#I don’t like calling guys that but it makes it simpler

[oscillatingdichotomy]

I don’t mind this ad bc I want all of them to work out my hole

[tired-biscuit]

Logan would probably moan like he’s having the best sex of his life from just a shoulder massage. Do you think he’d deny he needs one? Or would you catch him off guard while he’s asleep?

18+ MDNI, fem!reader // cw: friends to lovers, unexpected mutual pining, logan realises he’s touch-starved after you offer to give him a backrub, and you both get turned on by it.

divider credit: div1nepetal

what if you’re, like… his friend, who’s grown to care deeply about him over the years and wants nothing else but to help him out a little from time to time in simpler, more ‘humanly’ ways because of said caring?

i mean, he’s got super fast healing and all that jazz, sure, however that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t get sore and thus — unbearably — cranky about it… and since you’ve known each other for so long, you’ve also gotten quite comfortable in each other’s company! so it wouldn’t be that odd if you were to offer to relieve the pain in your friend’s back when he swings by your place one random evening… right?

it’s really just to make him feel better, nothing else! because as soon as he flings himself onto his favoured spot on your worn out couch (a dent that he fucking made with the help of his heavy adamantium ass), you catch him repetitively stretching his neck from side to side and rolling his shoulders every so often with a furrowed brow and a tight-lipped expression that somehow manages to appear even grumpier than his usual neutral.

you steal glances because of it. listen intently to the laboured sighs he keeps letting out. and after leering at him and his struggles from the corner of your eye for a little while, not at all paying attention to the movie that you’re supposed to be watching with him, you finally succumb. you turn to the side and propose your offer whilst wiggling your magic fingers, as you like to call them, right in front of his face, and logan, as is expected, denies it by gently swatting your hand away.

taking over pretty much the entire space on the couch from how he’s manspreading, he doesn’t even peel his eyes from the television that — unlike you — he’s actually watching when he tells you that, “you don’t gotta worry about it” and that it’s not that bad, then. for some reason, he even feels the need to add that he can handle himself just fine.

it all makes your eyes roll.

and instead of listening, you rather choose to persist. he’s a wall whenever he makes up his mind on something, you know this, but you also know that if you nag him and scold him for long enough, prodding and picking at the cracks between phantom bricks, he’ll have no choice but to give in and give you what you want just to make you stop… though not without adding a snide comment or two himself during it because he can’t help but act like a dick sometimes around the people he’s fond of, it’s just the way he is!

as you tell him to scooch over and lay on his stomach, you feel just a little bit bad that you had to resort to annoying him in order to being allowed to help him. however, the guilt isn’t nearly as strong as is the sense of victory that you’ve just achieved, so you allow it to curl the corners of your lips into a satisfied, cat-like smile while you busy yourself by straddling the small of his back. he can’t see your face anyway, so what’s the issue?

meanwhile, logan lets out a tired exhale, smushing one cheek against the decorative pillow that he’s folded his arms under so that he can still watch the tv while you work your supposed magic. he listens to your sheepish apology and request to tell you if you’re too heavy, to which he responds by calling it nonsense and that you’re insulting him by thinking you’re heavy whilst sitting on top of a guy who’s literally filled with metal.

and filled with metal he is, indeed! it’s not long before you realize just how much freaking pressure you have to apply to his shoulders and back in order to make him feel something. how much physical strength you have to put into it, to the point that you’re nearly sweating because of it. popping a bone in order to ease some of the tension is literally impossible, so you aim your focus onto the taut cords of muscle instead.

you can see them even through the thin white shirt that he’s wearing — they’re that profound. flexed and attractive, attained with hard work. but they become even more visible when he reluctantly lets you roll the hem of his shirt up towards the collar, unfolding his arms just so that he can lift the upper half of his body, and you right along with him, with no visible effort whatsoever.

the air in the room shifts a little after that; it gets kind of tense. because all of a sudden, you’re skin to skin. his should be covered in scars, but he’s lucky enough to have them all healed and smoothed away by his power. and while he may not be able to feel relief in his adamantium-covered bones, he sure as hell can feel the warmth of your palms running down the slopes of his broad shoulders, the grazing of your nails that nearly makes him shiver when they reach a particularly ticklish part on the nape of his neck, the heat between your legs as you continue to sit on him, dressed in nothing else but a pair of comfortable and tiny shorts…

forcing himself to be a loner, logan isn’t used to being touched like this all that much, and it makes him sensitive. and as a result, he can’t help but squeeze his eyes shut and groan in absolute pleasure when you readjust by wiggling your hips on top of him and lean in super close to really dig your fingers into his strong back.

you pause at the sound; he can hear your breathing hitch a little before it continues to fan his shoulder blade. he’s already halfway on opening his mouth to say something in order to avoid things from getting too awkward even if he’s not the kind of man who minds if they do, when all of a sudden it hits him.

it’s barely there, just the faintest whiff of something sticky and sweet. it would be impossible to catch by a normal human, but he isn’t a normal human, now is he? no, he’s a mutant — a primal one, at that — and because of it, his nose is more than capable of catching a scent like this.

you’re… aroused. have gotten turned on by the sound he just made. are getting wetter between the legs by the second. and he can smell it.

fuck.

logan chooses not to say anything even if the pheromones that he’s steadily inhaling now are making his blood grow feverish to dangerous levels. meanwhile, you choose to remain quiet as well, simply continuing your ministrations as if nothing has happened.

something that does change, however, is the way you touch him. from that hiccup onward, you get more, should you say, intimate with it; even daring to comb your fingers through his rich, dark hair at some point and experimentally tugging at the roots, making him actually shiver this time.

he doesn’t just shiver, though. the action is so freaking good that it also causes his eyes to roll into the back of his head — he silently prays that he’s managed to squeeze them shut for a second time before you could catch it.

and that’s not all there is to it either. by now, his cock has become painfully hard in his pants. thick, hot and leaking pre-cum from how excited he’s getting. it makes laying down on his stomach extremely uncomfortable, but he thinks it’s better to suffer through it than enabling you to see what you’re doing to him both physically and mentally.

mind fogged by a mixture of your and now his own lust, he’s getting so horny that all he wants to do is rut into the couch while you continue to touch him. he doesn’t, of course, he’s been around for over two centuries so he’s pretty good at restraining himself, however that doesn’t mean that he likes doing it.

so he remains decent… well, somewhat. he pants a little bit, and he grunts and curses under his breath in a way that makes him sound like he’s balls deep in your cunt, folding you in a mating press and pounding away until you’re nothing but a whiny mess and his cum is trickling down your thighs, but he still tries his very best.

by the time you pat him on the shoulders and tell him you’ve finished, he fears he did, too.

[garfunklefield]

jjk men reacting to you wearing pheromone perfume and it makes them feel a certain way? chousou and getou please!!!!

Love me, girl..

JJK Men reacting to you wearing pheromone perfume! [Choso, Geto, Gojo, Toji]

18+ viewer discretion is advised

fem!reader/JJK MEN Warnings: established relationship, drabbles kind of, suggestive content, Geto breaks a door, Clingy!Satoru Gojo, Toji is just pure fluff sorry ;P Word count: 1645 DESC: JJK MEN's reactions to your new perfume!

REQUESTS ARE OPEN AGAIN!!!!

This isn't super explicit but I thought you'd appreciate it anon!!

Also follow my spam if you want unfiltered funkle @garfunkle8008

Choso Kamo Whiny!

Choso was instantly intoxicated by that … that scent. It was hard to ignore as you walked through the door, busy on a phone call for work. At first, something sweet made him perk his head up and watch you stride into the kitchen. But it was strong. It filled his head and his senses for hours, although they were mere minutes. It was chocolate, with a hint of cinnamon. That smell was almost nostalgic as it brought him back to a simpler time with his family. However, the nostalgia turned into something else when you sat beside him. 

Innocent thoughts of cuddling next to you and inhaling your new scent were turned into things that were making his cheeks begin to flush. Kamo wasn’t inherently horny, in fact, he had the lowest sex drive of any guy you had ever been with. So he was surprised by the sudden arousal building in his pants. All from a smell? No, it had to be something more than that. Maybe he was ovulating? No, men don’t do that… Maybe he was just due to masturbate?

Your hand brushed over his knee, your body scooting closer to him as you began to speak delicately about your day. Your boyfriend, try as he might, wasn’t listening in the slightest. All he could think about was the warmth radiating off of your body. And that damn smell. It was making the man salivate as he tried to pinpoint exactly where it was coming from. Not your neck, no, not your arms… Was it…? 

Choso snuck a very shy look down to your mini skirt, barely hiding the plush fat of your thighs. A lump formed in his throat as he stared; That’s where the smell was coming from, huh? His hand trailed down your thigh until he reached the end of your skirt. Slowly, he snuck his fingers underneath the fabric, until he was feeling up to your underwear. 

“Choso?” Your soft voice broke through his thoughts, causing the man’s face to tilt to see yours, flushed with embarrassment, “What are you doing?”

“You have a new perfume, huh?” He raised an eyebrow, “I wanted to… smell it.” It was a lame ass excuse to get into your pants, but whatever you did was beginning to drive him absolutely insane. Within seconds, he wrestled off your pencil skirt and then tossed your panties, you wouldn’t be needing them anyway. Your legs, they were spread perfectly for him as he gazed into your pussy. That’s where it hit him. You must’ve doused your whole body in this shit, and god was it amazing. Choso didn’t even want to move, the angle he was at, pressing his face into your thigh, was perfect enough to inhale you. To practically taste you without savoring you on his tongue. Not yet, no he was going to have fun with this.

Suguru Geto Impatient!

Suguru noticed you had been taking an extra long time in the shower. It wasn’t anything unusual, you were probably just shaving your legs. But something about it today was setting him in an impatient mood. He stared at the door and felt his leg bounce, hearing you hum and smelling your body wash waft into the air. Or at least, he thought it was that. Something about it was different, like honey but stronger. It captivated the air and made him stop for a moment. Was this new? Was this the right body wash he bought you yesterday?

He wasn’t complaining. Actually, he was rather content smelling you from there, sitting on your bed. After a moment, he cleared his throat, “Honey, are you almost done?” The man didn’t expect a response, seeing as you were busy doing something in there. He wasn’t expecting your voice to sound so … different. 

It was angelic how you laughed through the door, “Almost, dear!” You called out in the way you always did, but why was it so different now? Why did it send butterflies through his heart and a burning sensation down his pants? There was something wrong with him. Suguru stood and ran a hand through his hair. Maybe if he just saw you he’d feel normal, instead of these urges. It was the usual arousing urge he always felt when he got in the mood. Wanting to take you and make you his, breed you until you choked on his cum. Hold you close and slowly thrust into your warmth, grab your neck, and pull you into a messy kiss. 

