#High-definition television | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

reidrum · 3 months

Text

the many names | s.r

a/n: i could not get the idea that spencer would have little explanations for all the names he has for you so i give you this enjoy

summary: in which the many names that spencer calls you each have a special meaning

cw: mind rotting fluff

wc: 1.1k

honey:

spencer’s childhood was anything but ordinary. graduating high school at 12, with a schizophrenic mother, and an absentee father is a combo meant to mess anyone up. the one thing he felt was constant were the sitcoms his mother would watch when she had her good days. shows like i love lucy and cheers filled his ears as he watched the picture perfect families navigate through mundane and seemingly normal scenarios. the comfort he found in these televised families, something he wasn’t afforded in his own, was a nice little bandaid on the gaping hole left by the oddities of his life.

until he met you, of course. you changed everything for him, showed him what it meant to be loved and cherished, what family really was outside of the textbook definition. as a young boy he’d always envied ricky ricardo coming home to lucy at the end of every work day, bursting through the door and saying “honey, i’m home!” the phrase itself encompassed what he so dearly longed for; a home.

so when spencer calls you honey, he means it because you’re sweet and sappy and all the things normally associated with honey. but for him, specifically, when he gets to come back from harsh cases, bursting through the door of your shared apartment yelling “honey, i’m home!”, it heals that gaping hole from his childhood little by little, replacing the wound with the home you’ve built together.

sweetheart:

for someone who absolutely loves sweet things, calling you sweetheart was an obvious title in his book. the way you cared so deeply for the people in your life, the people you didn’t know, even those involved in heinous crimes were offered some of your never ending empathy. it inspired him, to know that someone who sees the true horrors of humankind on the daily can still hold hope and love for the world’s inhabitants.

when spencer calls you sweetheart, it’s in the more domestic moments of your lives. when he asks which tea you want, when he can tell it’s been a rough day and he lets you rest in the comfort of his arms saying “it’s okay, sweetheart. i’m here now.”, when he leaves you long and loving voicemails for when you’re not able to go on cases together. spencer’s sweet tooth could probably never be satiated, but if it keeps you around forever he has no problem with that.

angel:

calling you angel is still something he finds a little ironic. he’s an agnostic atheist, has no faith in the gods or whatever power that may be. he’d always say if you couldn’t find it in a textbook then it’s not a real thing. but here you were, defying literally everything he ever knew or thought he knew. spencer thinks that if angels were personified they would surely look like you.

his job has so many moments that put him in near death situations, he’s not proud of how many times he’s felt the pearly gates come for him. but every time he was close to that end, flashes of you would roll through his mind like a movie reel and it would tether him back to this realm.

add to that, you just always happened to be there when he needed you. if he was about to drop a cup of coffee you’d be there grab it, you had his back when you were on the field together, and you’d let him talk your ear off about the most obscure topic just to see him smile.

if proof existed for the theoretical, it would be you. you were his guardian angel, and he never let you forget it.

princess:

this one was rare, only invoked in the super intimate and special moments between you both. usually in the bedroom is where you hear this one used in both sides of the extreme. on one side he says it when you’re being just so needy, so pliant and willing for whatever he wants it just makes him want to give you everything in return. on the other side, when you’re being for lack of a better word, a brat, it’s used as a tease, a taunt for your slutty bad behavior. a reminder that even though you’re spoiled by him he’s still going to give you the world.

it’s also used when you both get dressed up, for an fbi event or a party at rossi’s. it always takes the wind out of him when he sees you getting ready or you come out to show your outfit to him. it makes him feel like falling in love with you again every time, like he’s been so blessed to live a fairytale where he prevails and gets the princess at the end.

baby:

calling you baby is quite literally second nature to spencer, probably the easiest thing for him to do. it slips out all the time people might think baby is your real name. he uses it when he asks what you want for dinner, when you’re upset over something he did at work that put him in danger, when he just really wants you to watch this one russian romance film he finally got his hands on and promises you’ll love it.

you also find it really funny to play songs that you know he doesn’t know that have the word baby in it, because even if he doesn’t know the words to always be my baby to mariah carey, it never stops him from giving you the biggest smile in the universe when he listens to you belt the song to him.

pretty girl:

he didn’t even come up with this one, derek did. stemming from his nickname for spencer, when derek realized that there was something between you and pretty boy, it just became so easy to get under his skin and call you pretty girl, telling him “don’t look now, your pretty girl is coming.”. before you had started dating and spencer was just pining from afar, he would get so red in the face when derek would let the name slip.

after he finally grew some balls and asked you out, spencer adopted the name for himself to use in situations he had you alone, where he could admire you in your entirety and no other prying eyes. to use when you just wake up and the sunlight hits you perfectly like a glowing halo, or when you’re both in the office and you’re explaining something relevant to the case and you just sound so smart and beautiful, and he can’t help but truly believe that the aphrodite reincarnate is his.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid imagine #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x fanfiction

1K notes · View notes

hedgehog-moss · 3 months

Text

I was talking with a friend the other day about how I was fascinated with American school life when I was a teen because it seemed so different from how things are in my country (I knew about US high schools thanks to Hollywood, an accurate and trustworthy source) and we talked about which aspects of US schools felt foreign or strange to us and one thing I brought up was, how American teens only seemed to have like 15min for lunch (I had 1h30 here in France), as evidenced by the cafeteria scenes (no one seemed to eat a proper four-course meal? I definitely never saw a separate cheese course), and I was like, I envied a lot of stuff about US schools but not this

... and I went looking in my old diaries to see if I ever wrote about this, and you know what? I was wrong. I did envy their school lunches which, like almost everything about US schools, felt intriguing and different and cool. The reason middle school-me thought American school lunches were superior to French ones is because, since American teens in TV shows only seemed to get like 4 chicken nuggets and a milk carton for lunch, their lunch tray was very light and they could hold it with one hand under it, the other hand in their pocket or holding their bag strap on their shoulder all casual-like. Sometimes there was no tray, even!

I envied these American teenagers for their lunchtime nonchalance. I would have liked to handle lunch in this cool-cat way but my French lunch tray being loaded with 4 different heavy and breakable plates, I had to hold it carefully with both hands. In my view this was unfair as the hindrance of governmental nutrition guidelines made French students look like uptight nerds, unable to strut around the cafeteria with one hand in our pocket like we didn’t care. Same for the absence of lockers in our schools, we had to carry all our books on our back all day like studious turtles whilst the beautiful 25 year old American teens on my television casually leant against their lockers chatting with friends then strolled around school with just a couple of books tucked under their arm like they were in Dead Poets Society. Thank god there was an ocean between us, imagine a French kid entering a US school cafeteria carrying 3 binders and 5 textbooks in their big rucksack and holding their tray with two hands like a complete loser

Note that these comparisons are quite worthless since I don't know what US school life / food is like in the real world (I imagine it varies a lot!)—I just find it funny to re-read old diaries and discover what was important to kid-me. Discussing these little cultural differences gleaned from US TV series, adult!me is like "yeah I remember being intrigued & envious about a lot of things! Not their school lunches though, they didn't look balanced and nutritious"—meanwhile middle school-me, focused on what mattered, was like, imagine what we could be... imagine being able to hold your lunch tray with 1 hand instead of 2 thus accessing a realm of coolness unfathomable to us in our backward country

#i'm glad i used to spend hours writing diaries... as a kid i never thought i'd enjoy re-reading them later i thought it'd be too mortifying #but no. i'm glad i wrote down for posterity the 4-page-long detailed account of how i embarrassed myself in front of my crush in 2005 #crucial historical document. to me

1K notes · View notes

randomyounglady · 2 years

Text

How come you get to have 80 HDs when my TV can only handle 1?

#joke #adhd #80 HD #HD #high definition #television

0 notes

moonchildstyles · 5 months

Note

gravity blurb where one day flower is sick and doesn’t show up to physics & she hadnt told harry she wouldn’t be coming to class and isnt answering her texts so he skips class to come make sure shes ok and take care of her ?? :,)

wordcount: 3.9k+

—————

Peeling her eyes open, (Y/N) winced at the stream of sunlight filtering into her room. She could feel a cold sweat on the back of her neck, her baby hairs sticking to her skin. Her bed was too hot but her body felt cold, the sun too bright in her eyes, and the quiet of the television on the other side of her wall entirely too loud.

The headache she'd fallen asleep with had definitely taken a turn, she figured.

Groaning—something that made her realize her throat was now sore as well—she tossed in her bed, reaching towards the offending curtain and attempting to tug it closed. Her limbs ached with every move, her bones seemingly creaking beneath the exhausted muscle. If not for how much she hated the light in her eyes and was already hot enough without the sun on her face, she would have given up on the mission just from how much her body ached.

In the back of her mind, as she flopped back onto her bed, she knew she had classes today. If she had the mind to do so, she would have checked the time, seeing just how long she had to get ready before she would have to be on her way, but there was no way she was going to force herself to open her eyes once more after the reprieve of closing them.

She should probably text Harry, she thought. If she remembered what day it was, she most likely had physics this afternoon, and there was no way she was going to make it in this state.

Despite how close her phone was, the idea of reaching for it on the side table was enough to have her exhausted again. She could sleep a little before texting him, she figured, turning in her bed with her eyes heavily shut. She'd wake up soon, and if she still feels this rough, she'll let him know she wouldn't make it to class today.

Just a couple more hours.

With that though, (Y/N) fell asleep once more.

—————

With an iced matcha in one hand and a hot black coffee in the other, Harry made it to Stanfill's class to be one of the first in the auditorium—right on schedule.

He nodded a small smile towards the professor, scaling the stairs up to his and (Y/N)'s unofficial-official spots. He had a feeling she would be traipsing in just before Stanfill locked the door for lecture. She hadn't texted him at all this morning—something she never did unless she was more than busy.

There was a high chance she'd spent the majority of last night working on an essay she had due tonight, and, if he knew his flower, she most likely skipped her morning classes in favor of sleeping off the late night. As long as she made it to physics, he'd make sure to make up the rest of the day for her.

Taking his time to set up his station, Harry periodically checked the double doors (Y/N) usually came through, waiting to see a familiar flash of her hair or one of the many sweaters she'd begun stealing from him through the last months. He pretended to fiddle with his highlighters and notebooks as if he wasn't disappointed when every swing of the doors revealed everyone but (Y/N).

It wasn't until Stanfill had wheeled out his projector and the auditorium was full of idle chatter and the shuffling of students that Harry became concerned. Though she cut it close at times, (Y/N) was never late for any of her courses—and she would let him know if something came up.

That worry only intensified when he saw Professor Stanfill crossed the room and spun the lock on the double doors while the seat beside Harry stayed empty.

Despite his professor whirring to life at the head of the room, speaking with his robotic dialect about today's concept, Harry pulled out his phone. He anticipated seeing a missed message from (Y/N), something to indicate that there was a reason she'd had to skip for the day. Instead, he saw nothing—only the Lock Screen of the pair of them together, tucked in a booth at Wanda's.

No missed calls or waiting messages.

