

Pidge’s jaw drops.

No fucking way.

“How fucking dare you!” Lance continues, incensed. “You don’t call! You don’t text! You don’t even fucking e-mail! Just radio fucking silence, for weeks! I thought you were dead! How fucking dare you, you caddish boor! I should divorce you right here and now!”

“Did he just say divorce?” Hunk demands.

“He did,” Pidge breathes.

Lance continues to stomp towards the Blade, and the crowd parts for him like he’s fucking Moses.

The Blade has their hands up placatingly, almost desperately.

“I can’t hear him,” Hunk hisses. “Pidge, use your sound enhancer.”

Pidge scrambles to boot up the device, pointing it frantically at the duo.

Lance has finally caught up to the Blade (until they unmask Pidge refuses to admit it’s Keith. There is no fucking way Lance recognised him. No.), who seems torn between rushing forward and running away.

Personally, Pidge would have run away. A furious Lance is not someone she makes a point of being around. He’s lethal (and right now he’s armed, Jesus. If the Blade is Keith, he’s a dumbass).

“What do you have to say for youself?” Lance demands, stopping mere inches in front of the Blade, arms crossed and tense.

Finally, finally, the Blade removes his mask.

And damn it all to hell, it is Keith. Holy shit.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he says softly.

Pidge and Hunk stare at each other with wide eyes. Sweetheart?!

“What happened to ‘cargo pilot’?” Pidge asks weakly.

“Sorry is not fucking good enough, Kogane! I want an explanation!”

“I lost my comm on my last mission, and signal’s blocked at HQ. That’s why you haven’t heard anything from Kolivan, either, and also why we’re here. We’re trying to fix it.”

To Pidge and everyone else’s horror, Lance’s furious expression crumples. Tears start to leak down his face. “So you’re okay? And you’re not leaving me?”

“Oh, Lance.”

Keith surges forward, tucking Lance into a tight hug as his shoulders shake. He glares at the gaping bystanders. “Mind your fucking business,” he snaps, and they all turn away quickly.

Pidge figures his warning doesn’t apply to her and Hunk.

“I’m okay, babe. I’m safe. And I’m not leaving you, okay? I made a vow. In sickness and health, remember?”

“Those bitches eloped!” Hunk exclaims, turning off the listening device and handing it back to Pidge. They’re silent for a few moments, continuing to nosily watch the (Jesus Christ) couple embrace each other tightly.

“…Should we wait a few minutes and then go down and make fun of them?” Pidge suggests.

Hunk grins at her. “You read my mind.”

#this is so silly lmfao #but u know that song of achilles quote? #i’d know him in death and at the end of the world? #it’s very klance #and also i love this trope so #AND i love eloped klance #vld #voltron #pidge #pidge holt #lance #lance mcclain #hunk #hunk garrett #garrison trio #keith #keith kogane #klance #established klance #married klance #blade keith #hurt/comfort #my writing #fic fragment #tall keith

[chalkrevelations]

Oh my god what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck

Hold on. Just … just hold on a minute. I have to hyperventilate for a minute, and then I have to go take a walk around the block to bring myself down from the way I am suddenly dialed up to 12 and vibrating like a glass that’s going to shatter.

So, I’m inappropriately cackling at Pete bagging on Big’s lack of finesse in the interrogation scene and Vegas’s response that he’ll show them some finesse, and then Vegas opens his Torture Suitcase and pulls out his Torture Raincoat, and the entire bodyguard contingent that was just about to beat a guy to death gasps and clutches their smelling salts and feels around behind themselves to make sure their fainting couches are in place, because apparently everyone is all “be gay, do crime!” until it’s Vegas doing the crimes, and then, suddenly, precision murder is somehow worse than blunt-force trauma. But WAIT. Did I say the entire bodyguard contingent? Because that is INCORRECT.

DO NOT THINK, Button, that I failed to notice the once-over you gave Vegas while everyone else was vaguely cringing over the Torture Raincoat and abandoning ship. No, you didn’t even blink, lit. OR fig., as you watched the entire thing go down. You checked him out like a pick-up in the backroom of the club, and then you continued to stare directly into the abyss - even if you didn’t look happy about it, in the end, you never looked away - and this gives me so much hope for the crunchytastiness we’re going to get down the road, when the abyss stares back into you. My only regret is that Vegas was turned away when the once-over happened and possibly – possibly – unaware of your gaze, although maybe it’s more delicious if he’s completely unprepared for you. Pete, my darling, my beloved. You’re going to be a match for him, aren’t you? Out of nowhere and all unexpected, and you’re going to get INSIDE HIS HEAD with your clever little fingers and your vulnerable wrists and your unflinching gaze and your shroud of gray, and you’re going to turn him INSIDE OUT, and I CANNOT WAIT. Vegas Motherfucking Theerapanyakul is not going to know what hit him, and he’s not even going to realize he’s in danger  love  danger until it’s too late.