The man went to the door and pressed his forehead against the wood, “Honey…” He whispered, voice threatening to rasp against his throat, “Open the door.” Your response was something basic like ‘Huh? Speak up!’ but it was killing him. Being this close and not even being able to touch you, let alone see you. And smelling you. This scent. It was honey and pure, melted, sugar. He could practically taste it on his tongue, as his hand grabbed the doorknob and twisted it. Suguru was surprised to hear it jam. You locked it. 

Geto pressed his lips together and turned the doorknob again, “Honey,” his voice was louder now as the doorknob snapped and opened with ease. He’d be replacing that later. He pushed the door open and stared at you, water-slicked hair clinging to your forehead as your bare frame was seated on the side of the tub, shaving your legs. He could see your back, rolls of fat perfectly seated on your sides into love handles, and your ass, perked up on the edge of the bathtub. 

He was going to make sure you couldn’t walk after this.

Satoru Gojo Handsy!

Satoru was already clingy, that was a fact. His best friend was so relieved he found you to take on the responsibility of babysitting him, so he wouldn’t have to. You didn’t mind, in fact, you loved being able to spend time with him. And he loved it more than you’d ever know. He’d religiously check your location until you arrived home, so he could pester you until you were seated in his lap watching movies until the latest hours of the night. Did he have a problem? Maybe! But he didn’t care. 

When you came home from being out with your friends he was in the kitchen preparing dinner. At first, your new perfume didn’t hit him, that was until you brushed your form past him to grab the salt for your meal. It made your boyfriend pause and stiffen in his tracks. This was a new one, and this wasn’t a scent he had bought you. The obvious cheating thoughts ran through his head before that smell started to clog it. Mint and chocolate were filling his senses and making his head turn to you. When did you start wearing that lipstick? Was that new too? He never noticed your lips and how full they were… Or how your eyelashes clung to your cheeks when you looked down.

“Hey,” you felt your boyfriend's body press against you from behind as you tried to assemble your salad. Large and lanky arms wrapped around your torso and pulled you in, making your own mind blank as he continued with a soft voice in your ear, “When’d you get this new perfume?” Satoru’s nose pressed against the back of your ear, with his lips practically ghosting your skin. 

“I got it today at the mall, it’s nice right?” You replied, moving away from his grasp to grab the shredded cheese for your monstrosity of a salad. Gojo let a frown pull at his lips as you moved away, staring at your body as he attempted to make a new plan. Every part of his body was on fire unless he was clinging to your side. This was normal for him, but now it was intense. More intense than usual. It had to be that perfume. 

“So…” He purred, grabbing both of your shoulders and pressing himself back against you, “Why don’t we eat this stuff in bed?” On any other person, this level of seduction from this tall hunk of a man would have made them melt. But you were used to it. So instead of swooning as he hoped you would, you giggled. 

“Sure, just don’t get any crumbs on my side, okay?” Damn, this was going to be harder than he thought.

Toji Fushiguro Straight to the point!

Toji was already on you as soon as you got home. It was less than a minute before he was taking hold of you and pinning you to the wall, pressing his face into your neck to inhale that holy smell. For him, it was less arousing than it was comforting. The rest of the guys on this list felt more lust than love, but I think Toji would be the opposite. 

He had a rough life, and when you came in and graced him with two beautiful children, he was forever grateful. It was hard for him to show how much he loved you, instead opting to show it in physical ways rather than being vocal. Smelling this on you, and holding you close as he did so was his way of hoping you’d never leave. Pressing his body to yours and cradling you close. He never wanted you to go. He never wanted you to turn away and tell him you didn’t love him because Fushiguro wasn’t sure what he’d do if he was alone. 

“I love you,” he muttered, tightening the hold he had on you. You let out a breathless laugh, mainly from the fact he was stronger than he realized with his grip, and wrapped your arms around him. You were different than him, but you both loved each other regardless. 

“I love you more,” you smiled to which Toji pulled back with a frown.  “No bitch. I’ll never stop loving you.”

[seeingivy]

narc

actor!eren x reader

**part of my method acting series

--

When you open the cabinet and pull out the box of chamomile tea, there’s a note with Eren’s distinct handwriting scribbled across it. 

Boil the water for six minutes.  Add one teaspoon of the dried flowers.  Let it sit for five minutes and then strain them out.  I usually add half a teaspoon of honey to sweeten it up for you :) 

You can’t help but look up at the frame on the left – a picture of you, Marco, Maya, and Eren – with the godawful cake he got you guys last year. 

Happy New Year Birthday Anniversary 4 

It seemed that too many big things coincided on the first day of the year. Marco and Maya’s birthday, you and Eren’s anniversary, the start of the new year – so much so that Eren decided that they all deserved one big cake together. 

You rub at your tired eyes, lazily smiling at the post-it as you pull it off the top of the box, and stick it back onto the counter. It’s a quiet solace, seeing his handwriting every time you pull the box out and you can’t bring yourself to throw it away. 

You think it’s a little silly that at your very big age, Eren left you instructions on how to make tea. Sometimes it just makes you miss him more. 

You follow Eren’s quick instructions – his recent absence making you realize just how much it is that he does around the house – and open up your phone to see his location. 

He’s gone, still two thousand something miles away in California, at the hospital. You count the hours backwards, realizing that it’s probably midnight his time so he must be fast asleep and decide against calling him. 

You lean against the counter, your neck still slick from the cold sweat you woke up in, as you recount flashes of the dream you’ve been having for the past three nights. 

The dark freeway, a long white truck, and a blaring horn. 

The kettle clicks shut and you pour the water into the cup, watching the dried flowers seep a golden color to the liquid as you let it sit underneath the coaster. It must have been the pouring of the water, because you entirely miss the pitter patter of tiny footsteps – meaning, it catches you completely off guard when Marco’s wrapping his arm around your leg. 

“Can I have some?” 

You almost drop the kettle, your heart immediately racing from the shock of his presence, as you set it down, taking the few seconds to catch your breath. 

“Sorry. Did I scare you again, Mom?” he asks. 

You sigh, reaching down to lift him up onto the counter. 

“No, Marco. I was just distracted, honey, that’s all.” you respond. 

Marco gives you a distracted nod, messy brown hair and dull green eyes looking down at your cup, as he fiddles with his hands in his lap. Just like Eren. You reach forward, brushing through the tangles in his hair as you eye the clock. 

“What are you doing up?” 

“I thought you were Dad.” he responds.

You sigh, giving him a joking glare, before reaching forward to pinch his cheek. 

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, little man.” 

Marco gives you a smile, as you reach for the closest cabinet, and pull out the plastic glasses to pour some milk into. You set it to warm on the kettle, as you pour the honey into your cup, and swirl the spoon around. 

“Do you know when he’ll be back? Dad?” Marco asks. 

You pause. 

No. You don’t. 

“It’ll be soon, I’m sure of it. He’s just waiting to make sure that Uncle Connie’s perfectly set up before he comes back.” 

That was a half lie. Though, you found that you had to do that often – lie about things that were too difficult to explain to the two of them. 

Things that were too complicated, and more often than not, things you just wanted to protect them from. 

That they were just too little to know about. 

Marco and Maya asked you how their namesake, the real Marco died. It was easier to tell them that it was just a car accident, not intentional in how it occurred. They asked you why Eren had a bunch of faded lines on his back when you went swimming in the pool; it was just simpler to tell them that it was a birthmark. 

They asked who Teddy’s real father was and told him that it was Sukuna. Though that one wasn’t entirely a lie. But you know what they were trying to ask. 

And just two days ago, Maya asked you if her Uncle Connie was going to die. You told her that he was just getting a checkup, but that was the farthest thing from the truth. 

Years after the fact, it seemed that the poison that Connie was putting into his body had finally caught up to him – with not only one, but two defective kidneys. And after three years on the waiting list, by some horrible twist of fate for someone else but luck for all of you, Connie was finally getting his transplant. 

That was almost three weeks ago. He’s still recovering from the surgery – having taken a whole week to wake up, another one to sit up, and now trying to walk the corridor at the ward he was in. 

You had to let Eren go. You knew that he was going to be apart from you and the kids at some point and figured that this was the best time to get over that fear of being away from him, in the soft little bubble you’ve created for yourself. 

You shake the thought from your head – of Connie sitting there, frail and alone the last time you talked to him, since visiting hours were well over – and pour the milk into the cup. You hand it over to Marco, placing the cup securely in his hands, as you try to quiet the thoughts racing through your mind. 

Five things you can see. Four things you can touch, three you can hear, two you can smell, and one you can feel. 

Eren had whispered it to you when you dropped him off at the airport, a quiet thing he did to manage his own stress. 

“What are you thinking about?” Marco asks. 

You sigh, turning over to him, and giving him a smile. 

“Five things I can see.” you respond. 

Marco was well aware of the habit. He tended to be a little more sensitive which was worrying at first – but Zeke said that it was just something that he got from Eren. That he acted exactly like he did when he was a kid. 

“I can see you. And me. The cups. And two lightbulbs.” Marco responds. 

You smile. 

“I can touch the floor with my feet. And the back of the counter with my back. The cup with my hands. And your cheek with my fingers.” you respond, reaching forward to poke at the softness of his cheek. 

Marco returns the favor, giggling under his breath as he reaches forward, tiny fingers squishing at your skin. He absentmindedly leans forward, pressing a wet kiss to your cheek, before he continues. 

He was every bit as affectionate as Eren. 

“I can hear you. And me. And Maya sleeping.” 

“You can’t hear Maya sleeping from here, Marco.” 

“Yeah, I can. She’s all snotty at night.” 

“Honey, those are her allergies. She can’t control that.” you respond. 

If Marco acted like Eren did as a kid, then Maya was every bit a carbon copy of you. It was something that Falco and Colt parroted constantly – the biggest fans of all her little at home concerts, her fashion shows, and most of all, her singing. 

It seems that she got the seasonal allergies too. 

“I can smell your drink and my drink.” you respond, as you down the very last bit of your cup. 

Marco seems to follow suit, draining the last of the milk from the cup before he leans forward, short arms barely wrapping around your neck as you scoop him up into your arms. The time must have caught up to him, eyes quickly lidding shut, as you switch off the lights, and lead him back to his room. 

He whispers one last thing before you tuck him into bed. 

“I can feel you here with me.” 

It’s enough to put your mind at rest to go to sleep. 

--

The doorbell rings early the next morning – at seven on the dot – and sends Marco and Maya tumbling down the stairs, their little footsteps thundering as you open up the door to Lana, Sukuna, Teddy, and Grace.  

You turn your head over your shoulder, watching as Marco and Maya’s faces drop at the sight of them, and subsequently watch them drag themselves over to the dining table. 

“Is that anyway to say hello?” Sukuna asks, chest puffed up from the clear dismissal from the both of them – which albeit, is a rare occurrence.  

Sukuna marches straight through the doorway, Lana giving you a warning glance, as you watch him hunch over the chairs – his head hanging in between Marco and Maya’s – as he gives the two of them a little glare. 