Pulling open her text thread as quick as he could without attracting Stanfill's attention, Harry typed out a quick message before firing it off:

Hey, love. Class started and you're not here, I wanted to see if everything was alright. Stanfill locked the doors, but I can sneak you in if you need.

While he wasn't sure if he was expecting any kind of response when he hadn't heard from her today anyway, Harry's shoulders still fell when the read receipt was left on delivered.

Glancing up, he saw the slides at the front of the class beginning to shift, showing off decades old formatting from Stanfilll's archives. Harry felt antsy.

He wanted to focus on the lecture, continue formatting and adding to his pristine notes, but there was no way he could settle down at the moment.

(Y/N) never did this. While it wasn't odd that she was too busy with her morning courses to reach out to him, there was no way she wouldn't have let him know if she wasn't going to be in class.

Fitting his bottom lip between his teeth, Harry's worry grew.

There were plenty of reasons why she wouldn't be able to reach out, if he let his brain branch out that far. For all he knew, there were plenty of terrible reasons why she wasn't answering her phone or in class with him. It was enough to have him biting down hard on his lip and tapping his foot on the floor.

He could text her again, he decided. Just another to possibly grab her attention. Just from the amount of times he'd studied with her, she could have lost herself in an essay at the library.

Maybe.

Just as he began to type out a follow up message in his unanswered thread, a monotone voice echoed through the room, calling his name.

"Mr. Styles, is there something more important than today's lecture on your cell phone you would like to share with the class? I think we would all be interested."

Whipping his head up, glasses sliding down his nose, Harry spotted the eyes of his classmates and his professor trained on him. He wanted to be embarrassed, feeling all of that attention when he hadn't asked for it himself.

But, there were more important things on his mind.

"No thank you, sir," Harry mumbled, just loud enough for his professor to hear, "I actually have to leave for an emergency. Sorry to interrupt."

Shoveling all of his things into his bag, Harry didn't linger in the space, ignoring whatever Stanfill was saying in his monotone syllables. Stepping out into the main corridor, his phone was up to his ear in an instant.

"Hello?" Naomi, (Y/N)'s roommate, greeted.

"Hi, Ny," Harry muttered, heading towards the student lot he'd parked in, "Is (Y/N) home? Or with you?"

"Oh, yeah," Naomi chirped, "I stayed home with her after I checked on her this morning. She's been a little bit out of it, but did she ask you if you could bring home some notes for her?"

Harry stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, a pinch to his brow. "What?"

A beat passed.

"Have you talked to her today?" Ny asked, finally.

"No. I texted her this morning, but I figured she was busy. Our physics class jus' started, and she never came, so..."

"I'm sorry," she said, "She was out of it this morning, but she said she was going to call you later, so I didn't ask after she fell asleep again. But, she's sick—she fell asleep with a headache and woke up with a fever. She's been asleep most of the day, but I think she's got the flu or something."

Naomi's explanation tamped down one section of Harry's worries, only to raise another. His steps became paces, his free hand running through his hair.

"Is she okay?" he asked, already picturing her prone form alone in her bed, pale and withering.

"I think so," Ny shared, a drawling muse to her voice, "She hasn't left her room much, but I've checked on her when I can. She doesn't really have a voice, but as long as she keeps on top of her medicine, she's able to break her fever and sleep."

Curling his fingers around the roots of his curls, he looked to his feet. "Do—Is there—Does she need anything?"

Ny sighed through the receiver. "I've been trying to make her eat, but nothing sounds good or she just wants to sleep instead."

"Okay," he sounded, nodding his head despite Naomi being unable to see him, "Okay, I can do that. I-I don't have any of our notes, but I can bring her some food if that's okay. Do—Would she be alright with me coming by?"

This time, when she spoke, Harry could hear a smile in her voice, "I think she'd really like that, Harry. I don't know if she'll make any good conversation today, but I'm sure she'll be happy to see you anyway."

A plan was beginning to stitch together then, for Harry. He had some soup he could make at home and bring to her apartment—something warm and not too heavy if she needed something easy for the time being. Was there anything he needed to pick up before he headed over? He was sure there was an extra fluffy blanket she wouldn't mind adding to the collection on her bed.

"Okay," Harry repeated once more, "I've got to grab a couple of things, but I can be over in a few hours if that's alright."

"That's perfect," Naomi encouraged him, "Just text me when you're here and I can let you in. I'll let (Y/N) know to give you a call when she wakes up—if she can, anyway."

While he didn't enjoy hearing that his flower might feel too weak to even place a short call to him, Harry felt soothed knowing that while he was worried about her illness, she had Naomi there to take care of her.

Their goodbyes were quick, Harry already going through the recipe for the soup he had in mind for her, a list coming together for his quick stop at the shops.

Beelining to his car, he typed out a quick message before he was swept up in his plans.

Just called Naomi. She told me you're sick, and have been sleeping this morning. I'm coming by with some soup and medicine for you, flower. I'm sorry I didn't realize, but I'll see you soon.

Love you so much.

He didn't think twice before he pulled out of the student parking lot, Stanfill's lecture and his missed notes left behind.

—————

The apartment was quiet when Ny let him in, Harry suddenly cautious of the crinkling of his bag.

"Hi," he greeted, his voice low to match the volume of the television in the living room, "Thanks for letting me up."

"Oh, yeah, of course," Naomi smiled, locking the door behind him while he kicked off his shoes, "Do you need help with any of your stuff?"

Following her eyes to the bag in his hand, he held a swift debate in his head. While he didn't want to ask anything more of (Y/N)'s roommate after invading her home and pestering her about (Y/N), he also didn't really want to stay away for much longer.

"Actually," he started, taking out the Tupperware container of soup he'd tossed together back at his own place before heading over, "Would y'heat this up, please? Jus' on the stove, or whatever's easiest for you."

Naomi's features softened as she took the container from Harry's hands. "Yeah, I can do that," she smiled, "This is for (Y/N)?"

"Yeah," he murmured, rubbing his knuckle against the tip of his nose, "'S my mum's recipe—she used to make it when I was little and sick from school."

An exaggerated pout crossed Naomi's face, her expression creased and warm as she looked up at Harry with her fingers around the container as if it were a velvet box of jewels. "That is so sweet, Harry," she bubbled, "She's going to love this."

"I hope," he laughed, inching towards the hallway where (Y/N)'s door awaited, "Let me know if y'need help or anything."

Ny only waved him off, urging him to her friend's room while she padded through the kitchen.

Hyper aware of the plastic bag on his wrist, Harry carefully made his way into (Y/N)'s bedroom. The space was silent as he crossed the threshold, her curtains cinched tightly shut with a pile of blankets covering the bed. A tissue box was placed on her bedside table next to a half finished bottle of water and her charging phone. While he couldn't spot her through her cocoon of quilts, he could hear a slight wheezing with every breath she took.

"(Y/N)?" he murmured, voice just above a whisper as he slowly approached her bedside.

No response.

"(Y/N), love?" he tried again, spotting her head through the layers of blankets as he drew closer. Even in sleep, she looked tired, eyes heavy with circles underneath and her mouth dropped in a gape. Given the pile of tissues at her bedside, he wasn't surprised to catch the sides of her nose looking chapped.

Instead of another attempt at catching her attention, he settled for unpacking his bag of treats for her, including a soft stuffed cow he hoped she could find comfort in. A reup of her medicine bottle was placed on her table, a nasal stick to help clear her sinuses with a sniff of the menthol scent, and a bottle of cranberry juice in hopes of giving her some vitamin C. When she woke, he'd show her what he brought, but in the meantime he'd settle for climbing in beside her.

(Y/N) didn't even stir when he cuddled in at her side, body above the blankets though he still fit his limbs around her form. As much as he hated hearing the wheeze of her lungs, and the slight shivers that still ran down her spine despite her cocoon, there was a layer of relief having her back in his arms. He hadn't realized how worried he'd been back in the lecture hall until he could now see she was just fine—albeit a bit sniffly and fighting an off-and-on fever. A tension in his muscles had evaporated by the time he had her cradled into him as best he could through the downy blankets.

He'd have to text Naomi that (Y/N) was still sleeping, the soup could wait. He'd give himself a moment first, though.

—————

"(Y/N), flower, are y'waking up?"

Feeling her features twist, annoyed and hurt that someone would shout so close to her ear like that, (Y/N) only clenched her eyes shut tighter.

A breathy laugh followed right after, filling the quiet of her head with something a little sweeter, even if it was uninvited.

Whatever it was that was bothering her, she chose to ignore it, instead rolling under her blankets and giving them her back. Unfortunately, they didn't seem to get the hint, instead running a hand through her tangled hair, coaxing her to stay awake despite her best efforts.

"You've been asleep for a while, love. I want y'to wake up and at least take some medicine," the soothing force tried again, tone matching their gentle touch, "I even brought y'some soup, if y'wanted to eat."

The idea of exerting the kind of energy required to eat was enough to have (Y/N)'s body feeling heavy, sinking into the mattress. "Don't want to."

"I know," he crooned, the velvet of the faceless voice finally conjuring up a vision of a bespectacled Harry. (Y/N) wanted to shift, see what cardigan he had on today, but there was no way she could roll over again. She didn't have that kind of energy. "Naomi said y'haven't eaten since this morning, flower. I think you'll feel a little better if you at least have a bowl."

"No," she whined, shaking her head as she attempted to burrow that much deeper on her blanket cave. "You're being too loud, Harry."

Another plume of laughter sounded in her room, though it wasn't quite as uninvited as before, now knowing it was from her boyfriend.

"Okay," he relented, voice decidedly softer than just a moment before, "We'll eat a little later, but you've got to take some medicine. I brought something that should help clear your nose out, too."

(Y/N) hadn't even realized she wasn't able to breathe out of her nose until he mentioned that, her throat suddenly dry along with her lips. Through her sleep-addled, fever-drenched brain, she could only imagine just how long she'd been fast asleep with her mouth wide open, only worsening the swollen throat she'd woken up with.

The idea of a small reprieve was enough to have her tossing under her blankets to face him. Peeling her eyes open, Harry was crouched at her bedside, gentle smile on his face with a dreamy vignette framed around him.

"Morning," he teased, "I missed you today."

"Sorry," she croaked, leaning into the warmth of his hand when he pressed his palm to her forehead. She pretended not to notice when he cringed back after a moment.

"Don't need to be sorry," he murmured, a pinch settling between his brows as he reached towards a pill bottle on her table, "'M sorry y'don't feel good, flower. What happened?"

"I don't know," she said, voice slow and drawling even to her own ears, "I thought I had a migraine last night, and then I woke up this morning, and yeah."

Despite promising to stay awake long enough to take some medicine and sniff whatever it was that would clear her sinuses, the longer Harry fiddled with the bottle, the more of an opportunity she had to sleep instead. He'd wake her if he needed her, she decided.

"Don't go to sleep, (Y/N)."

She frowned at his scolding.

"Don't make that face, love," he laughed, "Sit up for me."

Her frown only deepened.

If he said anything more in response, she didn't hear him. Instead she felt the mattress dip around her, Harry crawling up beside her.

Slipping an arm underneath her, he helped her shift under the pile of blankets shrouding her form. (Y/N) let out a whine, unhappy with being moved from the wam imprint she'd left in her bedding.