WHEN, Show? I need it. Like air.

#vegas theerapanyakul #pete phongsakorn #MY BELOVED #vegaspete #kinnporsche #liveblogging ep 7 i guess #how we feeling vegaspete nation?

[jellybeanium124]

watching a new simpsons episode for the first time since... season 32? and let's be real I don't remember anything past season 29 because the simpsons got reeeeeeeal boring. but taika is in this episode so fuck it amirite? anyways here's my reaction to season 35 episode 9 "Murder, She Boat."

wow the animation seems worse? something is noticeably worse

I like that bart is acting like a 10yo with the vroom-vroom thing. a big issue later simpsons have is the kids acting like teenagers or even adults (in lisa's case)

homer simpson: nerd hater

wow they're parodying that thing from phineas and ferb!! :D (asdfhbsdgjl I know p&f was doing a parody too)

also there was already a simpsons episode where they went on a cruise and it's one of the best damn episodes of the modern era if you ask me (23x19 "A Totally Fun Thing Bart Will Never Do Again")

ANNOYING ANNOYING ANNOYING ANNOYING

"Oh my God is that Taika Waititi?" I stg lisa's had a line like this every since since season 11. STAHP IT INTRODUCE YOUR CELEBS NATURALLY YOU PIECE OF SHIT HD SIMPSONS EPISODE

remember when simpsons celeb cameos used to be good. because I don't because it was all before I was born.

Why is everyone moving weird. seriously wtf is up with the animation they're too damn smooth

"You know it's good, because it's based on existing IP" ouch wow ouch... ouch it hurts

Comic Book Guy acting Like That™ is the only guy who works because CBG is supposed to act like that. Like CBG should be an obnoxious nerd that you'd root to see homer actually beat up lol. not any other random motherfucker!

CBG shredded bart's comic right in front of him??? jesus christ that dude sucks

You can really tell the producers were like "taika, just read the lines" because his performance is giving "taika, just read the lines"

shut up with your vegemite american writers

see it's cute when taika pretends to have a stupidly inflated ego of his own volition but when the simpsons writers make him do it I'm like "BRO ARE YOU OK BLINK TWICE IF THEY'RE HOLDING YOU HOSTAGE UNTIL YOU SAY THE LINES IN THE BLANDEST VOICE YOU'VE GOT!!!"

What... what the actual fuck was that joke with Kumiko. Like her whole character has always been kinda racist but that was such an incredibly racist joke... what the fuck actually for real was that.

The Futurama reference was cute tho.

CRINGE CRINGE CRINGE CRINGE

there was like, a halfway decent albeit tropey bart & lisa moment in there but then we went straight back into the cringe

"Of course I'll help you. Why? Because I have a medical condition that forces me to be multitasking at all times." ok can everyone shut up forever actually and stop speculating about that man. if the simpsons writers are making that joke it's time to stop

taika actually sounds like he had a gun to his head and recorded these lines for 18 hours until 3am

something weird about the simpsons going on for 35 years is that all the characters sound slightly different than they did in seasons 2-15 now. like they've all aged 35 years and you can hear it in their voices. the kids have this... oldness to them now that, even tho the voice actors on this show are talented as hell, can't totally hide (and who knows they may not be trying to because who gives a fuck it's simpsons season 35)

taika being distracted joke. haha. what if I release the bees on everyone who speculates about that.

I can't listen to the horrible lines they gave him anymore 😭😭😭 "egomaniac" isn't funny 😭😭😭

I mean like it's not like the dialogue anyone else is getting is great either, just to be clear. it's pretty terrible across the board lol. I'm just a titch sensitive to how taika (real man) is being written for... reasons... I mean maybe I shouldn't it's not like it matters and nobody thinks your portrayal on the simpsons is how you truly are. there's a time honored tradition of celebrities being portrayed as egomaniacs or fucking crazy on the simpsons when everyone knows they aren't (bette midler doesn't throw cans at people irl and darryl strawberry isn't a kiss ass... although both those celebrities have their own issues). I guess it bothers me because it is playing up something that's real and fake at the same time, and also this man is getting unduly criticized for a lot of shit rn.