“Angie. Are you not excited to see me?” 

Angie. Sukuna’s special nickname for Maya. 

“I thought you were Eren.” Maya responds. 

“I wish he was.” Gracie mumbles, earning her a glare from Sukuna. 

It worked out well enough. Eren was Gracie’s favorite, but Sukuna was Maya’s. Naturally it irritated the both of them well enough. 

You sigh, opening your arms up to the hug that Teddy’s offering you – which Grace piles on to – as you shoot her a warning glance. 

“Maya. You’re supposed to call him Dad.” you chide. 

“But you call him Eren.” she retorts back. 

“Yeah. Because he’s not my dad. He’s just Eren to me.” you respond. 

That earns you a laugh from Teddy, as he lets go and starts passing out the plates, with Lana helping you finish making the breakfast from the kitchen. 

“How are you holding up?” she asks. 

“Yeah, yeah. Same old. Did you talk to Connie at all today?” 

You watch as Lana frowns, which sends an immediate pang to your chest. 

Eren’s contingency plan on leaving you alone – since the three of you couldn’t possibly go with him – was making sure that you were taken care of. Which included him sending Lana and Sukuna over everyday for breakfast, just so you didn’t feel lonely. 

You guys tended to get fickle with how often you’d eat breakfast together – aiming for at least once a week – but you know Eren must have said something because they were here almost every other day. 

“Think he’s doing better.” Lana responds. 

You sigh. 

“Did you talk to Eren?” 

“Yeah.” 

Eren doesn’t seem like he’s fairing well either. But you figured as much – that it would be hard for him to see Connie in this condition, because the smallest voice in his head told him that it was all his fault. 

“I feel like he’s scared to let him go. He’s…he’s scared he’s going to die while he’s not looking.” you add. 

Lana nods. 

“He could have come back a week ago. Maryam was fine handling it but I just think he…but you know how he is with Connie. They’re like brothers.” 

You hum in response. Lana leans forward, resting her head against your shoulder, as you lean into the touch. 

“You’re better than me. I feel like I’d be ten different levels of crazy if Sukuna and Teddy weren’t telling me not to worry about him.” Lana responds. 

You shrug. 

“It’s fine for the most part. Marco and Maya keep me busy. Levi calls me everyday just to update me on his lawn mowing, which takes like four hours alone. It’s all fine, I just…keep having this really weird dream.” 

“Really?” she asks. 

“I don’t know. I don’t really remember the details. All I know is that…that I’m driving a car. There’s a honking sound and then a big truck that cuts me off and makes me crash. But for some reason, I feel like…I feel like I know the person driving the truck. Like they’re…they’re making fun of me or laughing or something.”

You watch as Lana squints her eyes at you, her touch suddenly stiff, as you give her a look. 

“What?” 

“Nothing. That is weird. But it’s just a dream.” Lana responds. 

“I mean, I know. But I just…I don’t get dreams. Let alone recurring ones. I feel like I know the person or…or something about it just feels really familiar that’s all. I wake up every night just thinking about it, trying to remember what it is that I saw.” 

Lana picks up the spoon, plating the last of the eggs into the dish, as she gives you a wary look over her shoulder. 

“Stress manifests in different ways. I think this Connie thing is just stressful. Being without Eren with the kids is stressful. I don’t think it means anything.” she adds. 

Lana leans forward, pressing a kiss against your cheek, before lifting the plates, gesturing for you to follow as you take them over to the table. You take your seat next to Sukuna – who’s clearly won over Maya in the past few minutes that you were gone – as you sit next to Grace. 

“I like the ribbon, Gracie.” 

“I’m glad you said that. I made one for you too.” 

Lana taught Gracie how to sow, meaning that every time she came over, she left a few more ribbons for your collection. You rarely wore them anymore, but it was nice to keep all the gifts Gracie made for you – pink lace, little charms in the fabric. 

There’s immediate chatter the second everyone’s hands start moving – Sukuna and Maya whispering under their breaths, Teddy, Lana, and Marco talking about the recent soccer game – and the only thing you can think about is how the chair next to you is empty. 

That Eren would have been here asking Teddy about when his spelling bee is so he could go. And that he’d cut Maya’s fruits into stars with Sukuna just because she likes them that way. 

“Do you miss Eren?” 

You lean forward, placing your hand on Grace’s shoulder, as you give her a smile. 

“Just a little, Gracie. But that’s normal.” you respond. 

“He’ll be back soon enough. And Falco and Gabi should be back next week, so…we’ll have more people at breakfast. We’ll have to start ordering chairs for how many of us there are.” 

You laugh. 

“That’s a good problem to have.” 

You can’t help but think that three blocks down, only a few years prior, Eren, Lana, and Teddy used to eat breakfast together every morning, because that’s all they had. And now you barely had enough seats to fill the table. 

You think about how it would kill you if Connie never came back to eat breakfast with you guys. 

“Y/N. Can you help me practice for the spelling bee tomorrow?” Teddy asks. 

You smile. 

“Of course, Teddy Bear.” 

Teddy curls his nose in disgust. 

“Y/N. Don’t call me that. It’s not cool.” he murmurs. 

The older Teddy gets, the more he seems to curl his nose at all of the sweet nicknames you all have for him. He barely lets Eren hug him anymore, instead trying to make weird over complicated handshakes – that Eren can obviously never remember. 

Your phone buzzes on the table to four texts from Eren. 

[eren]: connie made a very obscure pop culture reference today that honestly kind of freaked out his VERY old nurse

[eren]: it was giving ** erwin ** 

[eren]: the world is healing 

[eren]: i miss you! 

--

You appreciate the routine of things. That every night, you comb through Maya and Marco’s wet hair, that you all brush your teeth together, and that you all read a story together before you go to sleep. 

“I have a question.” 

You close the little book – an old version of Goodnight Moon that Jean and Mikasa gifted you when Marco and Maya were born – and slide it into the shelf. 

“Do share, Miss Maya.” you respond. 

That’s what Eren always calls her. Miss Maya. 

“How did you spend so much time away from Eren?” Maya asks.

“Maya.” you berate. 

“Sorry. Dad. How did you spend so much time away from Dad? Like before when you were little?” she asks. 

You pause. 

“What do you mean?” 

“It’s only been a few weeks and…and I miss him.” Maya mumbles, the tiniest crack in her voice. 

You can feel your chest ache as you lean forward, wrapping your arms around her little body as she leans up, her salty tears spilling straight onto your neck. 

“Oh, Maya.” you coo. 

“I know he’s gone for a good reason and I’m not mad at him. I’m sad about Uncle Connie too but I just wish he was here. And Uncle Connie was too.” she responds, voice muffled by how she’s burying her face into your shirt. 

It’s not even a few seconds before you hear another set of sniffling, only to find Marco getting out of his bed and clinging to your side too. 

You can’t help it – you can’t help that there’s warm tears in your eyes too as you rest your head against their freshly shampooed hair, and hold them tight. 

You sit there quietly for some time – Marco and Maya’s tears subsiding long before yours – but they make no inclination of letting go. You appreciate that. And it’s not long before they fall asleep, before you tuck them into their sheets, and wipe your own tears before going to bed.

The pictures of Connie on the wall feel like they’re mocking you. 

And like clockwork, it happens again. 

A cold sweat down your back – because the truck almost hits you, because you swear you can hear laughing, and a clicking sound that you can’t really place. You’re barely asleep for two hours. 

You make a mental note. That the clicking sound is new, but you still can’t really remember much besides that. Only that it’s really dark. 

When you make it down to the kitchen, you find Marco hunched over, with Maya on his back. You can’t help but laugh – only because this reminds you of Colt – and watch them for a second before interrupting. 

“Push higher.” 

“I’m trying to, you’re too heavy, Maya.” 

“I can’t reach the cups from here.” 

“Okay, okay. I’m trying. That’s easy to say from down there.” 

You flick the last of the lights open – the ones they can’t reach – as they both turn around, Maya nearly toppling off his back – as you put your hands on your hips. 

“You want my help?” 

“Please.” Maya groans. 

Maya rubs the sore spot on her back, giving you a quiet nod as Marco moves over, and you reach for the cups. The two of them drain their cups of milk the second you fill them – clearly overexerted from the rhythmic gymnastics they were attempting a few minutes ago – as you nurse the cup of chamomile in your hand. 

“You know, this is way better when Eren makes it.” Maya states. 

You roll your eyes. 

“Dad.” 

“It’s too bitter when you do it.” 

You shake your head at Maya, reaching forward to pinch her cheek before responding. 

“My apologies, Miss Maya. I’ll call him tomorrow and ask him what he puts in yours. Knowing him, he does something different for each of us to make sure that we like it.” you respond. 

So quick to accommodate, an endless amount of space in his mind to remember everything – Maya wears ribbons on Thursdays, she doesn’t like the purple ones. Marco likes to read Goodnight Moon in the winter, not the summer, because the bunny reminds him of snow. 

The light in the doorway flicks on, accompanied by a very tired looking Eren, who gives you a very weak smile through the dim light.

“I put honey in Maya’s because she thinks it’s bitter, sweetheart. Only half a teaspoon, because then she gets kind of antsy.” Eren mumbles. 

You turn to your left and watch as Maya and Marco both try to tumble off the counter, excited giggles as they run over to Eren, clinging on to the fabric of his shirt as they basically scream in his ear. 

You can feel warm tears burning in the back of your eyes as Eren leans down, arms wrapped around the two of them, as he seems to breathe a sigh of relief – nestling his head in between the two of theirs. 

You’re almost positive that he missed them more than they missed him.

Which was saying something. 

“Hi M&M.” Eren mumbles. 

Their favorite candy. For obvious reasons. 

“You too, sweetheart. Come here.” Maya adds, extending out one of her hands to you. 

You swallow down the burning feeling in your throat, taking one last look up to dry your tears, before crouching down on the ground with them, Eren’s hand being the one that wraps around you first. 

“Maya. It’s Mommy. Not sweetheart.” Eren chides. 

You can’t help but laugh – remembering that it was only a few months ago that Maya realized that your name wasn’t actually sweetheart, that it was just a nickname that Eren used for you – as you lean your temple against his. 

“Okay, it’s really late. Dad’s going to tuck you into bed, okay?” you respond. 

Marco and Maya give you an affirmative nod, as Eren scoops both of them up into an arm each – something you’re too weak to do at this point – as you watch them all trail down the hallway. 

“Did you miss me?” Eren asks. 

“So much. We even cried about it earlier!” Marco responds. 

Eren immediately frowns as he kicks his shoes off at the door, quietly padding into the darkness of their room. Lana’s phone call was very brief – only warning him about the weird dreams you were having – but he didn’t realize that they were feeling it too. 

Eren sets them both down, reaching for Maya first as he tucks the sheets in around her. 