"Don't be like that, flower," he mused, "Jus' want to help you—your fever is making me nervous."

Instead of giving any kind of answer, (Y/N) only twisted in his arms, cuddling up to the warmth of his chest. She turned into him, shedding some layers of blanket only to lean into his warmth that much more. He hooked his arm around her middle, supporting her with his forearm around her back and his hand conforming to the dip of her waist. Laying her head on his shoulder, she curled her hands into the knit of his top. If he had planned on climbing out after helping with her medicine, that was definitely no longer an option with the way she clung to him.

"Here," he offered, prompting her to crack open her eyes once more to see a pair of coated pills in his hand for her, "I've got some water for you, too."

There was a concerted amount of effort that came with lifting her hand to take the medicine from him, enough to have Harry squeezing his arm around her when he saw how much concentration it took.

As soon as she popped the pills in her mouth, Harry passed along the bottle of water he had at his side, unable to keep himself from helping her hold the weight after seeing her previous struggle. She chugged down the rest of the bottle then, realizing just how thirsty she was, her breathing coming out in pants by the time she pulled the container from her mouth.

"Want more?" he asked, reaching for another bottle he had positioned on the bedside table.

"No, no," she shook her head, already slumping against him once more with shuttered eyes, "Tired."

This time he didn't laugh or seem amused at all at her mumbling. Harry only tugged her tighter to his side, his free hand pulling up one of her blankets to cover her up to her shoulder. "I know, flower," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, "Y'sure y'don't want to eat right now?"

"Just want to sleep," she said, shaking her head against his shoulder.

"Go to sleep, love," he crooned, "I'll be here when y'wake up."

Though it wasn't hard to stay asleep, it was hard for (Y/N) to fall asleep with the ache in her body and the pressure in her head. She needed an extra push, something to lull her to the edge.

"How long have you been here?" she asked, hoping Harry would unwittingly put her to sleep with the melody of his voice.

"Only a few hours," he told her, shifting until she was laid atop his chest as he reclined into the pile of pillows behind them, "After y'didn't come to Stanfill's, I called Naomi."

"In the middle of class?" she blanched, attempting to picture Harry being so disruptive in the middle of lecture.

She felt his laugh more than heard it, rumbling from his chest underneath her. "No, I stepped out before I called."

"And he let you go back in?"

Flexing his hand on her waist, she could feel him shake his head before planting a kiss to the crown of hers. The vibrations of his voice accompanied by the soft of his touch was already working on her, distracting from the ache in her muscles enough to stretch closer to the edge of sleep. "I don't know—I didn't really stay to find out."

"Wait," (Y/N) drawled, her features pinching, "Did you skip?"

"I suppose y'could call it that; I did go, I jus' left early."

"Harry," she whined, elongating the syllables of his name, "Why would you do that? You love physics."

"Because," he started, an affectionate current to his tone, "I wanted to see you. I was worried about you, love. You've never jus' disappeared on me before like that—I wanted to make sure y'were alright."

"But," she attempted to fight, though she didn't have much organization to her thoughts, "It's physics."

"I know," he crooned, a smile audible in his voice, "And you're you. I can make up the notes another day, but I can't make up another day with you, can I?"

It was a sweet sentiment, enough to have her softening that much more. If she'd had the energy, she may have cried, instead opting to burrow closer to him.

"I love you," she blubbered, her words barely decipherable given her thick throat.

"I love you too, flower," he reciprocated, tender notes to his voice, "Go to sleep, I've got you."

That was all the permission she needed to drift off, no doubt that Harry would keep his promise.

Maybe it was the medicine beginning to kick in or the warmth of Harry's hold, but (Y/N) swore she might already be beginning to feel better.

—————

thank you so much for requesting nad taking the time to read this! So sorry if theres any mistakes I missed!!! if theres any ideas or requests you have pleaseeeee send them in :)

679 notes · View notes

pinkhoneydrop · 3 months

Text

LoveIsland: EpisodeOne

Welcome to week one in the villa I’m so happy to see everyone together. I hope you’re ready to spend the summer getting flirty and maybe a little feisty. Keep your goal in mind throughout the week when you make your choices!! - Liz

BIG SHOUTOUT TO @finelinepie THANK YOUUU SOOOO MUCH I APPRECIATE YOU SO HARD!!!!!!

///

You didn't think you would be this nervous when you signed up. You had been a fan of the show for a while and got an ad to apply. At first the idea of charity seemed like a good cause to objectify yourself but after some deliberation with friends you quickly realized that you craved the dramatization of the show.

… “You might find the love of your life, you never know.” Your best friend sat across from you in a local cafe. You explained to her the email you received inviting you to join the show this season.

“What if I regret it?” You laughed at yourself as you leaned back in the cafe chair. A lump formed in your stomach from just thinking about what you had done.

Sending in your audition tape while drunk after a night out was probably not the best idea.

“Promise me you'll go and try it out. Try and find a man or even just get laid. You need it and if anything, you leave with a shit ton of money. What's the harm in that?” ...

Maybe your friend was right. Maybe you would fall into a whirlwind romance with your dream guy. But you might not either and that was fine. Living with your best friend forever if you ended up embarrassing yourself on national television was also fine? Right?

For a while before the cameras started up you sat by yourself. All the contestants had their own vans with an obstructed view of the villa. South Africa was a long way from home. The lush landscape and harsh temperature added to the anxiety of meeting everyone you would be spending the summer with. You leaned back in your chair and closed your eyes trying to prepare yourself. A knock on your trailer door and a high-pitched voice alerted your senses.

“Need you all in 5.”

“Here we go.” you whispered to yourself. You looked in the mirror and adjusted yourself. You were wearing your favorite color and felt like you would never truly be ready, so you fluffed your hair and exited your trailer. Three other girls exit as well. The three of you walked along with some crew members to separate spots and each of you entered one by one to a mini bar. Palm trees lined the edge of the deck and tall tables stood in the middle between the bar and the end of the deck. You sighed as your turn came.

“Oh my gosh hi how are you I’m Leila.” A girl who was much taller than you with a head of dark curly hair smiled and greeted you as you walked towards the bar. “Wow, she's cheery. If everyone is like this then summer should definitely be fun.” you thought to yourself as you smiled at her. Not only was she cheerful, but she was also beautiful. A green bikini sat on her hips and wrapped around her shoulders. You chuckled nervously to yourself. Leila took notice and sparked up some casual conversation with you.

{cut to interview}

… “Hey, I’m Leila I’m 26 years old.” music played in the background as Leila spoke during her interview.

“Originally from just outside Manchester and I'm here to find the love of my life.” She smiles as a blush rises to her cheeks and giggles a little as the camera angle changes.

“The other girls better watch out; I've been known to be a bit feisty back home.” the music fades out and the camera returns to the bar…

{cut back to camera 3}

“It's so nice to see a friendly face first thing. I'm kind of nervous.” your smile weakens as you talk to Leila. Not too long after another girl walks in.

“Holy shit.” Leila says as the girl gets closer. You turn to have a look and almost pass out. Long tan legs leading up to the tiniest bikini bottoms that probably ever existed. Your eyes widened and you were lost for words. The girl spoke before you could even form a coherent thought.

“I’m Chloe.” Her voice was a bit high, but you supposed it might have just been all the traveling catching up to her. You watched as Leila gave her the same cheerful smile that she gave to you. Chloe gave a short smirk and twisted her neck to look at you next. Her blonde hair seemed to flow with her movement.

“Y/n.” You stuck your hand out as you introduced yourself. Chloe just looked at it and headed for the bar to get a cocktail.

“Gosh, a bit cold now, isn’t she?” Leila frowned as she watched her. You raised your brow and decided this might be a long summer.

{cut to interview}

… “Hii I’m Chloe I’m 25 from Glasgow and I’m just living life.” Music plays again as another interview starts.

“I love a good English boy who gives good chat and has pretty eyes.” Chloe winks and laughs at herself.

“If my girls would describe me in one word it would be...Maneater.” …

{cut back to camera 3}

“I hope I’m not the only one drinking today.” Chloe spoke as she set three glasses on the table in front of you. It was odd. At least you thought so, but you took the drink anyway hoping to calm yourself.

“Oh, I’ll absolutely take this, thank you, Chloe.”

“No problem girl.” A large smile graced her lips as she watched you drink.

“Guess I’ll have another one as well. Thanks.” Leila was polite enough to escape a glare from the blonde, but you immediately noticed the tension between them. “Interesting…”

Just before anyone could continue the conversation another girl walked into the villa.

{cut to third interview}

… “I’m Genevieve I’m 27 from Dewsbury but I live in LA currently.” The brunette was calm as she spoke and smiled at the camera.

“I’m trying to find work as a model. Navigating LA life is hard but navigating my love life is harder. I just seem to always find my worst match so hopefully it’s different here.” …

{cut to camera 2}

Her confident stride and striking appearance instantly drew everyone’s attention. Chloe, the first to react, sized her up with a quick, appraising glance before flashing her trademark bright smile.

“Well, look who decided to join the party,” Chloe said, her tone dripping with a mix of faux friendliness and thinly veiled competitiveness. Genevieve smiled graciously, taking in the room. “Hey everyone,” she greeted, her voice smooth and inviting.

“I’m Genevieve. I hope I’m not too late.” Leila, who had been nursing her drink, immediately stood up and walked over to Genevieve.

“Hi Genevieve, I’m Leila,” she said warmly.

“Nice to meet you. Want a drink?” Genevieve’s smile widened.

“Sure, I’d love one. Thanks, Leila.”

As Leila prepared a drink for Genevieve, Chloe leaned in closer to you. “Another model, huh? This should be interesting,” she whispered, her eyes never leaving Genevieve. You could sense the undercurrent of tension in Chloe’s voice but chose to stay neutral.

“Yeah, let’s see how things unfold,” you replied quietly, taking another sip of your drink. Leila returned with a drink for Genevieve, who accepted it with a grateful nod. “So, Genevieve, tell us a bit about yourself,” Leila encouraged, her genuine interest in breaking the ice.

“Well, I’m 27 and I’ve been living in LA for a few years now,” Genevieve began.

“I’m trying to break into modeling. It’s tough and I have to keep the lights on by serving, but I love the challenge. And, of course, I’m here to hopefully find the right guy.”

The other girls listened intently, some nodding in understanding. Chloe, however, remained somewhat aloof, swirling her drink thoughtfully.

“LA, huh? That must be quite a change from Dewsbury,” she commented, a hint of skepticism in her voice. Genevieve nodded, unfazed by Chloe’s tone.

“It is, but I love it. The energy, the opportunities—it’s all worth it.” Chloe smirked, leaning back in her chair.

“Well, good luck to you babe. You’re going to need it.” Leila shot Chloe a disapproving look before turning back to Genevieve.

“Don’t mind Chloe. She can be a bit much sometimes as were learning,” she said with a wink. “We’re all here to find love, after all.” Genevieve laughed lightly, clearly not perturbed.

“Thanks, Leila. I’m looking forward to getting to know all of you.”