Kumiko's speech was actually painful. "When we got married, I was his priceless collectible." DID NOBODY FUCKING SEE A PROBLEM WITH THAT IN THE WRITER'S ROOM?? DID NOBODY SEE HOW THAT BLATANTLY PLAYS INTO THE FETISHIZATION OF AISAN WOMEN??? Like holy fucking shit what the hell was wrong with the writers of this episode???

wow I love seeing marge and homer be really depressing bad parents -_-

Ok so when Rainer Wolfcastle shouts out his latest movie, that's funny and doesn't bother me. Troy McClure's shtick never bothered me either. Probably because they're FICTIONAL

Lisa said "damn it" ?!?!?!?! SHE WOULD NOT FUCKING SAY THAT. Lisa doesn't curse wtf are you doing she'd say "darn it!!!"

cringe cringe cringe cringe

if I had a nickel for every time lisa simpson solved a murder mystery because of the cuprit's signature favorite food being left on a weapon, I'd have two nickels. which isn't a lot but it's weird that it happened twice, right? (the first time was the 3rd segment in treehouse of horror XV, "Four Beheadings and a Funeral")

taika being mad at people tearing apart his room was the best line delivery he gave in this episode. like there was a real emotion.

sideshow mel saying "who speaks with such an exaggerated affectation!" got 1 chuckle out of me

damn. CBG dropping the doll into lake springfield is just like ed dropping his leathers into the ocean. (not even remotely true)

in conclusion is this a bad episode of television don't watch it

#nina rambles

[ao3feed-newsies]

Kiss me like you do

by, Mavkediemackmack by Mavkediemackmack Idk the title is totally random bit it just spring to mind so deal with it idc. Just some fluff and maybe even some smut parts. Maybe something else idk yet. Just i have to many ideas to keep to myself so i took it on me to show then to you. Words: 387, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken, Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies (1992) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Other Characters: Annie Kelly, Jack Kelly (Newsies), Sarah Jacobs (Newsies), E. A. Monahan, Hannah (Newsies), Medda Larkson | Medda Larkin, Crutchie (Newsies), Meyer, Esther Jacobs (Newsies), Les Jacobs, Snaps - Character, Tumbler (Newsies), Cricket - Character, Pinky, Curls - Character, Tommy Boy (Newsies), Scooter, Scratches - Character, Purples, Pepper, Kitchin‘, Laces - Character Relationships: Kid Blink/Mush Meyers, David Jacobs/Jack Kelly, Albert DaSilva/Racetrack Higgins, Spot Conlon/Racetrack Higgins, Spot Conlon/Albert DaSilva, Spot Conlon/Albert DaSilva/Racetrack Higgins, Hot Shot/Ike (Newsies), Katherine Plumber Pulitzer/Darcy Reid, Katherine Plumber Pulitzer & Darcy Reid, Bryan Denton/Hannah, past spot conlon/ Jack Kelly, Sarah Jacobs (Newsies)/Original Female Character(s), Henry/Tommy Boy (Newsies), Sarah Jacobs/Laces Additional Tags: fem!hotshot - Freeform, Blush - Freeform, jelly - Freeform, space, i find it rly cool how all the ships in newsies are real words, semi romantic! Katherine pulitzer/Darcy Reid, spot conlon and Jack Kelly are Ex‘s, you can fight me on this, Racer has ADHD, u can fight me on that too, Annie Kelly was a masive asexual, hannah is hungarian, and left handet, and kidblink and henry are lefthandet as well, i have a very strong opinion on that, spot connlons pink suspenders, Period-Typical Homophobia, Maybe - Freeform, Everyone Needs A Hug, Sarah Jacobs is a Feminist, albertd nick name is flinchy, 92‘sies Henry, At this point im just making up oc‘s but thats okay, there are so many newsies, no ones gonna care, There are less girls than boys bc period typicall sexism, Mush and Blink are two switch asf motherfuckers, cant change my mind, that is a switch relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Mush has adhd, everyobe has adhd bc im projecting read : https://ift.tt/IpO27Vm - December 08, 2023 at 04:57PM

#AO3feed #newsies #fanfic #newsies fanfic