“Buddy, what do you mean by that? You cried about it earlier?” Eren asks, glancing over his shoulder. 

“We all miss you so much we cried. Even sweetheart.” Maya responds. 

Eren doesn’t take the time to correct her. He reaches down, pressing a kiss to Maya’s forehead, before brushing through the flyaways around her head. 

“She did?” 

“Mhm. Longer than me and Marco too. I heard Auntie Lana say it’s because she’s having weird dreams about Marco. You know, the other Marco. The one who died.” 

Eren nods. It’s the only reason that he was able to bring himself home and leave Connie. Only because he didn’t realize how fast time had passed. 

“I know the one.” 

“She’s okay though. She told me herself.” Maya adds. 

Eren sighs. 

“I know she is.” 

Eren switches over to Marco’s side which makes his chest pang a little bit more – the seeping ache of being gone for so long, to be at his side – making his throat burn. 

“Everything good, Marco?” 

It’s at that second that Marco jumps out of his sheets, little arms wrapped around his neck, as Eren sinks against his shoulder. 

“Is Uncle Connie okay?” 

Eren smiles. 

“He went home last night, Marco. He’s going to be just fine.” Eren responds. 

Marco gives him a nod, before lying back down against the sheets. 

“I heard Uncle Sukuna say that Mommy was just scared that he was going to die. He’s not going to die, right?” 

Eren makes a mental note to call Lana and Sukuna tomorrow and ask them to refrain from gossiping until they get home.  

“He’s not going to die, Marco. He’ll call you tomorrow, okay? Connie really missed you both.” 

Marco gives him a nod, Eren pressing one last lingering kiss to his forehead, before padding out of the room and flicking the light shut. Eren shuffles back out to the kitchen, noting the open packet of ramen on the counter, as he leans forward, wrapping his arms around your frame. 

He’d deal with them in the morning. You first. 

Eren can’t help but nestle into the crook in your shoulder – and noting that you immediately flinch at the feeling. 

“Sorry. I meant to shave before I got back. I know it tickles.” Eren whispers. 

You laugh. 

“S’okay. I’ll help you tomorrow, Eren.” you mumble. 

Eren leans down, breathing in the sweet smell of your shampoo and soap mixed in, as he leans his cheek against yours. 

Eren ranked all the moments in his head. Sweet memories that felt like lightbulbs to him – the way they stuck out in his memory – but he always had his favorites. 

Watching Maya play the piano. Teaching Marco how to take polaroids of you and Maya. Marco meeting Armin and Maya telling Jean his haircut sucked. 

And his personal favorite was letting his beard grow out just to the point where it annoyed you – just so you’d offer to shave it for him. Attentive fingers, eyes focused and without fail, a sweet kiss and a hug at the end for his clean shaven face. 

It was one of the things that was always promised. That you’d complain, that he’d pretend to hate it when you shaved his beard, and that you’d kiss him afterwards. That you’d taste like toothpaste because you just brushed your teeth and then go to sleep next to him after the fact. 

Eren can’t help but squeeze harder. 

“You know, you’ll cut off my circulation any second now.” 

“Any reason you didn’t come running at me?” Eren asks. 

“The little speedsters beat me to it. They missed you a lot, you know?” you respond. 

Eren laughs. 

“Not as much as you.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Eren shrugs. It takes you three seconds to clock it, before you roll your eyes. 

Of course they told him that you cried earlier. 

“Who was the narc?” 

“There was no narc. I just know how to read you really well.” Eren responds

“Eren.” 

“A gentleman never tells.” 

“I know they both told you. I just want to know who did it first.” you clarify. 

Eren smiles. 

“Marco, of course.” 

You laugh. 

“He’s really living up to the name. The only narc bigger than him was the other Marco.” 

Telling Jean when Mikasa was upset at him. Telling Connie that Sasha forgot his birthday. 

You feel Eren lift off of you, two hands firm on your shoulder, as he drags you closer to him. It’s warm hands that cup your face and it’s only then that you notice that his green eyes are rimmed with red and that he looks tired. 

“I missed you too, you know?” Eren whispers. 

You smile. 

“I know.” 

“You can just ask Maryam. I even cried about it.” 

You snort, the tiniest wave of embarrassment peeling off of you, as you lean forward, wrapping your hands around his face. 

“Really?” 

“You already know that I’m already of the opinion that I’ve spent far too much of my life without you. That includes two weeks in California, Y/N.” Eren responds, voice soft. 

You lean forward, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

“How’s Connie?” you ask. 

Eren smiles. 

“He brought a framed picture of all of us from our wedding to the hospital room. He’s been fine this entire time.” 

You snort. 

“Typical.” 

Eren laughs. 

“He told the nurse you were his sister when she asked about the picture. So much so that they were ready to add you to his health documents and start screening you for blood diseases or some shit because he thought you were actually related.” 

You both laugh. And you relish in the fact that Connie was still there, underneath his beaten body. 

“Teddy is coming tomorrow for spelling bee practice. Gracie gave me two new ribbons – pink and purple with lace – and Maya wasn’t even excited to see Sukuna yesterday.” you state. 

Eren’s eyes light up. 

“Really?” 

“Hold your horses, Eren. It took her two seconds before she was happy to see him again.” 

Eren rolls his eyes. 

“Well, Gracie’s coming tomorrow, so he can kiss my ass. And Falco too in a few days and you know I’m obviously his favorite.” Eren asks. 

You shake your head at him. Always trying to one up Sukuna – something that was natural, since they were both so good with kids. 

“You know, I didn’t even realize how big our family got before our eyes.” you whisper. 

Eren smiles, before leaning forward, and closing the space between the two of you. He tastes like the remnants of the cookie – dusted sugar and coffee – hanging on his lips. 

“Sometimes I forget I used to dream about this entire thing. Being away kind of reminded me of that.”  Eren whispers. 

“This entire thing?” 

“You and me, the most. But also friends that live a few streets away. Teddy feeling like he has cousins and…and having kids.” 

You smile. 

“You know your kids adore you, right? 

Eren smiles. 

“They just have a recency bias. They love you way more than me.” 

You roll your eyes. 

“I don’t make their milk right.” 

Eren pinches your cheek. 

“And I don’t do Maya’s hair the way she likes it or make Marco’s bed properly. Same thing.” 

You smile.. 

“They love us both. We’re both very lucky to have two healthy kids and a family that’s…that’s mostly healthy, that’s all together.” 

Eren pauses, a light glisten in his eyes. You can tell that he doesn’t feel that. 

“Eren?” 

“Tell me about this dream of yours.” he mumbles. 

You groan. 

“Lana?” 

“Technically Maya mentioned it too.” Eren adds. 

You smile. 

“It’s just a weird dream that I’ve been having. S’always dark and I’m driving. There’s a horn and clicking and I just wake up feeling all frazzled. I think I was just worrying about Connie too much.” you respond. 

Eren shrugs. 

“Maybe.” 

“You don’t sound very convinced.” you state.

Eren sighs, scooching over as he leans towards the bowl of simmering noodles, straining them into the bowl that you have placed at the side. You can’t help but lean against his arm, Eren absentmindedly placing a kiss in your hair, as you watch the steam. 

“Did you know that Maryam drove me to the hospital everyday to see Connie?” 

You snort. 

“Do you have no concern for your life? You are a father now, you know?” 

You’re half convinced that Maryam hypnotized someone to get her license at the DMV. Or that she somehow became legally blind the few minutes that she sat behind the wheel. 

“I mean, I do. But I just couldn’t bring myself to drive.” 

You pause. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah. I would just sit in the chair and get all…all anxious just sitting there. I couldn’t even put the key in the engine.” 

You lean forward, rubbing your hands up and down his biceps. 

“Any reason why?” you ask. 

Eren signs, before leaning forward, with his eyes focused on the calendar. 

“You know, you always forget to change the calendar.” 

“I don’t really look at it.” you state. 

Eren leans forward, switching the page from last month to the current one, which is when you notice it. 

That it’s June. That it’s been June for a few days now and that you didn’t even keep track of the numbers. 

“When did your dream start?” Eren asks. 

You get it now. 

“Four days ago.” you state, throat dry. 

Eren gives you a halfhearted smile, as he counts backwards, all the way to June 11th. 

The day that Marco died. And you didn’t even realize. That you went about your business that day – taking Maya to piano, dropping off Teddy at school – and you didn’t even think about it. 

“Oh my god, Eren.” you mumble. 

“That’s when I couldn’t drive. I…I didn’t necessarily remember, but…but it just felt wrong.” 

“I forgot.” you whisper. 

“So did I.” Eren responds. 

You feel the tears burn out of your sockets as you realize – realize that Marco’s death anniversary passed and you forgot, that you were already in the early hours of his birthday and you didn’t remember – and that time was passing so fast you can’t even remember what he looks like anymore. 

You can’t help but lean forward, wracking quiet tears into Eren’s shoulder, as you realize the dream. The clicking sounds were camera flashes, the car cuts you off and you crash, and you feel like you know them, because the paparazzi always seem familiar to you. 

You were dreaming about Marco dying. From Marco’s perspective. And Eren can’t get in the car, because he’s petrified it’s going to happen to him. 

The thought crosses your mind that Eren rushed back so fast – so fast because he was worried about you. 

Not because of the dream, but because of that day. Because when Lana told him that Marco died – she didn’t specify his name. And his first thought was you – he thought you were the one who died. 

He was always reminded of it, that feeling, whenever the day came around. The fear of you dying. You wonder if it crossed his mind a few days ago. 

Eren lets go, shuffling behind you to rummaging through the fridge. 

“Anything close to cake?” 

“There should be a cookie or two. Maybe at the top.” you mumble. 

Eren slams the door shut behind you, as you reach for the drawer on the left, pulling out the colored flame candles from Grace’s surprise birthday, as Eren joins you at your side, plating the cookie in the center. 

You jam the wax candle into the center, Eren quick with the matches at your side as you watch the flame light up purple, and the two of you lean closer to the warmth. 

It was the one tradition that you and Eren afforded yourself. That every year on Marco’s birthday, you made a wish for him. And after the fact, you wouldn’t reminisce on it at all – not unless it was happy. 

It’s what he would have wanted. 

“You first, Eren.” 

Eren sighs. 

“I wish you were still here with us. But I hope you’re happy wherever you are, Marco.” 

Eren’s wish is the same every year. 

You smile, leaning your head against Eren’s shoulder. 

“I know you told us you’d haunt us if we ever apart, but I didn’t realize that applied to domestic travel, Marco.” 

Eren gives you a teary laugh. 

“I hope you’re resting easy, wherever you are. Come visit me in my dreams the good way. Keep all the bad stuff away.” you mumble.

You and Eren give each other a look, before lightly blowing out the candles together, and wrapping yourselves in each other’s embrace. 

You remember shreds of a very vague dream the next morning. 