You didn’t know how Leila did it. Keep up the niceties with all these women. The relationships right now were all surface. This is the time to be strategically quiet. Or in your case just nervously so. As the conversation continued, the initial tension began to dissipate, replaced by curiosity and a tentative camaraderie. The girls were eager to see how Genevieve would fit into the group dynamics, and despite Chloe’s initial frostiness, there was a sense of anticipation about what the next days would bring.

{cut to camera 1 in a wide shot panning over the girls and host}

“Hello ladies and welcome to the villa. We have you here today in this beautiful villa to hopefully find some love, friendship, or fortune. We have gathered you here on the lawn beside the pool deck to introduce you to the guys.” The sun was high in the sky as you stood on your marked spot. The girls lined up next to you all giggled and cheered at the introduction. You smiled along and tried to calm your nerves. Were they really about to just parade a bunch of hot guys around for you to ogle over? You looked to the right, and you saw Chloe and to your left you saw Genevieve and Leila. Not knowing too much about anyone yet you felt a little out of place. 6 weeks with these people and you would be competing with them the whole time. Not a single one of them seemed to share the nerves building in your body. The camera crew hustled about, and you stood to attention after adjusting your bikini bottoms on your hips.

{cut to camera 3 on the pathway}

“First we have Daniel Jones, he is from south London.” a blonde man with a toned physique who walked down the path leading to the pool deck where the host was standing. “He's cute.” you thought to yourself.

“How are you doing this morning Daniel?” the host turned to speak with him. The sun beat down on everyone but despite that the girls all smiled at Daniel.

“I'm doing great now that I have some eye candy to look at.” Daniel's words came out confidently as he smiled at each of you on your marks. He was definitely fit. Tan skin shining in the sun and a pair of navy-blue trunks on his waist. You eyed him from your spot, and he winked at you in acknowledgement. Heat manifested in your cheeks at the gesture.

“How are you today, ladies?” His voice was smooth, catching your attention and no doubt the other girls as well.

“Alright Daniel, go stand on that first mark and let's see the next guy, shall we?” The host smiled and turned to face the pathway.

The sun was high in the sky that morning as the next guy came out. All of the girls adjusted themselves as the cameras cut back and forth between them.

“Here we have Elias, he is from London but lives in LA. Elias, how are you?”

Elias was gorgeous. Dark hair sitting atop his head and muscles peeking out of darker skin that looked perfectly Sunkissed. He wore deep rust orange shorts and had his ears pierced. You blushed as he caught your eye and sent a small nod in your direction.

“I'm doing alright.” His voice was deep and gravely. You could only imagine what his personality was like as he stood at attention. A couple of the ladies snickered at one another, and Elias smirked at the attention he was getting. Just like Daniel, Elias moved to stand next to his mark.

“Ladies, how are we feeling about the selection so far?” The host spoke to all of you and garnered some exclamations from the whole group.

“The selection is fit; how can we complain?” Genevieve spoke up first. She was beautiful to look at and if you were one of the guys you definitely would want her to couple up with you. Long brown hair with highlights framing her face. As you were admiring her, your thoughts were interrupted by a rather whiney voice.

“Yeah exactly, but I have to say I'm excited for this special guest.” The next girl to speak was Chloe and she turned to give the other girls a light glare as if she were daring them to challenge her. Chloe was a natural blonde with green and brown eyes that peered into your soul. You made a mental note not to get in her way if you could avoid it.

The host continued on and introduced the next man to the group. All the ladies gave him their attention, as it seemed he was a crowd favorite as soon as he was in sight.

“Ladies, this is River Davis from Michigan.”

River was hot, you have to admit. Lighter hair shaved low on the sides and defined muscle tapering into his trunks. Your eyes traveled trying to find a decent place to look that wasn't suggestive.

“Nice to see you, River.”

River smiled at the host and took her hand for a light shake. Turning his attention to the ladies he kept his smile and stood up straight.

“Nice to see you too. Ladies, how are you all doing?” His voice was deep too. Elias might have some competition with this one you thought. All the ladies replied in various ways as the men stood on their marks.

“Before we get to coupling time, we have one more guest joining us. Our celebrity guest this season is…” honey smiled at the group as she paused for effect.

All the ladies waited with bated breath to hear and see who was coming out next. Your breath caught in your throat as you saw brown hair through the bushes.

“Harry Styles!” The host turned and began clapping.

Harry emerged from the trail looking amazing. Tan underneath his inked skin, Trunks resting low on his hips exposing the ferns and a freshly cut head of hair to match his mustache.

“Hello everyone, m’Harry.”

You almost melted after hearing his voice in person. There was just something about him that made you feel at home, and you didn't even know the guy yet. Did you want to get to know him? Part of you felt like maybe you shouldn't, like it would be better to remain a fan of his work and omit yourself from the possibility of him being an asshole.

First choice is coming next episode!!!!

The islanders

@chelseawgnr @rafesfavoritegirl @finelinepie @sunflower-golden-vol6 @unlikelystay @sarah-ev @playhousebunni @gem1712 @indierockgirrl @boldlycoolkitty @wherearethewatermelons @tpwkvickysblog @harrystylesconcepts @superiorfemme @vashapnin @sassamanda77 @henrysteelsmurryme @littlenatilda @devilsqueen722 @ashleighsss @b3ccaaa @x100preme @lomlolivia @fanfictioncafe @racshouse42 @crazygirlinthisworld @harrys-flower @bloodywickedlips @harryshousewitnessprotection @champagnepronlemsxxxx

@harryhad-alittlelamb

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #hslot 2023 #harry styles x black!reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader smut #Harry styles choose your own adventure #love island

628 notes · View notes

steviewashere · 21 days

Text

Working It Out

Rating: General CW: Implied/Referenced Depression Tags: Post-Canon, Future Fic, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Established Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Rockstar Eddie Munson, Teacher Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Loves Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson Loves Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Sad Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents, Hinted Breakup Conversation, But They Work It Out, Difficult Conversations, Talking Through Feelings, Soft Eddie Munson, Discussion of Future For @steddieangstyaugust Day 31 Prompt: "I'm not going to beg you to love me."

🎸——————🎸 Steve is happy for Eddie. Really, he is. Has the whole rockstar thing figured out. On the cover of Rolling Stone, booking late night slots on television, getting recognized in public spaces, and selling out stadiums. It’s the life he’s always dreamed of. It’s what he’s wanted since he was little.

So why can’t he be happy, too?

He thought that, by now, he’d have some part of his life figured out. Now that he’s entered his thirties. That he’s got some sort of college degree. A reasonable resume. The social connections needed to climb certain ladders. Yet, he’s not satisfied. Not pleased the way Eddie is.

The house they have is…too much. Lavish and big and bright. Hard earned, but hardly comfortable. It’s not cluttered like the Munson’s trailer was, it’s not warm and welcoming and the definition of pure and utter comfort. That was home, to Steve at least. It was a change of pace from the house he grew up in—alone and scared and desperate for attention he couldn’t find, instead sprawling between empty rooms that had too many windows and cleaning a pool too big for one person. This new house he now resides in is just that. A house.

By now, he thought that he’d be happy. That he’d be waking up refreshed and ready to greet each morning. That he’d be fine talking to Eddie over the phone, waiting around for those late night rings, trying to catch all the messy postcards in the mail. The postcards that come in random intervals and never actually reflect where Eddie is. It makes Steve anxious that he can’t pinpoint where Eddie is most of the time—left to bite his fingernails until he hears Eddie’s voice, and even then…sometimes he’ll call and won’t get an answer. And it’s no use to leave a message, it’ll be a hotel staff member or a person that’s now paying for the room.

All he does is wait and sleep and eat expensive food. He twiddles his thumbs. He’ll take a car to work, met with the smiling faces of herds of kids he teaches, and then he takes the silent drive home. Where he sits on an uncomfortable leather couch, satin pajamas that replaced old sweatpants a few years ago, staring off into nothingness that’s as ice cold as his chest feels.

He hates the waiting around, though.

Sometimes, he just wants to get up and leave. Search for something else.

But he loves Eddie too much, he knows. He’s not going to do that.

——— The front door opens and the thud of suitcases is heard. Steve leaves their bedroom, red eyed and face puffy. Wipes his nose on the sleeve of his pajama shirt, hands shaking with relief. Relief and anxiety and desperation and…terrible longing.

“Stevie!” Eddie crows, greeting. Arms open wide. Whip-wild smile on his face, eyes big, unshaven jaw. His hair is thrown up into a ponytail, bouncing with his boisterous immediate attitude. “Baby, baby…I have so many stories to tell you. It’s been such a good tour! I can’t”—he stops himself abruptly, arms falling back down at his sides. His voice that was previously so loud, echoing to their high ceilings, now softens. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Did…did something happen?”

Steve shakes his head. No, he thinks, it’s not Vecna. It’s not the Upside Down. It’s just me.

He takes a step forward, then several, and the last couple until he’s five feet in front of Eddie. Oddly, he feels small. Like the kid that greeted his parents when they came home from long business trips, already angry, already disappointed. He wants to curl up into a ball and keep crying, never admitting out loud what’s wrong. Feels that innate, incredibly deep urge to climb out one of the many windows and just run away. Like he tried to do so much when he was younger, heavy lopsided backpack on his little body, discarding letters of anger under his parents’ door so they’ll know he’s gone, and his mind set on a friend’s house—typically Tommy. Sometimes Carol.

But his friend that he’d go to now, Robin, she’s several state lines over. He can’t just up and leave now. He can’t just pack up his car and go. Eddie’s money is Eddie’s money. And even though they made an agreement that the cash is shared, it still would feel wrong to take some of it just to…abandon all that he has now. Which would probably include Eddie. And he doesn’t want to think of that.

His chest is concave and heavy, yet empty—hollow. Like it’s been for months. For years at this point. He takes a deep breath, ignoring how it shutters through him, makes him half-form a hiccup in the back of his throat. “I’m not…happy, Eds,” he admits in a whisper.

Eddie’s eyebrows raise slightly. Eyes growing bigger and concerned. The corners of his mouth pulling down. “How so, sweetheart?”

Steve can’t look him in the eyes. Looking at the floor below his bare feet. The cold hardwood that resembles too much of his parents’ house. He takes another steady-ish breath, almost gasping with it. Rubs his hands together below his stomach, like a nervous kid about to be caught.

“I hate it here,” he chooses to start. “I hate this house. I hate the way it echoes when I talk into it sometimes. I hate having to…” Steve looks up to Eddie. Merely avoiding his eyes, focused on the tip of his nose instead. “…I hate trying to figure out where you are because sometimes you won’t answer the phone, or maybe the postcard you sent doesn’t come in time. I hate that I even have to call you to figure out how you’re doing.

“I can’t just turn over in bed and ask you how your day was. I can’t look you in the eyes when I talk to you because you just aren’t there. I’m so lonely, Eddie. I’m so…I feel just so…Empty.”

What follows that is a tense silence that even the sharpest of knives wouldn’t be able to cut. He doesn’t think flames would melt the tension. Nothing could get through it.

“You’re not happy…because of my work?”