It’s your wedding day. But somehow Marco and Maya are there, giggling as they pass the two of you rings. 

And the other Marco’s standing there too, smiling and giving his approval.

--

an: ah yes. method acting in the lords month august 2024. had to make it angsty for obvious reasons. we all know who I am at my core. also why did this make me cry I miss this fic so much

taglist: @k0z3me @sugu-love @yihona-san06  @bsenpai @sweetenertea @mykyoon @violetmatcha  @rebeccawinters @cutiejg @bokutosthings @bookwrmm @mblrrr @wheredidmycrowngo @somethinginyoureyes7 @chilichopsticks @okaystopwhore @you-always-made-me-blush @itzmeme @firelordazulaaaa @whoami-72 @g-ghostly @intimacywithceline @erensmoodygf @chericos @princess-ackerman @jaegerfiles @cacapeepee @rui-0836 @moonmalice @invisible-mori i @sofiasber @bbybeeb @timetobegone @tee4str @ttokki2 @leave-rae-alone @ec3lipsy @officialsimpp @gojojang @yookayyo @lordbugs @multiplefandomthings @iobeyfandoms @camilo-uwu @justanotherkpopstanlol @mel-star636 @fvckingeetar @ttalgi @najaemism @ilovekimchi123 @youraggedybitch @xoyumiqls @leafguitar @dreamy-carat @spiidergirlsworld @luvs4kim @levin4nami @florichun @hoonmyluv

[swappingforgood]

All in a days work. Pt 1

Do you ever feel like life would be better if you weren’t doing the thing you were doing? Or, of course, you would answer yes, we as humans are creatures who always want what we don’t have. What do I want? I want an easier life, a simpler life; I want to live. You see I’m what you might call the 1% of the social class.

I inherited my father’s company when I was 25, and I have been working for a long “hard-earned” 30 yes. Now, why would I, the wealthy CEO of a successful company, wish for anything different? Im bored. I didn’t get to live; I didn’t get to get hammered and wake up hungover on the streets or have work at a fast food job. I didn’t even get to come out as gay; I had to hide it and keep it on the down low and only sleep with guys who were too scared to speak up and ruin my status. I was miserable. Considering my age, my team decided to hire an intern. Cute kid, I will say; he got the looks, the nice bod, the adorable face. He didn’t know much, and he respected and admired me. Tsk, if he only knew I would rather be him. I would quit immediately if I had his body and go experiment and do everything I wanted to do. I got an email sent to me by an anonymous sender who simply went by “S” and told me that they can make my wish come true; I would just need to follow certain steps. 1. I would need to get the person I want to swap with to agree. 2. I would then need to swallow their DNA. 3. Have sex to make it permanent. After reading that email, my cock hiding in my fat pad immediately got hard, and I called my intern. “Hey Tanner, come here,” I said as he locked the door behind him. “Yes Sir?” He asked cutely as his voice cracked from the nerves. "Oh, please kid, call me Bruce; you’ve known me long enough. You see, you’ve been working very hard. I’m very proud of you,” I said as I approached him and cornered him with my larger body as I kneeled and put my hand on his crotch. “I wanna make you feel good, okay? You earned it,” I said with a grin as the young man moaned as I unzipped his pants and saw his young cock bounce out. I immediately wrapped my mouth around it and made sure to swirl my tongue around his head to make him whine before pulling back. “Hey kid, you ever wish you had my job?” I said as he looked at me with lust. “Yes b-Bruce. I would love to be you and have your job,” I grinned as I agreed before returning to his young cock. Enticing him until I hear him whimpering before feeling a hot load hitting my mouth, and then my vision went black. 

[kxxkiecxre]

・❥・ Trapped Hearts || Jeon Jungkook ・❥・

PAIRING: Jungkook x Fem!Reader.

SUMMARY: Jungkook is a good guy, you know that… he’s just stuck on you and won’t leave you alone. Maybe you should be concerned, maybe even run. Deep down however, you know you love this.

WARNINGS: 18+, stalker au, stalker!jk, stalker descriptions.

Part two: a life that’s so carefree

It’s been weeks, months even, since you broke you with him. Yet he still feels so close to you. So personal. It’s haunting the way you can feel his soft touch lingering on your skin as if he’s still around you. Maybe he is? You’ve been suspicious of this for awhile, every time you walk anywhere you feel him around. Or more like someone’s watching you. Every step you take, even in the comfort of your own home.

It’s gotten to a point where you slept with all your windows closed, blinds too. You loved having the window cracked open during the night for fresh air, but ever since you broke up with Jungkook you’ve had this eerie feeling of being watched. Your friends told you multiple times it wouldn’t be surprising if someone did stalk you, just because a lot of the men you were with before would become overly obsessed. You weren’t sure what it was that made them insane when you’d break up with them, but then again, men are truly just creatures of habit. Weak, shy and frail despite their stereotype or image. They’re emotional. Like little puppies who need constant care.

You walked home alone, the night dark and silent as you walked the familiar path towards your apartment complex. Large fluffy trees surrounding you either side of the pathway. The grass around you was wet and freshly cut, providing that that comforting smell. The street lights hued your figure in an orange cast, your features extenuated under the shade of deep amber. You looked behind your shoulder, that unsettling feeling of being watched present once again.

Your hair got caught in your reflective lipgloss, your red manicured fingers brushing them off your face. Your brows furrowed before you quickly turned to face the road ahead of you again. You wore a much simpler outfit tonight, black fishnet tights, studded with little crystals that could never outshine the sparkle In your eyes, your dress was a deep burgundy color, it looked like the velvet dress he bought you. The valley of your breasts lightly covered with the black lace hem. Your body was covered with a black leather bomber jacket, hair flowing effortlessly over your body.

You looked beautiful as always and it made him throw his head softly against the tree. Sighing to himself. Has he gone insane? He’s never been like this over anyone but you. Watching your every move, making sure you’re safe. You’re okay. It was freaky. He was freaky. It wasn’t cute, to be this obsessed with you. He was drooling just at the distant sight of you. God he was pathetic.

When you got within safe distance for him to follow you again, he wasted no time to catch up with you. He was dressed in his washed out baggy jeans, blue hoodie covering his face and posture perfectly. He still kept a good distance away from you. Still, seeing a man walking in dark clothing behind a woman who’s vulnerable, it spooked you. You walked faster, as fast as your legs could take you in your black heels. Out of instinct sharing your location with not only your friend Laura, but with Jungkook too, you knew he’d protect you if it came to it.

You: someone’s following me, a man. Call me in ten minutes. If I don’t answer after the third ring, call the police.

SEEN

Jungkook: got you b

You continue walking as fast as you could, practically breaking your ankles as you ran up the stairs of your porch. You locked the doors behind you, quickly running around the house to close all the blinds. You sat on your bed now, head in your hands. You’re too paranoid. The ringing of your phone is what makes you jump. Jungkook.

You answer the phone, his voice was low like he was whispering, “hello?”

“Hi”

“Are you okay? Did the creep stop following you?” He asks, standing directly across your bedroom window. Leaned up against the far wall, one foot up against it behind him, his hoodie still covering up most of his face as he held the phone to his ear. Eyes never leaving the silhouette of your figure pacing your room behind the blinds.

“Yeah,” you sounded panicked, “I mean I didn’t look back I just went home straight.”

Fuck, he’s such a prick.

She sat across you brows furrowed and eyes concerned, “did you report it to the police?”.

“Come on now Yuna, you know well the police don’t give a shit unless I know who the person is or have evidence.”

She nodded, stirring her cappuccino as you held your own between your palms, “so what are you going to do?”.

Your eyes frantically scanned the room, full of anxiety, “I’ll share my location with you and Laura and Jk, at all times.”

He stood leaned up against the black marbled wall holding up the tall building, away from your vision still he could see you perfectly. You were inside your favourite little cafe, with Yuna of course. You talked fast, your eyes skittish as they danced around the room every few seconds, probably spooked from last night. He watched as you raised the white mug to your lips, your tongue darting out to lick the foam of your lips.

He watched you with pride, with so much love even though what he was doing right now was far beyond creepy and disgusting.

Yuna decided to walk you back to your workplace, “you need to invest in a car y/n, if worst comes to worst, you can run the creep over.”

“If only I could afford one” you chuckled lightly.

You threw yourself into work immediately upon coming to your cubicle, spending hours calculating numbers and statistics, percentages and such that one major company may need. It was exhausting, but it also stopped your brain from overthinking. Stopped you from thinking about your potential stalker, whoever it may be.

If only you could see him, know who it is. You’d kill him with your bare hands. That’s a lie, but you’d still like to believe you’d fight against the creep. Your manic working was interrupted by your co-worker tapping you on the shoulder,

“I’m sorry, there’s some guy waiting for you outside? More like demanding to speak with you.”

You frowned, a guy? The only guy you know is Jungkook. A bit afraid it might be your stalker waiting for you, to kidnap or maybe even kill you or something.

You turned to your co worker, “tae? Would you mind going down with me?”

Taehyung doesn’t question, he simply nods with sincere eyes.

The walk down to the bottom floor had your stomach doing flips, nerves running rampant as if you were willingly walking into a trap. Your heart settles down a little when you see Jungkook, leaning against a shiny white Mercedes. A new car?

“Kook? What you doing here?” You asked, voice still so sweet and soft.

“I came to bring you your new weapon.”

He holds the keys in the air, your eyes close to popping out of their sockets. You meant well when you told Jungkook you’d remain only friendly with him after the breakup, but this man must not know what friendly is.

“Thought you’d benefit better from it, if worst comes to worst you can run the creep over.”

The sentence he says is exactly, word for word, like Yunas from earlier today. It sends a little shiver down your spine but you ignore it and smile at him, “kook-“

“Shut up and take it Y/N, I owe it to you.”

“You don’t owe me anything.”

“Clearly I must have done something wrong to lose a woman like you..”

“Jungkook, I broke up with you because of personal reasons. Nothing to do with you.” A lie… it was everything to do with him. His mother to be precise.

He was loaded. So were his parents and you were just a middle class girl living in your mums old home working a job that pays well.. at least for interns. Still it didn’t sit right with his mother, she kept accusing you of leeching off of him. Which was now where near the truth.

“I won’t leave until you take the keys Y/N.”

Shaking your head you take the keys, “I’m only borrowing it.”

“Sure” he laughs.

You came home early once again, only this time all the lights are on in your house. What the fuck? With a fastening heart rate you press the accelerator down, going thrice the speed limit but you couldn’t care. Not when you were two seconds away from breaking down. Doing a loop around your village you finally end up at your destination.

You knock wildly on the door, tears forming in your eyes, the door doesn’t open. No one answers, he must be asleep. The rain starts lashing, soaking the cotton dress on you printed with little lilacs. Your hair drenched in the rain. You pull the top of the vase of the little flower off, finding the key to his fancy apartment. You waste no time entering his home without his permission. You’re sure he wouldn’t mind anyway.