He didn’t say that exactly, but it feels like the truth. Steve nods. “I’m happy for you,” he says, “I am. But your dream isn’t my dream. I honestly don’t even know what I want out of life, but I know this isn’t it.

“I’m just so tired of waiting around. Makes me feel like I’m waiting up for my parents to come home. And you know how that was. You know how I felt being there. Like I had to earn their attention, their love…whatever.” He shifts from side to side, still nervous and stomach turning. His eyes ache from drying out after all the crying earlier. He never thought that being honest would hurt so much. Steve swallows hard. Softly, he confesses, “I’m not going to beg you to love me. I don’t want to do that. But I don’t want to live like this either.” He looks back into Eddie’s eyes, finally. Met with the same miserableness that’s twisting inside of him. It makes his heart drop to his stomach. “So, if me being…if my current feelings get in the way of your dreams, I think we better…y’know.”

Steve doesn’t know, not really. Isn’t sure where he’d go right now. If all of this just falls through. He’d probably have to relocate his job, and he doesn’t want to say goodbye to his class of kids. Maybe he should’ve just waited for all of this to go down.

Instead, he’s met with a soft touch to the small of his back. Eddie leads them into their too spacious living room, on that uncomfortable leather couch, huddling in close to one another.

“Stevie,” Eddie whispers, “look at me, please.”

Hesitantly, he does.

“There you are,” Eddie coos. Soft hands envelop Steve’s right. Thumbs working into the hard points of his knuckles, nails gently tracing over old scars. “Baby,” he speaks softly, “I want to first of all say, thank you for telling me how you’re feeling. Okay? I like knowing things like this, sweetheart. Where you’re at in your head. Where you’re at with our everything. And I need you to know that none of what you said affects our relationship. None of it. If anything, it makes me understand you more. Makes me realize what isn’t working for us.

“But you are my first priority, always. Always, Steve,” he speaks firmly. “And I have to be honest here, too. I’m starting to hate the work that I do. I love creating music, I love working with smaller artists, I like getting out and seeing the world. But I hate doing it all the time. I hate that our days out sometimes gets interrupted by people on the street, or paparazzi cameras in our face. I hate that when we call, you sound so fucking tired from your day at work, waiting for me to answer the phone. I hate that I can’t get mail back from you, already gone before it’d come in the mail.

“I hate this house, I do. Even if we’ve had our fun with it”—he wiggles his eyebrows at that, eliciting a tiny snort from Steve—“it’s too big, you’re right. It’s uncomfortable to me, I gotta be honest. This couch we’re sitting on is fucking ugly and really trashy, even if it cost a pretty fucking penny. None of this us, I see that especially now.”

Steve sucks in a slow breath through his nose. Murmurs, “What are you getting at, Eds?”

Eddie brings up his left hand to Steve’s right cheek, gently cradling it in his palm. Thumb swiping reverently on the dried tear tracks there, the sticky hot skin. “I spoke with the band. With my agent. Told ‘em that this was my final tour. That I quit,” he confesses quietly, “that I’m going to sell this stupid fucking house. Move somewhere more remote, smaller, homelier. Somewhere we can be close to our real family, our friends. Maybe even somewhere we can get married one day. I told ‘em, loud and clear, that I’ve got love waiting for me back home that I know for certain I’m not going to find anywhere else.

“Being in love with you, Steve, has been more of an accomplishment, a brighter dream, and a fucking blessing compared to my first dream. You are why I keep going most days. And I don’t want to lose you over something we’ve both come to hate.”

He blinks at Eddie. Blinks and blinks and blinks. “You want to leave it all behind? Just to be here with me? Babe, that’s…that’s kind of insane, you know that?”

“Uh-huh,” Eddie hums. Eyes giddy and warm. “Guess you could say I’m crazy in love with you, sweetheart. I’d rather be with you. I’d rather stay in a home we put together with our hands rather than picking from some stupid catalogue. I’d rather water our plants while you make a classroom of kids smile. I’d rather greet you at the door, kiss on the cheek, taking your briefcase, ready to make us some warm dinner so that we can watch trashy television shows in our underwear, kiss until we’re fucking gasping, and then be able to wrap myself around you in our bed. Every fucking night. That sounds like more of a dream come true than anything.”

“You’d really leave it all behind, though? Just to be with me?”

Eddie rolls his eyes playfully. “Yes,” he swears. “Yes, sweetheart. A million times—yes! If I have to tell you every day that you’re worth staying for, then so be it. But you’re worth everything, you’re worth more than any riches I make from this crummy career.”

Steve squeezes Eddie’s other hand still wrapped around his. “Okay,” he whispers.

He lets Eddie dote on him, soft and sweet and languid.

And later that night, wrapped around each other in bed, Eddie stroking the bridge of Steve’s nose, Steve’s fingers working circles into Eddie’s hip—they’re content.

“Can we get a dog in our new home?” Steve asks.

Jokingly, Eddie murmurs, “Now you’re asking too much.” He boops the tip of Steve’s nose. But there’s a big, foolish grin on his face. Eyes too soft to mean anything malicious. “I’m kidding, sweetheart. Maybe we’ll go to the humane society in the morning?”

Steve, for the first time in a long while, smiles. “Sounds like a plan, Eds. I love you.”

“Sweetheart, I love you until the universe fucking explodes. And then some.”

🎸——————🎸

#steddieangstyaugust #stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #angst and hurt/comfort #rockstar eddie munson #teacher steve harrington

377 notes · View notes

inkskinned · 1 year

Text

we heard that you were very disappointed in us both as a generation and specifically as a generation of women (emphasis yours), how we had let ourselves go and now we were slutty and ill-tempered and holding onto notions of feminism like "having a savings account" and "equality."

we were very sorry about it, we didn't realize. it is very hard for you, in your life, because your entire definition was centered around the word providing, and that's a really vague and undulating word. it is hard to be a provider. for your purposes, the word provider here can be defined as "having a job", although it sometimes also extends to "doing yard work", "grilling on occasion," and "knowing basic car anatomy."

we had to do some reading but we divided it out. do not worry. high-value women will fill in the rest of the gaps of your life - all those silly feminine things like doing the dishes. we didn't realize we had asked too much when we asked you to pick up after yourself. we did not realize you were rendered small and scared and crying about the possibility of doing the laundry. here is a joke to lighten the sentiment: a man that listens when you talk to him.

we heard about how we had fallen from glory and it sickened us and made us very, very sad. lindsey had to cut all her hair off and tara threw up. we lit one million candles and we are going to have a vigil about it tonight. all of the people in this world that you do not approve of are going to be there and we will all be in mourning colors because we have lost your respect which is of course the only thing that any of us were looking for.

we searched around our bedrooms and our closets and for some of us it took a while but we all found the pricetag that we were originally born with, the one that gave our listing offer, the one that smells like rot and pine needles. we were horrified because many of us had taken deductions and hadn't realized it. i had scraped my knees and decided to be a lesbian so they had to take my voicebox out so i could never call home again. janice had been with too many people overall so we had to put her into the big squisher that will hopefully collapse her walls so that when you're with her, you'll feel so big and powerful. it will be like you're conquering something instead of being close with someone.

we are all going to the funeral of feminism and we will tear at our bodies and fall over ourselves. we will invite you onstage for a live recording of your podcast about the occasional minor inconvenience of self-reflection. you will talk about how we have targeted you and made you feel the sweat slick down your back, and we will teach you basic self-defense out of solidarity.

do not worry, we are seeing to all the outliers. taylor asked to be taken seriously so we have shipped her off to prison. laura asked you to accept her femininity regardless of her presentation. you will be happy to hear all women are now and forever going to have to be small and thin and pretty and white and ablebodied and quiet and unassuming and ladylike, which is different than how society has previously told us to act.

i am going to have to shave off my jawline, which is a little masculine, and they are going to have to reshape my hands, which are very square and thick - all the work i've done with them has made their veins stand out, so we're just going to have to exsanguinate me. i am horrified to have been out in public like this.

we are going to sit around the campfire and we will talk about being weird little girls that made potions in pink teacups. we will talk about the first time we made a difference. we will talk about the private lives of crickets, and then, at the stroke of three in the morning (the witching hour, obviously) - we will all promptly shut up.

and this will be your beautiful world. this silence that spans every corner of every street and every zoom meeting and every alley. i do not think you'll notice at first - it will be the same as every television show and movie and book. we will all just simply sit there in our doll dresses and smile blithely at your advances and none of us will do you the dishonor of answering and none of us will appear to be in distress and none of us will nag you or make a fuss or get hysterical about it. it will just be quiet, and you will say finally, some peace for once! and we will smell of smoke and our teeth will be white and the next day will come.

tonight we are going to bury the last little bits of our humanity. you are not invited. it is going to be ugly.

#spilled ink #warm up #sorry for going missing lol #my week in review:#got in trouble at work #for not being at work during non-working hours #then crashed my car within 2 hours of this #and then less than 24 hours after that #in the hospital with the flu #im okay now but ummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm #who put a fuckken curse on me #btw this rant is trans inclusive love u

2K notes · View notes

arieswritez · 10 months

Note

yandere mark nsfw alphabet😳😳 loved the idea

cw; DARK CONTENT! MDNI!!! rape, breeding/baby trapping, dacryphilia, asphyxiation, abusive 'relationships', edging, predator/prey dynamics, nipple play, kidnapping, food tampering, mentions of suicidal ideation, threats of violence, implied death, manipulation, victim blaming, branding, mentions of incapacitation.

about; nsfw alphabet ft. cray cray mark x gn! reader xx a/n; a couple of u asked for this so here it is :D not edited & straight off the dome so excuse any grammatical errors. will edit if necessary xx

A= Aftercare

'aftercare' with yandere mark is patronizing and condescending. a lot of shushing, wiping your tears, and asking why you're so upset. you asked for this with all your fucking cock teasing. it couldn't have been that bad, i mean, he did make you cum! why can't you just let good things happen to you? ;(

B= Body part (favorite body part their own or their lovers)

mark loves your eyes <3 it's the first thing he's noticed from you. how they seemed to gleam and widen while you gave him your undivided attention. he can't count the amounts of times he had to excuse himself and jack off in the bathroom: imagining how your eyes would water with his cock stuck down your throat. or the way your eyebrows would furrow while he jack hammered into you.

C= Cum

yan mark definitely likes marking you with his cum. he likes to see it dripping off your face, along your belly, your thighs, but most importantly, he loves it when he watches it drip out of you. whether you can get pregnant or not - and good luck if you can - there's just something primal about cumming inside of you. marking you in and out.