The place is dark, not a single light on. You turned the hallway lights on, “Jungkook? It’s me Y/N”.

You run around the apartment, turning on every light on your way. Nothing. Finally, you enter his room. You turn the light on, nobody’s there once again. You take a look at the room, it was messy, some type of pictures laying scattered all over the floor. You bend down, sniffling they’re just selfies of him. You smiled softly at the picture of him with his head against a tree in the dark of night “weirdo”.

You sniffled again, you’re definitely getting sick. You raised yourself back onto your feet. Walking around his room and cleaning up the scattered papers and pictures until you find his opened laptop. Your breath hitches, eyes widening and jaw slacking as you scroll through the pictures. It was you. The pictures of all the times you felt you were being watched, you in front of your mirror in your room, you walking through the little park on the night you texted him about someone following you. You were looking behind your shoulder. You in the cafe. You in your work place. You, you, you. Every picture was you. As you closed the tab, his wallpaper was you in the pub dancing. That same night he was following you through the park.

You felt sick the more you looked through his stuff. The selfies, they were all of him taking pictures of himself outside of the places you were. What the fuck. You were going to get sick, holy shit. You rushed out of his apartment, dizzy and nauseated. Holy fuck.

As you run down the stairs he walks up around the corner, your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach.

“Y/N?”

You got stuck, you mumbled something incoherent before you finally spat it out, “I was just gonna come up but nobody was answering the door.”

“Sorry I was out with Jin, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, “I have to go though, Yuna got drunk again so I have to pick her up.” You chuckled nervously.

“Okay… stay safe? Call me when you’re home.”

“Yeah absolutely.” You smile quickly at him before you rushed back to the car.

The car he gave you … incase of the creep. The more you struggled to breathe the more you became nauseated. Quickly, you pulled out of his driveway. Heading straight back to your place.

The first thing you do after locking your door was throwing up in your toilet. Your breathing was harsh as you slid down the wall of your bathroom. He was right there, all along. He was the one who was your stalker. Right under your nose. It made you feel another wave of nausea. Trying your hardest to not breakdown.

Why would he do that though? Why would he make you so scared, so anxious about going out living your day to day life became a nightmare. Because of him. Fucking hell.

You took a couple deep breathes before you got back up. Pulling your hair into a ponytail, you stripped yourself off of your soaked dress. Slipping on your leggings and sweatshirt. You were about to press the call button, to ring Yuna. Until a series of knocks echoed through your house. A shiver ran down your body, that dreadful nauseating feeling taking over your body once again.

You entered your living room, watching the door as he continued knocking.

“Baby, cmon, let me in.” He called out in his innocent voice.

“It’s not at all what it looks like, I promise.”

The thunder rolled right after his sentence, lighting up your rather dark living room in a shade of blue.

What do you do now?

A/N: hope yall enjoyed this little Drabble :).

I DO NOT ALLOW ANY TRANSLATION OR COPYING OF MY WORK.

masterlist

[mariacallous]

Microsoft's CEO Satya Nadella has hailed the company's new Recall feature, which stores a history of your computer desktop and makes it available to AI for analysis, as “photographic memory” for your PC. Within the cybersecurity community, meanwhile, the notion of a tool that silently takes a screenshot of your desktop every five seconds has been hailed as a hacker's dream come true and the worst product idea in recent memory.

Now, security researchers have pointed out that even the one remaining security safeguard meant to protect that feature from exploitation can be trivially defeated.

Since Recall was first announced last month, the cybersecurity world has pointed out that if a hacker can install malicious software to gain a foothold on a target machine with the feature enabled, they can quickly gain access to the user's entire history stored by the function. The only barrier, it seemed, to that high-resolution view of a victim's entire life at the keyboard was that accessing Recall's data required administrator privileges on a user's machine. That meant malware without that higher-level privilege would trigger a permission pop-up, allowing users to prevent access, and that malware would also likely be blocked by default from accessing the data on most corporate machines.

Then on Wednesday, James Forshaw, a researcher with Google's Project Zero vulnerability research team, published an update to a blog post pointing out that he had found methods for accessing Recall data without administrator privileges—essentially stripping away even that last fig leaf of protection. “No admin required ;-)” the post concluded.

“Damn,” Forshaw added on Mastodon. “I really thought the Recall database security would at least be, you know, secure.”

Forshaw's blog post described two different techniques to bypass the administrator privilege requirement, both of which exploit ways of defeating a basic security function in Windows known as access control lists that determine which elements on a computer require which privileges to read and alter. One of Forshaw's methods exploits an exception to those control lists, temporarily impersonating a program on Windows machines called AIXHost.exe that can access even restricted databases. Another is even simpler: Forshaw points out that because the Recall data stored on a machine is considered to belong to the user, a hacker with the same privileges as the user could simply rewrite the access control lists on a target machine to grant themselves access to the full database.

That second, simpler bypass technique “is just mindblowing, to be honest,” says Alex Hagenah, a cybersecurity strategist and ethical hacker. Hagenah recently built a proof-of-concept hacker tool called TotalRecall designed to show that someone who gained access to a victim's machine with Recall could immediately siphon out all the user's history recorded by the feature. Hagenah's tool, however, still required that hackers find another way to gain administrator privileges through a so-called “privilege escalation” technique before his tool would work.

With Forshaw's technique, “you don’t need any privilege escalation, no pop-up, nothing,” says Hagenah. “This would make sense to implement in the tool for a bad guy.”

In fact, just an hour after speaking to WIRED about Forshaw's finding, Hagenah added the simpler of Forshaw's two techniques to his TotalRecall tool, then confirmed that the trick worked by accessing all the Recall history data stored on another user's machine for which he didn't have administrator access. “So simple and genius,” he wrote in a text to WIRED after testing the technique.

That confirmation removes one of the last arguments Recall's defenders have had against criticisms that the feature acts as, essentially, a piece of pre-installed spyware on a user's machine, ready to be exploited by any hacker who can gain a foothold on the device. “It makes your security very fragile, in the sense that anyone who penetrates your computer for even a second can get your whole history,” says Dave Aitel, the founder of the cybersecurity firm Immunity and a former NSA hacker. “Which is not something people want.”

For now, security researchers have been testing Recall in preview versions of the tool ahead of its expected launch later this month. Microsoft said it plans to integrate Recall on compatible Copilot+ PCs with the feature turned on by default. WIRED reached out to the company for comment on Forshaw's findings about Recall's security issues, but the company has yet to respond.

The revelation that hackers can exploit Recall without even using a separate privilege escalation technique only contributes further to the sense that the feature was rushed to market without a proper review from the company's cybersecurity team—despite the company's CEO Nadella proclaiming just last month that Microsoft would make security its first priority in every decision going forward. “You cannot convince me that Microsoft's security teams looked at this and said ‘that looks secure,’” says Jake Williams, a former NSA hacker and now the VP of R&D at the cybersecurity consultancy Hunter Strategy, where he says he's been asked by some of the firm's clients to test Recall's security before they add Microsoft devices that use it to their networks.

“As it stands now, it’s a security dumpster fire,” Williams says. “This is one of the scariest things I’ve ever seen from an enterprise security standpoint.”

[seelestars]

➴ ✫ * ✧ TYPES OF DATES THEY’D TAKE YOU ON (HSR characters)

includes : jing yuan , blade , dan heng , kafka , seele , himeko

JING YUAN : he’d take you shopping ! he shows a lot of his affection through gifts, so he wants you to pick anything you want ♪( ´▽｀) he’s a gentleman, would carry your bags for you as you two continue strolling through the streets ! if you guys go shopping for clothes, he will gladly tell you his opinions on the different outfits you try on (except he thinks you look good in anything hehe) maybe he even recommends clothes that he think would look spectacular on you ! buys you some food and snacks along the way too, insisting to hand feed it to u

DAN HENG : he’d take you to the beach ! he blushes slightly at first when seeing you wear a swimsuit (imagine either a bikini or swim trunks depending on what u prefer) if you like building sand castles, he’d help you ! or you might even have a little competition to see who can build the bigger sand castle~ if you wanna do sand art, that’s fine too ! he’d draw you and him together in the sand with a heart (except he doesn’t have rlly good art skills so it’s just u n him as stickmen) if you wanted to swim, he would swim w u . u splash water on him , expecting him to splash u back but he just sits there letting you soak him in water like the sweet boy he is :( he just wants to please u

BLADE : he’d take you to an aquarium ! he secretly thinks the fish are very cute and cool , you will probs catch him zoning out while staring at them lol .. so in order to get his attention again , you press a few kisses to his cheek , causing his ears to turn red as he stares at you … u insist on taking pics w him, so with a reluctant sigh , he does all the silly poses you want to do with him (like using ur arms to make hearts etc etc) I imagine he has some weird obscure facts about the sea life in the aquarium , so if you’re willing he might go on a small rant about them what a cutie patootie.. might even point out the fishes that remind him of u

KAFKA : she’d take you to the movies ! she’s fine with any genre, so it’s up to u to pick . if u choose horror , she’d be elated bcuz deep down she wants u to cling to her whenever u get scared hehe ! if u choose smth like romance , she would probs go “that could be us if you wanted~” with a smile as she turns to you .. she likes seeing the blush that blooms on ur cheeks whenever she says things like that . def makes a lot of comments if she even remotely sees the protagonist act like u do ! sometimes , she even makes comments about the movie . like how certain parts r cheesy (bold coming from her), or how some parts seem too fake .. she’s an enthusiast about analyzing films ..

HIMEKO : she’d take you to a cat cafe ! she thinks the cats r rlly cute , plus it’s a cafe ! so she can have coffee while playing w the cats along w u ! when she spots a cat that looks / reminds her of u , she points it out before putting the cat on her lap , smiling at u .. she’ll even put it on ur lap and take pictures of you two together ! would share the desserts and drinks with you (im talking like putting two straws into smth like a milkshake, except she would use urs sometimes for the indirect kiss ..) , might even hand feed you some of it (๑╹ω╹๑ ) the type to lick a crumb off your lips if u had any lol (it’s a plus for her watching you get flustered at the action)

SEELE : she’d take you on a picnic ! she’s a person who prefers more simpler things , and it’s no different when it comes to dates ! but don’t worry , u two still have a good time hehe ☆〜（ゝ。∂）surprisingly , she brings more sweet things then anything else .. she’s a bit of a sweet tooth (even though she gets a lil embarrassed about it if you call her out on it lol) if any animals pass by , she might share some food w it (she has a soft spot for animals .. ) it’s even better if you guys watch the sunset or stargaze while having the picnic, she thinks the sky is very beautiful .. she probs knows the name of all the diff constellations and stars n will gladly tell u them while gesturing towards each one in the sky

[itsbeeble]

LET LOOSE

SUMMARY: Younghoon has hated you since the day he met you. He thought you were stuck up with that better-than-you princess attitude of yours. What better than to just…fuck it right out of you?