D= Dirty secret

he's a masochist just as much as he's a sadist. his little obsession with you caused him to get a tattoo of your name <3 right at his adonis belt 🥺 so everytime he's in too deep,, your hands desperately try to hold his hips back,, and your blunt nails dig into the curved lines of your name. it never fails to make his eyes roll into the back of his head 🫶🏽🤭

E= Experience (do they know what they’re doing)

canon typical mark is (was) a blushy lil virgin but yan!mark has a tad bit more experience. he's attractive, he's funny, he knows how to play into the slightly awkward charm that got you to lower your defenses. so it's safe to say it isn't hard to find random hookups every now and then.

it's not all about his experience. he just knows what you like.

you may not know it, but he's. . done his research. and by that i mean, he's logged into your computer or your phone and looked through your browser history. he knows what kind of porn you like. and some of those things are borderline freaky. here you are, acting all innocent, like you wouldn't hurt a fly. or high and mighty like no one would ever dare snuff out your flame.

who would've known you were such a desperate slut?

but that's okay! because he's willing to do anything to satisfy you. . or humiliate you by making you cum. he feels it takes you down a peg, when he pins you down and makes you cum even though you don't want to. even though your mind is racing a mile a minute, trying to hold your climax back while he plays with your clit/cock.

unbeknownst to you, he's watched you masturbate. knows the right amount of pressure & speed that gets your toes curling. he knows you so well & he can't wait to learn more about you 💕

F= Favorite position

mark loves watching you squirm beneath him. most importantly, he loves taking you down. he might even make you think you can get away. the chase, the constant cat and mouse you'd subject him to used to be torture. your teasing, the occasional sliver of skin as you stretched, the way you'd lay your head on his lap as the two of you watched television, the way you'd grin when he blushed. . and the wrestling. god, the play wrestling.

he used to let you win. but now. . now this is real. there's real consequences. so he makes you think you can kick him off while you flail. maybe even lets you get up and run. your elbows are all scuffed during the struggle and he's given you a busted lip, but he lets you think you've won.

god knows he'll catch up eventually.

the games he'd play made you cocky. you thought you were stronger than him instead of considering that it was just him playing nice. so he loves to watch the look of defeat, of deception, anger, and disappointment towards yourself when it's revealed he could've had his way with you all along.

he loves to be on top.

but sometimes,

sometimes,

he likes it when you're on top. some things never change. and lets just say he didn't always let you win play wrestling just because he was trying to be a gentleman. but because he liked the way your weight felt on top of him as you grinned triumphantly, pinning his wrists down.

now, of course, things have changed. he can't let you have all the control. pity. but he forces you to ride him: his hand wrapped around your throat. he could really hurt you if he so much as wanted to. . something he hisses into your ear whenever your pace so much as falters. he makes you work for it. and it takes longer to make him cum when you ride him. fear makes you clumsy, makes your legs shake more, and you're sore and achy and tired, which makes it all the more fun.

so i think his fave is when he forces you to be on top :)

G= Goofy (how serious are they)

yan!mark teases you a lot. comments on how many times he's made you cum, pinches your nipples just to hear you squeal. he's only ever quiet and serious when he's in a bad mood.

H= Hair

mark's trimmed but not necessarily shaved.

you, on the other hand, have to be shaved. not because he finds it unattractive (if anything, it makes him feral. makes him feel like you're something meant to be conquered, something to be domesticated. controlled.)

hence his decision to have you shaved at all times. it's about control.

he forces you into the bath tub and watches as you shave, making sure you're all pretty for him. no, you don't get a say in the matter. you're his little doll. he'll do whatever he wants to you.

I= Intimacy (in the moment romantic or rough/dirty)

mark is rough. depending on the situation, he may start off slower, softer, easing into you while his words are pure venom. he's grinding into you, making you hiccup, because this type of 'love making' should be reserved for couples. not whatever the two of you have got going on. but of course, he speeds up. roughing you up the more into it he gets.

he's rough regardless of who the object of his affection is, but he's definitely rougher if you're on the masculine side. yan!mark doesn't like to be challenged. he doesn't like talk back. he doesn't like you running around thinking you're big and bad. so he has to knock you down a peg. force you to understand he's stronger than you.

he chokes you out, squeezing your throat until your vision spots. he likes to watch your face change colors. and when your mouth opens, desperately trying to suck in air, he spits onto your tongue 💗

likes it when you - confident, and tough, walking like nothing can ever hurt you - beg him to let you go. beg him not to kill you.

because, sometimes, you fear he just might.

J= Jack off (do they masturbate and how often)

he does! but when he gets you, there's really no need for that <3

when he hadn't kidnapped you, he'd masturbate all the time. it was the only way to relieve himself. like i rambled about before, he'd steal your underwear and cum into them, use them as tissues to wipe his abdomen clean.

secretly takes pictures of you - upskirts if you wear 'em,, or just candids. cums to your most mundane selfies.

if the two of you were close before he kidnapped you, debbie would send you all types of homemade treats. sweet or savory, whatever it was; you loved debbie's cooking. what you didn't know was that mark would add a little bit of his own . . twist to them. when you'd steal bites of his food, you always wondered why his tasted differently to yours.

and the way he'd stare at you as you ate, jesus.

you thought he just liked the way you'd wolf down whatever his mom cooked. turns out he just liked watching you eat his cum.

K= Kink (kinks what they like possibly unusual)

BREEDING!!! whether you can get pregnant or not, he loves the idea of claiming you for a lifetime. of changing your life and forcing you to carry his child. watching you grow round and hormonal. he knows he'd have to keep you on a tight leash; lest you do something you'll regret in order to escape your fate. but it'll be worth it. because after nine months, you'll have another life to look after. you'll be on edge all the time, protecting a fragile, little life, because you can't trust mark to do it.

after all, if you're really bad, he can always get rid of it. start all over again. and you wouldn't want that, would you~?

dacryphilia.

there's nothing like watching you cry. when you'd confide in him about your troubles, when you'd cry on his shoulder, seek solace in his company for whatever reason, and cry. . it'd be really hard to hide his erection. the first time you let yourself cry in front of him was a day he'd never forget. he couldn't stop thinking about it since. wonders if you tear up when someone fucks you. (you do. you will)

L= Location (where they like to get it on)

mark doesn't care where he takes you as long as he's got you. it can be in public or not, just as long as he takes you to the secondary location he'll keep you prisoner in. if it's in the au where nolan & him team up, there will be a compound with all the rebels. you'd be at the top floor in a comfy little penthouse. a gilded cage overlooking the remains of your burned city.

i think he'll first want to fuck you in a place where there'll be no interruptions. if it isn't in the au where him & nolan conquer earth, he knows how to play his role. doesn't want to risk being found raping you. he'll most likely fuck you in a place you hold dear to your heart. your bedroom, could be an example.

because wherever that safe space may be, you won't be able to stand being there without thinking about him.

M= Motivation (things that makes them tick/turn ons)

he likes it when you act so sure of yourself. when someone's a bit cocky and bossy. it's nice to break you.

it is a whole lot easier when someone's shyer, though. wallflowers always blend into the background.

no one misses them when they go missing.

N= No (turnoffs or absolutely won’t do)

there's almost nothing mark won't do to you, sorry ;( even if he doesn't like it. . even if you both don't like it. . he'll always find a way to humiliate you if you've been bad. so it's advised you be on your best behavior if you really don't want him to do some fucked up shit to you. & believe him: it hurts him more than it hurts you!!

all he's ever wanted was to own you.

you were meant for him.

so why fight?

you both know you're not getting out of this alive

O= Oral (receiving or giving and how skillful they are)

mark doesn't always give head unless it's to put you in your place. just to show you that he can make you cum and theres nothing you can do about it.

but he makes you choke on him all the time. he's impatient, forcing your head down and hiking his hips up to meet your face. if you've pissed him off, he'll pinch your nose and hold you down. loves to feel your nails dig into the bulk of his thigh. sometimes, you'll make him bleed. he doesn't care.

P= Pace (how fast they are and how long they last in bed)

mark doesn’t last very long BUT he’s got a very short refractory period and can go for countless rounds. by the time you cum once, he’s already cum like three times and he’s ready for more. by then, he’s already fucked dumb. so your next orgasms will be forced out of you, roughed up and overstimulated as his cum leaks out of you, his cum acting as lube and making the slide intoxicatingly easy.

Q= Quickie

basically non-existent. he loves giving you his undivided attention. and he never stops after one round ;(

R= Risk (do they like to try new things)

he loves trying new things with you. he's spent so much time fantasizing about you that he doesn't even know where to start the first time he gets his hands on you. he'll most likely force fuck you more than once in a day the first time he gets the chance to.

S= Stamina

(see pace <3)

T= Toys

loves using toys on you. if you’ve used them before him, he’ll force you to use them in front of him. it doesn’t take long before he takes control: grabbing them and fucking you with them. edging you. if you cum, then it’s only fair he cums, too, right? and you don’t really like that much ;( so best hold it in <3

U= Unfair (how do they tease? edge?)

mark loves to tease and edge you.

you say you hate him. you can't stand him touching you.

you bite and you snarl, kick and punch, yet when he has you pinned, edging you for hours on end. . you end up breaking. begging him to make you cum. of course, he coaches you through it. tells you he'll leave you alone once you cum, he promises. yet he drags it out for so long. hearing you ask to cum instead of asking him to stop is music to his ears.

except, mark is a liar. you shouldn't trust him.

he just ends up overstimulating you after you cum😒

V= Volume

lots of whispering and hissing, talks very quietly and carefully. you'd think he'd be loud. . but he's not. and despite the fact that he may say vile, disgusting things to you, he whispers them to you so nicely. . if he were saying anything else it'd be sweet. he's so patronizing ;( whimpers in your ear when he's close.

W= Wild card

really into pain.

since he's got his powers, it's not very often that he feels pain. sure, there are some fights with villains - while he's out playing the perfect hero in the mean time - that give him a few flashes of pain. but that's once a blue moon.

nothing compares to you.

you fight him like you're afraid he might kill you. and he might. but it's never his intention ;( he knows what kills and what doesn't (trust him) &, believe it or not, he doesn't want to lose you. but you fight him with such intensity he has to manhandle you more than he'd like.

your hits are surprisingly hard. you claw at him and punch and kick, and he's thought about breaking your legs more times than he can count - he still might if you catch him on a bad day - but then that'd leave you completely immobilized and that's really no fun. because he likes it when you make him bleed. he likes it when your hands slap against his face and when your nails try to claw his eyes out. he wears the bruises and the cuts you give him like badges of honor and he loves to bite his busted lip when he's close to cumming.

he loves it when you hurt him. and he loves it when he ends up winning, anyway.

X= X-ray (size)

5-6in & THICK. really pretty w/ plump balls. he cums SO much.

Y= Yearning (sex drive level)

he's got a HIGH sex drive.

you've teased him for so long he doesn't think he'll ever get enough of you. and there's nothing you can do to stop him. if the two of you weren't close - if the two of you weren't friends, etc. - there's nothing you can do to lay low. you'll catch his attention sooner or later and he'll weasel his way into your life before you even realize it. his intentions would appear pure at first. he'd be so caring, wondering if you're doing okay, and protective; who were you talking to? i don't think they're good for you~

and you listened. because it's mark you're talking about. but if you truly knew him, you'd realize his accusations were actually projections.