GENRE: smut, fluff, angst, crack

PAIRING: Kim Younghoon x afab!reader (ft. eric)

WC: 5.3K

SERIES MASTERLIST

PERM TAGLIST: @juyeonszn @winterchimez

18+ MDNI AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

WARNINGS: Swearing, public sex, floor sex, academic rivals that everyone knows secretly want to fuck, enemies to lovers, missionary (that's a first wow), sexual references, mentions of alcohol, insults (not sexual), arguments, pining, mentions of killing someone as a joke, dry humping for like two seconds, making out, mentions of marking, mentions of oral, guys i think this is the least slutty fic I've written for this series, y/n is stuck in a perpetual state of denial, let me know if I missed anything but i think that's it

A/N: Everyone allow me to introduce Doll's less-slutty cousin!! I can't believe we're over halfway through this collab omg. I'm really glad people are loving this and I hope you guys have been catching the easter eggs me and Fawn have been throwing into our fics 😏

If anyone asked you what you thought of when you thought of local star student, heartthrob, and frat boy Kim Younghoon, you would scoff and cross your arms over your chest. 

“I hate him,” you would say, your lips pursed and eyebrows furrowed until they were practically touching. “I hope his house burns to the fucking ground.” 

One would think this was a gross overreaction, that you probably held a grudge over something stupid, or that he killed your dog or maybe he copied off your essay but made it seem like you were the one who plagiarized. And oh, how that would’ve been much simpler. 

The true story, however, goes all the way back—

“Thinking about me again?” A hand cracks down on the desk in front of you, your mind and body jerking back to reality. 

There he is, you think to yourself, the bane of my fucking existence. Your teeth are already grinding together, your grip tightening around the pencil you’d been using to write your notes and all he’s doing is standing there with a stupid fucking smirk. 

“Why would I be thinking of you?” You bite out and Younghoon places a hand over his heart in mock hurt.

“Ouch, sweetheart.” Your body stiffens and your face contorts with disgust at the nickname.

“Don’t call me that, douchebag.” Younghoon sighs dramatically, dropping down to be at eye level with you. 

“So cruel to me,” a pout, and then he’s smirking again. “What if I was into that, sweetheart?” 

You might throw up.

“What do you want?” you groan, noting how other students have begun to flood out of the lecture hall while you’re putting your things away. Younghoon shrugs, rising to his feet at the same time as you. Had you been a weaker woman, his height would’ve had your knees wobbling and your panties hitting the ground but, fortunately, you were a strong woman. Some of your friends couldn’t relate to that despite your very clear and very much valid hatred for him. 

“I just wanted to see what you were up to,” he shoves his hands into his pockets, rocking back onto his heels. “Considering that we’re now partners for this assignment.”

Your heart drops into your stomach, your eyes widen, and your cheeks are fighting between going pale and burning bright as a tomato.

“What are you— what do you mean we’re partners?” You echo, and his smirk only widens. Your shoulder bashes into his arm while you make your way to the front of the lecture hall where the list of partners is posted. He trails behind you, long legs making it easy to keep pace despite how impossibly fast you seem to walk.

“Aren’t you so excited?” He sounds too excited about this, and you have to physically stop yourself from grabbing him by the neck and choking him where he stands. “We get to work together for the whole semester!”

“I still don’t see how this is a problem,” Dawon tells you her tongue running over her lip as she watches you pace the length of your dorm suite’s lounge area. “Isn’t he, like, super hot? And smart?”

Your lip curls into a sneer and you whip your body around to look at her.

“He is not hot,” your voice has raised in pitch, your arms waving frantically. “He’s— he’s stupid and— and annoying, and he doesn’t know how to shut up, and his face— oh his face is just so— so—”

“Kissable?” Suyeon offers when she makes her way over with a steaming mug of tea. 

“I think rideable is a better word,” Dawon grins at the way your jaw drops at the two of them. 

“He does have a very rideable—”

“Okay, enough!” You snap, your face beginning to burn bright red in anger.

“Ooh she’s blushing!” Suyeon giggles and your face only burns brighter. 

“You both are insufferable,” you throw yourself back onto the couch, your head turned toward the ceiling. “Kim Younghoon is annoying, stuck up, and his face is not kissable or rideable.” 

“So you’re saying you’ve thought about it before?” Suyeon presses and you roll your eyes.

“Hell no. Why would I think about that?”

“Because he’s your mortal enemy and everyone ends up fucking their mortal enemy at some point.”

“Plus he’s a yummy, scrumptious, daddy cupcake.”

“Ugh, so true Dawon.” Suyeon squeezes your roommate’s hand, the two of them grinning deviously at each other.

“That’s— did you just call him— No, that’s not the point. The point is, that’s not true!” You lift your head, eyes wide with horror. “That only happens in books!”

“Not just books,” Suyeon raises her mug to her lips with a hint of a smirk on her face. “Didn’t you hear about the KAT and TBZ presidents?” 

“Oh my god, Eric told me about that!” Dawon gasps. “Apparently they—”

“I don’t need to know the details of their sex lives.” You interrupt again. “God, you two are just…”

“Don’t you just love us?” Dawon winks at you, and you wrinkle your nose in distaste.

“Let’s not go that far.” Her lips twist, and the three of you go quiet for a moment. 

“Why do you even hate him?” 

Ah, there it is. The same question everyone had been asking since the day you started at this school. 

Why do you hate Kim Younghoon? 

“It’s complicated,” you tell them what you always say. You tell them that it’s nothing they should be concerned about. He knows what he did.

“Then uncomplicate it.” Suyeon is much softer than Dawon, her eyes furrowed but not with the mild irritation Dawon has. It’s more…concern than anything else, and for a moment you think about telling them. Think about dropping your petty act, let them know exactly what about Younghoon bothers you so much. 

You open your mouth, and the two girls in front of you lean forward expectantly, practically on the edge of the tiny couch that had been squeezed into the suite.

“I can’t.”

“That isn’t going to work, sweetheart.” Younghoon says, waltzing up to you after your failed attempt to talk your professor into letting you change partners or work alone. Your shoulders are slumped in defeat, something that Younghoon seems to laugh at. “You’re stuck with me.”

“I really hate you, Kim Younghoon.” You lift your head, wanting so desperately to glare at him but you can only find the strength to stare blankly. He kisses his teeth, eyebrows furrowing.

“That’s a bit harsh, isn’t it?” 

“Who cares? It’s true.” 

You want to scream. You want to throw your body onto the ground and throw a tantrum, to cry and whine, to kick and punch the air—anything to get out of this situation. 

“All this because I got a better grade than you in one class in high school.” Younghoon shakes his head, his hair falling into his face and obscuring his eyes partially. Your heart thuds against your ribcage (because of the memory, obviously). 

“You really think that’s the only reason I hate you?” Hint: he’s right for once. Would you ever tell him that? No. As far as he knows, you have endless reasons to hate him. As long as he lives, that list will grow. In fact, it would be better if he knew that you’d be pissed if he died before you because that means he tried to escape one last competition, but you’d hate it even more if he died after you because that means he would win one last time.

“That’s all I can think of,” he shrugs and you kiss your teeth. 

“Disappointing me again, douchebag.” He scoffs at that.

“Of course I am. When am I not upsetting you about some bullshit?” 

Oddly, this time you don’t answer him. At least you don’t give him an answer to that question. 

“Listen, Kim Younghoon,” you place a hand on your hip, shifting your weight to lean mostly on one leg. He leans toward you a bit, slightly angling his head as if trying to hear you better. “You’re the most annoying, egotistical, snobbish boy I’ve ever met. You always have this, like, need to be better than me— than everyone.” 

Younghoon inhales, his eyebrows knitting together and his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. You can see the irritation in his gaze, can see him fighting the urge to snap at you and it has your stomach churning. When he finally responds, it’s not exactly what you expected. You thought he would snap back at you, tell you to go fuck yourself, to call you the same insults you just called him.

He doesn’t.

“Meet me in the library at 4 o’clock.” Your head jerks back, your nose wrinkling with confusion. 

“Excuse me?” Younghoon just smiles coyly, already turning away from you.

“Don’t you wanna get this project done so you don’t have to deal with me?” He can practically see the wheels turning in your brain, contemplating all your options. 

“I mean yeah, but how do you know if I’m even free—”

“You’re always at the cafe at the same time as me,” Younghoon glances down at you, stepping to the side as he pushes open the door of the lecture hall. You say nothing as you push by him. “I’m starting to think you’re obsessed with me, sweetheart.”

“That’s not— I would never— how—” You sputter, stumbling over your words and waving your hands in the air while you try to come up with something to say. Something to deny. Younghoon begins to smile again, coy and near-mocking. 

“I don’t hear you actively denying anything.” His eyes widen and he bends forward, lowering his face to be near yours. Your cheeks are heating up, your mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. Words. You need words. Why is nothing coming out?

“Shut the hell up, douchebag.” He laughs and your stomach churns again. Is he laughing at you?

“I’ll see you at 4, sweetheart.” Younghoon starts to reach his hand toward you as he leans up, but thinks better of it and drops it back to his side. 

“Yeah, sure,” you scoff and turn your back to him.

Fucking prick.

“You have got to be kidding me,” You toss a stack of papers onto the table you’re sitting at, glaring at the notes Younghoon wrote on the whiteboard. He’d rented a study room for a few hours, giving you time to start working. 

Or, at least, try to start working. You had made no promises about not trying to kill him and making it so neither of you could get any work done. Although, you had thought about running him over with your car so that you would have an excuse to work on this alone.

The blinds over the door had been shut, blocking anyone from looking in and potentially seeing you try to kill a man. Lucky for you.

“What’s so wrong with what I wrote?” He squints at the board and you push yourself out of the old, creaky chair you’d been sitting in. 

“It’s contradictory!” You complain, reaching around him for the eraser. He grabs your hand before you can do anything, turning on you with a scathing glare. 

“It’s not, though!” 

His grip tightens on your wrist when you pull it away. You narrow your eyes, but he doesn’t waver at all. There’s heat behind his gaze, heat that makes you nervous. You know he won’t hurt you, that’s not who he is. The heat though…that makes you nervous. It’s the same heat you’d felt several times in the past few weeks. 

“Let me go, Kim Younghoon.” He leans his head toward yours and your throat begins to close, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Not until you tell me why it’s contradictory!” He snaps. You swear your ears start to ring, your vision closing in until all you can see is Younghoon. 

“It’s— why does it matter so much to you?” His grip finally loosens and you rip away from him with a huff. 

“Because you’re putting down my work! Again!” He flings his hands into the air and you bite your tongue. “Why do you hate me so much?”

A lump in your throat, tears in your eyes, and Younghoon drops your hand. He looks defeated, his shoulders slumping and his lips set into a deep frown. 