Z= Zzz (do they sleep after if so how quickly after)

falls asleep fairly quickly after he's wrung himself dry. but that's only IF he's already taken you hostage. if he so happens to assault you while the two of you aren't where he'd like to keep you, he takes you there, first. coupled with his strange idea of aftercare, he is fairly affectionate. or as affectionate as you'd expect him to be, anyway. always with a hint of menace: he'd hold you tight against him, an arm around your waist and the other wrapped around your throat. making sure you don't so much as think about straying away from him 💗💗

#mark grayson #invincible #invincible x reader #mark grayson x reader #yandere mark grayson x reader #mark grayson brain rot #can't stop imagining mark being an absolute creep #“when will my husband come back from war”#but it's just some psycho #do you think yan! mark listens to deftones #korea & lovers are his songs #mascara is if he's still pretending to be normal #& baby traps u or something #so now u have to get marrieeeddd eee #when he follows in his dad's footsteps #making u a stay at home parent while he saves the world #but ur being held hostage #listen to it now i am in ur walls

1K notes · View notes

mintmatcha · 10 months

Text

one, two, and....

Hanamaki x reader x Matsukawa

cw: cisfem reader, threesome, PIV sex, squirting

a/n: I've been working on this forever and I think it's time to release it into the world. Originally it was supposed to have three different endings to choose from, so maybe one day I'll release the Snyder Cut With all three lol!

"I've been thinking of starting an OnlyFans."

You and Makki turn to your friend, sharing identical blank expressions. Mattsun doesn't crack a smile, eyes never leaving the television screen. With a few swipes of his thumbs, the dark-haired man has knocked your video game character off of the map with absolutely no mercy, forcing you to half heartedly return to playing.

"You kinda gotta be hot for that," Makki chides. He's been dead for a while now, so he just tosses his controller to the side. He's on the other side of his friend, leaning back away from the arm of the couch with a half-cocked smile.

"I am hot. Like, really hot," Mattsun replies, "And I have a pornstar cock."

A heat washes over your face and drains down your whole body. You can't deny it: Matsukawa Issei is hot. Like, really hot. Even in the low light, with only the neon flickering of the television illuminating the sharp angles of his face, he's beautiful. Heavy lidded eyes and thin lips that break into a troublesome grin-- it's almost tragic how beautiful he is.

You'd give your right leg for either of them to think of you as anything other than a 'bro'.

"Shut the fuck up." You're jamming the controller too hard and the plastic whines under the pressure, " 'Pornstar cock.' As if. You're such an asshole."

"Nah, that's true. He does have a massive cock." Makki nods, sticking his tongue through the gap between his canine and molar. He's cuter than his dark haired friend, with round cheeks that dimple when he laughs and round eyes that almost disappear when he smiles. It's a different type of hot-- an imperfect one that you crave all the same.

"Oh, you've seen his dick?" you ask, a bit sarcastically. They did play sports in high school; it's possible a penis popped out in the changing rooms.

"Duh." Makki puffs his chest, "We've had a threeway."

That's news. A sticky, dark feeling clings to your chest. It's wrong of you to want either of them, and yet you want both-- the idea that someone else beat you to it makes your stomach flip.

“It was a good one too.” Mattsun says. He doesn't even bawk, clearly more concerned with the game than this.

“Aww, it’s always good with you, babe.” Makki blows a kiss, with a flourish of his wrist, "That hand job? Phenomenal."

Your character dies in a blaze of color and lights, it's sad little noise soon drowned out by victory music. Mattsun tosses his controller to the side, pumping his fist in a rather calm victory. You quickly exit out of the game and let the opening screen loop, your mood soured.

"You guys are just fucking with me,” you grumble.

“Like I’d ever joke about sex.” Makki sends you a wink and you hate that it makes your cheeks a little hot.

“It’s the only thing he takes seriously," Mattsun agrees. They both elbow each other conspiratorially, sharing a laugh that might be at your expense. Mattsun’s dark eyes flicker to you and his wolfish smile grows toothier as he draws his gaze down, raking over every inch of your body. Oh, they are definitely lying. Your jealousy immediately drains from your body.

“Are you -?”

You interrupt Mattsun before he can even finish.

“Prove it then."

Both men turn in unison, Makki’s eyes wide and Mattsun’s narrowed.

“Prove you’re had a threesome,” you clarify with a shrug. Your voice is dripping with victory and you can barely keep the grin from your face.

“How can we prove that?” Mattsun laughs, “I didn’t take pictures.”

You pretend to think about it for a moment. “Kiss each other.”

“What?” It's Makki's turn to laugh.

“Kiss each other,” you repeat, making a jerk off motion in the air, “You guys rubbed cocks, but you won’t kiss? Really?”

They share a quick glance, communicating silently between themselves with fleeting expressions and pointing chins. Mattsun suddenly scoffs, turning back to you with a raised brow. Neither of them say anything and you know you’re won.

“‘I’m going to start an OnlyFans,’” you taunt, “‘I have a huge cock.’ ‘I’ve had so many threesomes.’ You’re such bad liars.”

Makki moves first. He presses forward on to his hands, gripping his friend’s thigh as he leans in head first. He lingers in the lack of space he's created, nose brushing up against his friends. They share a couple of unheard words before Mattsun closes the gap between them with a lazy tilt of his head, lips just barely touching the others in the faintest of kisses. Before you can claim that a kiss that chaste doesn’t count, Makki moves again, swinging a leg over to straddle Mattsun in a practiced move. You gasp out loud as they meet again, mouths parted and tongue sliding against each other.

Then, it’s a tangle. Mattsun’s fingers are woven into strawberry blonde hair, dragging him closer to catch Makki’s lip in between his teeth. He seems to enjoy the pain; Makki’s hums of approval rumble so deep you can feel it resonate in your chest, filling the space between your ribs with a burning desire. Hands wander, gripping shirts and hips and the back of each other's necks, barely giving them space to pull in a breath. It’s pornographic, the way they grind into each other, rutting like dogs. If it's an act- it’s a good one. Through the thick fabric of his jeans, you swear you can see the outline of Makki’s cock against his thigh, waiting for attention.

You want attention too-- you're dripping for it. You push back into the arm of the couch and clamp your legs together, hoping to smother the want that's built there. Part of you wonders if they’d ever notice if your hand slipped down the front of your pants; they’re so lost in the moment that you think they’ve forgotten you exist.

Just as you debate it, hand on the buckle of your belt, Makki’s head snaps your way knowingly. The dark haired man doesn't stop though; Mattsun's lips immediately latch onto the base of his neck, sucking a hickey on to freckled skin.

“C’mere.” There’s a pitch to Makki's voice as teeth sink in right before his Adam's apple. "C'mere."

There’s no time to hesitate. Makki’s hand clamps around your ankle and tugs, sliding you closer and trapping your legs between the men’s bodies. You barely manage to remain sitting up and you almost immediately regret not falling over. Makki is too close, watching you with a hazed over expression that makes your stomach twist tight.

Somehow, Mattsun is unphased, eyes so heavily lidded that you can barely make out how they flicker to you. At least, you think he’s unaffected, until one of his fingers catches under one of your belt loops. They pull you closer together, folding you until you're angled awkwardly beside them, legs still trapped.

"I-" you start, a pant to your voice. Sometimes you forget how tall they both are, but right now you are very aware; they both tower over you, a hunger in their eyes you barely recognize. "You guys-"

"Dude," Makki's breath tickles against your cheek, "Shut up."

"Yeah." Mattsun agrees into the soft of your neck, sarcastic as always, "Read the room."

The chaos of both of them slowly envelops you. Makki's lips meet yours as Mattsun's teeth nip and all you can do is gasp as every nerve in your body flares. It's overwhelming to be the center of both of their desires, being tugged and pulled back and forth, someone's hands digging into the soft of your stomach, someone else unbuttoning your pants.

When you break away to breathe, Mattsun is there, catching you right where Makki left off. He kisses differently- lazier, slower. His counterpart kissed you so roughly your lips burn where his teeth once were; Mattsun approaches with a feather touch, barely enough to satiate your need for him.

Hands snake across your back and around to your tits, greedily cupping them through your shirt. Somehow, you've migrated, now straddling Mattsun's lap with Makki at your back. Your bra gaps and gives and Makki grumbles in annoyance.

“Issei,” You’ve never heard Makki use his first name before, “Unhook her bra.”

Mattsun finishes the kiss, lingering, savoring, watching with his deep, dreamy eyes.

“Do it yourself.” His voice is practically a sigh. You want to melt into him, sinking into him to slot your mouths together.

"You know, last week Issei over here told me how bad he wants to suck your tits," Makki whispers into the shell of your ear. A warm touch slips under your shirt and your bra suddenly feels loose. You lean back enough to give the blonde enough space to go back to kneading your breasts and this time his long fingers roll your nipple between them, "He's been hard for you for a while now.'

A twitch has started in your legs, trembling tight as the hot feeling inside you screws tighter and tighter. The way your jeans sit gives you nothing to grind against, not even the rock hard cock that's pressed into your thigh. It's thick -- much thicker than you expected.

"I wanna suck them too, obviously," Makki continues, "I wanna put my mouth everywhere."

He pecks your earlobe. "Wanna suck your clit while you struggle to take Issei's cock."

Mattsun hums in approval as he grabs your hips, tugging your hips impossibly closer, "If she can even take it."

That turns your core molten. They want you-- they want you the way you want them. You wish they'd keep talking and blab about all of their dirty whims and wants-

"Yeah," you breathe, "Yeah, I can take it."

Mattsun slips his hand from your legs and ghosts them up to your waistband. The open button of your jeans makes it easy for him to slide in, dipping down under your panties. His fingers are wide, brushing against the cleft of your pussy delicately.

"She isn't shaved." He talks like you aren't there, looking over your shoulder to his friend.

"Oh, I like that," Makki chirps. The ministrations haven't stopped; he's still rolling and squeezing and pinching, watching for what makes you wiggle and gasp. He finds a good motion just as the heel of Mattsun's palm grinds against your clit. Those massive fingers waste no time, forcing their way inside you. The suddenness stretches you tender.

All three sensations combine and suddenly your brain is fuzzy-- your eyes can even stay focused. It's too much, it's not enough; you squirm and you can't tell if you're trying to get away or get more.

"Oh shit," Mattsun chuckles, scissoring his fingers side to side. This time you yelp-- mostly out of surprise -- and that spurs him on further. "There's no way you're fitting me. Fuck, I don't know if you'd fit Hiro."

"You're making me sound shrimpy."

"Shrimpier than me."

"I'm not shrimpy! Dude's like, inches longer than the national average. I've checked."

"You named your cock Dude?"

"Oi, it's a good-"

You cut in, voice flat. You love them both, but the quips just aren't that sexy when you're those horny, "Please stop doing-- that--" Oh, your voice is broken/, "You're killing my orgasm."

"Oh shit, you gonna cum?" Mattsun realizes, grinding back down again. That sparks something in you again, but not quite as bright, but your body cramps at the thought of not chasing it. "You that sensitive?"

"Love an easy girl," Makki chirps.

"I was going to-" You shook a glance between them, both sheepish and grinning- "until you guys opened your mouths."

"Aw, does that mean the threesome is off?" Makki says that as he's lifting your shirt up. You help, letting him strip your top bare.

"No," you admit in a low voice, "I wanna keep going.”

They exchange a look and you swear they are mentally high fiving each other. You wriggle off your pants and they both sudden spring into action, afraid of this moment passing by.

"You should ask Hiro to fuck you first." Mattsun pulls his own shirt off, "Let him stretch you out nice and good for me."

"Nah, fuck Issei first," Makki is quick to say, "I like sloppy seconds."

You don't have to think about it.

"Mattsun."

You're too greedy to wait.

Mattsun dips his thumbs under your panties and gently lowers them as he dips his face into the crook of your neck. There’s a surprising amount of stubble on his face- more than you’ve ever noticed before- tickling the softest softs of you. “These are really cute by the way.”

You clearly weren’t expecting to get dick today; you’re in your full coverage, full butt panties, the ones that hang out in the back of your drawer and digs a bit too much into your hips. “Really?”

He tries to bite back his smile, tongue poked deep in his cheek as he helps you off of the couch and onto the floor. You can’t help but wonder the last time these guys vacuumed as you watch the brunette lay down, urging you on to this lap with gentle hands. You end up on his thighs, just low enough that the lump in his pants is right above you.

"Yeah. They’re like, I dunno, homey. Comfortable. " He runs his hand up your sides. The other man doesn’t join; Makki just scooches the coffee table over with his foot to clear a space for him to watch. His palm is pressing into the noticeable swell on his pants as he watches, eyes flickering between the two of you. Suddenly, your least favorite pair of underwear is your favorite. You can't help but preen and pose, arching your back and cupping a tit coyishly.

"You just gonna sit there and watch?" you tease, even though your heart is racing, “It’s not really a three way without you.”

"Hey, this is free OnlyFans content! I’m gonna enjoy it!” He jerks his chin towards his friend, "Plus, I wanna see your reaction.”

Your eyes roll themselves at that. You turn back to Mattsun, waiting for him to laugh or tease, but he just watches you back, an overly cocky smile smeared across his lips.

“Are we really going to pretend your cock is that big?” You let your fingers trail down his bare chest and hope he can’t feel like them tremble. God, you can see it kick through the denim. It’s getting harder and harder to tease him now that they both know you want this.

“You’re so right,” Mattsun’s voice drips with sarcasm, “I’m tiny.”

He finally pops the top to his jeans and snakes them down. The light blue pattern of his briefs does nothing to conceal the growing sticky stain that's formed on the front. Most of his length is still hidden under the denim, but the bit you can see is….

Fuck, that that cannot be a cock. Maybe a fucking TV remote.

“So fucking small, huh?” You realize you’re making a face when he starts laughing.

“What a shame,” he continues as he frees the rest, “Hot guy with a micro-- you should pity fuck me or something.”

It’s pretty. That’s the fucked up part about it. The head is a soft pink, glazed wet with precum, fading into a surprising tan color. It’s thicker than your wrist, with a single vein down the underside and would be perfect to drag your tongue across. Mattsun gives himself a single, slow pump, pulling a perfect droplet of clear liquid from his slit. With the other hand, he takes your wrist and pulls your touch to his, letting you grip his length. Your thumb and middle finger barely connect.

“Hey, Issei?”

“Yeah?”

Your fingers pulse, testing the firmness. There’s some give-- he’s not even fully hard.

“You were right, this is a pornstar cock.”

Mattsun rolls his eyes and gives you another toothy grin. His legs spread wider, therefore spreading yours too- so far that your labia slips free from the short fabric of your panties. The damp skin feels cold against the air, but the heat of anticipation is making you sweat.

“I told you.” Makki chimes in. You hadn’t realized that he had moved until his voice was rumbling against the fat of your ass. He’s the one who’s spread Mattsun’s legs, crawling in between them on hands and knees to press kisses against your back. “You gonna take it?”

You’re not sure you can. It’s a comical amount of dick, but your pride won’t let you back out. “I’ve taken bigger.”

“Oh yeah?” Your underwear digs further into your skin as Makki tugs it to the side and completely frees your cunt. “‘cause it looks pretty small back here.”

With a squelch, two fingers slip easily into you, reaching and curling deep. A moan hits you like a punch, crumpling you at the waist. Hands on Mattsun’s shoulders, you just brace yourself as Makki eases out and pushes back in, this time a bit slower.

“Are you sure you aren’t a virgin?” He wriggles for effect and your body clenches around him in response.

“Oi, lemme feel.” Mattsun’s hand pushes through the petals of you. Just as you think Makki’s going to pull away to give Mattsun space, the stretch grows more intense; two sets of hands are crammed into you, knuckles brushing against each other, and it makes your vision starred.

“Oh-” Your voice hollows out on you, “My god--”

It’s all you can do to take it, letting them squelch and move and prod asynchronistically. It’s clumsy and strange and honestly a bit weird, but your body seems to disagree; excitement is literally dripping from you, running down your thighs and smearing across their hands, popping and slicking and practically leaking. They’re treating you like a toy, you realize, exploring instead of trying to please you.

Someone's talking. Your brain tries to fight through the fog of pleasure to figure out what's being said, but the pulses and twitches of pleasure running through every muscle in your body are simply louder. Everything inside you is teetering towards the brink in a way you're never felt before. It's not like any other pleasure you've ever felt-- it's internal, it's uncomfortable, it's----

And everything lets go. You're cumming, you think. You realized your eyes have been closed this whole time, too absorbed in what's happening inside you.

"Ohmygodohmygod." It's been your voice this whole time. When you finally come down, you realize the two have gone still, just watching you.

"Damn." Makki whistles low."Do you always squirt?"

Oh, you burn with embarrassment. You tey to close your legs but there's two men in between them. "I've never done that before."

"That's so hot."

“Fuck,” Mattsun is trying to angle your hips with one hand and adjust his cock with the other, angling for your hole, “I’m gonna cum so quick, it’s gonna be embarrassing.”

Trepidation turns your stomach. You're wet all the way down your thighs, but Mattsun is a monster-- it's going to ache no matter what.

"Go slow, okay?"

"Aw, you'll take what I give you." Mattsun rolls his eyes with a smile, running his cock head through your folds. His cock slips and misses a couple times, prodding where it shouldn't be.

"You're embarrassing me," Makki whines, "Let me fucking do it."

Two fingers spread your pussy lips open wide. You can't see, but the strawberry blonde must be holding his friend's cock now because it immediately finds where it wants to be; the head catches against your opening and sinks in ever so slightly. You have to will yourself to relax and not fight the intrusion-- even though the stretch is wild//.

"Hey," Makki taps your thigh and you realize you're shaking. The pleasure and the discomfort are different sides to the same coin- both make your toes curl and your breath hitch as Mattsun sinks deeper and deeper.

"You have a pornstar pussy, baby." A finger runs over where your body meets cock and you can feel how taut you're stretched. Your body pulses at that realization and it rips a groan from the man under you. "It's so sexy to see you get ruined like that."

"Oh, it feels so fucking good too," Mattsun gasps. He looks so good like this, with pink cheeks and sweat touched hair. His pretty lips are pressed together with effort, trying to hold himself steady and he carefully gives you more and more.

Fuck, you swear you can feel him in your guts and he's not even halfway in. Your toes are curling from the pressure alone, but you refuse to make any noise about it; you’re not going to stroke his ego anymore. You can handle him putting it in-

"I'm gonna eat your ass-- is that cool?"

Makki doesn't wait for a reply. The sloppy wet prod of his tongue against your skin is the breaking point. It feels strange and wrong in the most delightful ways and your body absolutely betrays you again; your head is absolutely swimming as you bump and grind into both men, taking more cock than you can handle as Makki defiles you-

“Yeah, squeeze tight,” Mattsun is jerking his hips up, driving into you with short strokes, “Holy shit, girl, you’re gonna make me look fucking stupid-- squeeze, that’s it--”

“I'm going to fuck you the second Issei is done with you, I swear to god--”

That sounds good to you. That sounds very good. You hum a little agreement, and Makki just laughs.

Hands are pressing down on your hips and you swat at the brunette in panic-- only to realize it’s not his hands that are rushing you. Makki, as he sucks and slobbers, is urging you down faster and faster, trying to get your hips against his friend’s. You try and obey, letting him greedily force you down, but a sharp twist of a cramp slowly starts to twist inside you.

“Hiro--” Mattsun sucks air through his teeth, eyes screwed tight, “Hiro, youch, she’s full. I’m touching her cervix.”

Your hips feel like they are miles away from Issei’s. Holy shit. Holy shit. It should be illegal to be that long. It hurts, it makes your insides twist--

But, damn, you kind of like it.

You press up on to your knees and sink down again, locking into the gentlest of rhythms. The aching slow movement is enough to make your body spark, electricity thrumming through your core and up your spine. The man under you can only watch, those puppy dog eyes wider and wetter with every stroke. Eventually he starts moving with you, bucking up into your cunt hesitantly.

The two loudest, most annoying men in your life are now silent, too focused on you to do anything else. All three of you just sort of click into a groove, grinding and bucking and loving and squeezing, your body coiling tighter and tighter, every muscle twitching and tense with need-

Somehow, you don’t cum first. Mattsun’s hands are suddenly everywhere, gripping your ass and rolling your nipple under his thumb. He fucks up into you hard and that sharp cramp returns, followed by a familiar pooling, wet warmth right against your deepest parts. You can feel the throb of his cock as he unloads, giving you every fucking drop he can. Issei’s lips are parts with effort, teeth marks imprinted on his lower vermillion. There’s almost a haze to his eyes, caught in his pleasure and still looking for you.

“Oh, shit-” he hisses mindlessly, “Oh, fuck, shit--”

It’s dripping from you and down Makki’s chin.

“You on birth control?” Issei asks weakly, all tension drained from his body.

“It’s a bit late to ask that,” Makki chimes in. The thinner man pushes you forward, shifting your weight onto your hands. Like this, Issei’s softening cock can’t stay in- it slides out with a dribble. Mattsun is now so much closer now, his face nearly nuzzling yours. Your eyes meet his, dark and tired, and you’re struck by the urge to kiss him properly.

You’re then struck by the sudden sensation of being stuffed.

Despite their teasing earlier, Hanamaki is //not// small. He's not inhumanely big like Mattsun, but you're aware of every inch, pressing almost as deep as before. The squelch of cum being displaced from you is loud and disgusting, but all three of you reveal in the sound.

“God, I love a fresh fucked pussy,” he coos. “You’re gaping and messy, baby.”

Where Mattsun moved slow, Makki does not. He's rutting into you hard, pushing you into Mattsun's chest. The man below you kisses your cheek with a laugh, clearly enjoying the faces you're making. You're wet down to your knees, smeared with a mixture of bodily fluids, and it offers no resistance for Makki as he enjoys himself.

It's like you're a toy, being used just for him pleasure, and you're body can't get enough.

“You gonna cum?” Mattsun asks mockingly. He just enjoy the sight, watching your tits hang against his chest. You almost say no, even though you're dangerously close to the edge again. “Ah, don't rush yourself. Hiro can last all night if you need it.”

“Hm, I'm just trying to give you some time to recover before round two,” Oh, you hate that he doesn't even sound phased, “I'm pacing myself.”

“Oh yeah?” Mattsun says.

Makki thrusts even harder, accenting his words. “How else are we supposed to go all night?

1K notes · View notes