“I just,” Younghoon sits in his chair, the old wood creaking under his weight. You stand in the middle of the study room, hands by your sides and your eyes flicking around nervously. Your posture is so tense compared to his, your eyes flitting around anxiously. “I’m tired of this shit. Not knowing what the fuck I did wrong. You never give me a reason and, at first, I was fine with it. I liked the casual rivalry. But now I’m just…it’s been four years, and I still don’t know what I did.”

“Choi Yuna.” It comes out fast, the name of your ex-best friend. So fast that Younghoon doesn’t catch it, he just stares at you with a look of pure confusion.

“What?”

You say her name slower this time, tugging at the edge of your shirt. “Choi Yuna, you dated her from freshman year until late sophomore year.” 

“Okay, yeah,” he leans forward with his elbows on his knees. “What does she have to do with this?” 

Your cheeks are burning, and you know he can see it. See how flustered you are.

“She was my best friend.” You bite on your tongue, trying to find the right words. 

“I know,” he said, and you purse your lips. “She talked about you all the time.”

“That’s funny,” you scoff, a spark of anger returning to your tone and to your facial features. “Considering she’s the reason I hated you for so long.”

“What are you talking about, sweetheart?” Younghoon huffs, rubbing at his eyes with his palms. You can tell he’s frustrated, so you speak quicker.

“She— she knew that I liked you.” His eyes snap up, wide and bulging. “She knew that I wanted to ask you out in freshman year, so she made sure to get there first. I— at first I thought that you knew that’s why she did it.”

“You thought that I knew your best friend wanted—” Younghoon huffs and rises to his feet. 

“Just—” You hold up your hands as he begins to step toward you, slowly backing you into the wall. “Just let me talk. I thought you knew, yes. She told me that you asked her out first and that she just— she just agreed. So yeah, I started to hate you. I started arguing with you and every answer you gave in class because I was just so…angry at— at everything, at myself.”

Your back is against the wall now, and you’re slowly curling in on yourself as Younghoon gets closer. 

“And…?” he cocks an eyebrow and your swallow thickly.

“By the time I realized that it was all her….at that point it was just easier to keep hating you. To keep everything at bay.”

“Everything?” He echoes and had you been looking at his face instead of his chest, you would’ve seen the smirk you’d always claimed to hate plastered onto his face. 

“Yes,” you groan and lift your head. Your breathing hitches in your throat, your body pushing even closer to the wall when you finally see just how close Younghoon is to you. 

Just a few inches from your face is his own, his eyes dancing from your eyes to your lips. His breathing is, compared to yours, slow and even. Inhale, hold, exhale. You can see his chest rising and falling with the rhythm. 

“Why—” you clear your throat. “Why are you so close to me, Younghoon?”

“No legal name this time?” He murmurs, one of his hands coming up to rest on the wall beside your head. His head dips down and now his lips are brushing against yours, every breath you take mixing with his. “What happened?”

“I just— you’re a little close to me.” Your hand presses on his chest, but it's as if you aren’t even trying to push him away. “We— we probably shouldn’t.”

Younghoon kisses his teeth, shaking his head at your suggestion. Arguably, it’s a wise choice, but right now he has you exactly where he wants you. If he lets you leave now, who’s to say you won’t pack your bags and take a one-way flight to Brazil?

“I’ve been waiting,” he says and you squeeze the hand on his chest into a fist. “For three years for you to get your head out of your ass. I’m not letting you go now that I have you.”

“Have me?” Your tone shifts into one of challenge rather than the nervous air you’d surrounded yourself with. “If anything, I have you, Kim Younghoon.”

You yank him to you by his shirt, reaching up on your tip toes to place a firm kiss on his plush lips. You hear a groan rumbling in his throat, the hand not on the wall wrapping around your waist and squeezing tightly. Your lips mesh together, but it isn’t messy. It’s slow, calculated just like every move either of you had made against each other. Every argument, every challenge. The build-up. It all led to this, and you’re not letting him go this time. He’s yours and Choi Yuna can’t take him this time. 

With a new fervor, both of your hands come to lace into his thick strands of black hair, effectively trapping his lips against yours. He drops the hand that was on the wall, both hands now on your waist and sipping under the loose fabric of your shirt. You gasp at the cold feeling of his hands on your skin, and he takes that opportunity to sneak his tongue into your mouth. It’s experimental, the way his tongue caresses yours, pushing gently and letting you suck at the warm muscle. He listens to the pretty little whimper you let out when he does the same thing in return and a shiver runs down his spine. His hand slides up the back of your shirt, emerging from the collar and lacing into the strands of your hair. 

Air. You had to come up for air. You needed to breathe. Your lungs are aching, but fuck his lips are addicting. They’re soft, and warm, and they feel so good against yours. 

Your knees cave slightly, your mind going fuzzy and Younghoon rips away from you to steady your body, his knee shoved between your legs to help keep you upright. 

“Sweetheart,” his tone is lighthearted, but you know he’s scolding you. “You need to learn to breathe. I’m not leaving just because you need some air.” 

A pretty little whine escapes you, but Younghoon is quick to realize that it’s not because you can’t find the words to respond to him. Well, if you think about it, that kind of was the reason. 

Your hips are rolling down on his knee, your hands gripping his shoulder for dear life as you ride his thigh. Your head is rolled to the side, your eyes squeezed shut as you try to find the right pace and the right amount of pleasure to ease your arousal. Younghoon’s jaw drops, and he feels his dick twitch in his pants at the sight of you trying so desperately to relieve yourself on him. Unfortunately for you, he notes, your jeans seem to be in the way of you achieving your pleasure. 

“Sweetheart,” he coos but his voice is shaky and he thanks god that you’re too far gone to notice. “Look at you, trying so hard to get yourself off.” 

You whine, and his breathing hitches when you try to ride him even harder. 

“Is it not enough?” He presses and your eyes fly open with the quick nod of your head. But then you shake it, and his heart clenches at the confused furrow of your brow.

“‘S not!” You whine. “Need more, Hoonie.” 

He smiles when you reach one of your hands down, undoing the button of your jeans and trying desperately to shove them down as far as they can physically go without interrupting your ministrations. To your dismay, they barely get anywhere before Younghoon has to set you down and starts to tug them down your legs gently. 

You never thought you would enjoy watching a man get down on his knees for you, never thought you could have this much of a reaction to it. Younghoon though…the sight of him looking up at you through his lashes, the nearly pathetic look in his eyes when he sees just how soaked your panties are— it’s enough to have you practically crumbling to the ground, your lips crashing against his again and forcing him back to lay on the ground. 

His hands are everywhere— your hair, your hips, your ass, anywhere he can reach. He squeezes the soft flesh of your ass when your lips trail down his neck, sucking little marks into the skin and pulling groans and quiet whimpers from his throat. 

Your hands run under his shirt, and he weakly tries to help you push it over his head to be tossed somewhere else. You shush him, a playful look in your eye as you place a finger on his lips. 

“Gotta be quiet now,” you unbutton his jeans, slowly dragging them and his boxers down and he lifts his hips to help you slide them down to his knees. He doesn’t bother with your shirt but makes quick work of your bra and shoves it up. You’re sliding your panties down your legs when he shoves his hands under your shirt, squeezing and tugging at the soft mounds of flesh on your chest. A quiet moan at the feeling of him tugging at your nipples, and his hands falter momentarily when you wrap your hand around the base of his cock.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” he teases and you scoff while lining him up with your sopping wet pussy. You know he’s big, both of you do, but you’d never admit that to his face. Never admit that you’re nervous about taking it all in, nervous that you won’t be able to take him at all.

“As if your little dick could possibly hurt me—” your voice catches and he watches with strained amusement as you begin to sink down on him. Your walls are tight around him, practically squeezing the life out of his poor cock while you try so desperately to keep sliding down on him. Younghoon pulls his hands out of your shirt, sliding them down to your hips and gently rubbing them as a means to ease your discomfort.

“What were you saying about my little dick?” Younghoon sneers and you have to fight back the whine that threatens to slip out of you. He’s just over halfway in when you force yourself to give up, the stretch beginning to be too much for you to handle. “I could’ve prepped you, y’know? Made this easier for us both.”

You can only lower your head onto his shoulder, biting harshly into the skin while he flips you around and pushes your legs up toward your chest. 

“Hold these here, sweetheart.” You do as he says, gasping sharply when he begins to sink into you. 

“Fuck, Younghoon!” 

“Shhh,” he kisses you gently while continuing to press into you, using the width of his shoulders to gently spread your legs a bit further apart. “‘M almost there, I promise.”

“‘S too much,” you whimper, a tear slipping out of your eye and dripping onto the carpeted floor below you. “‘S too much, Hoonie.”

“I know sweetheart,” he coos and looks down at where the two of you are connected. He fights the sudden urge to cum when he sees the fluttering of your walls, sees them clenching around him, and trying to force him out. “I’m almost there.” 

Another whine from you and he quickly slides the last three inches into you, clapping a hand over your mouth to muffle the scream you release. He stays still for a moment, listening to the sound of you sniffling, and turns his head briefly to look at the door. A shadow passes by and he exhales quietly. 

“And you were worried about me being too loud. Who’s the one with a hand over her mouth, hm?” You can’t don’t respond and Younghoon pulls out entirely, leaving just the tip inside of you, and when you whine and let go of one of your legs to reach out for him, he sinks into you in one harsh thrust. 

The moan you let out behind Younghoon’s hand is guttural, and your back arches off the floor. His thrusts are rapid, yet he doesn’t falter in pattern. He sinks deep inside of you, punching into you so deep that you swear he’s going to hit your cervix. He lets his hand drop from your mouth listening to the way you try to hold back your noises. Every whine, every whimper and moan and cry, you try so hard for him. 

“Such a good girl,” he coos. “Keeping quiet and letting me fuck her real good.” His voice is so quiet, the words practically hissed into your ear and it’s so hot that your eyes roll into the back of your head. 

Your grip on your legs loosens and then your hands drop them entirely, letting them fall onto his sturdy shoulders. He watches as both of your hands disappear under your shirt and he feels a pang of irritation as you begin to play with your nipples. They draw sharper noises out of you, higher in pitch and slightly louder. Although, Younghoon can’t complain when the combined pleasure has your cunt fluttering around him and fresh waves of arousal washing through you to make it easier for him to fuck in and out of you.

“Hoon,” your whine is loud. Too loud. “So close, please!” 

Younghoon hushes you again, his hand running up the side of your leg and squeezing at the flesh of your thigh. 

“I know, sweetheart,” he tells you. “You gotta be quiet f’ me. Gotta be quiet so nobody walks in, okay?” 

“I can’t.” You sob out and Younghoon pushes himself closer to you, practically folding you in half so he can kiss you. You open up immediately, whining and letting him slide his tongue in for you to suck on.

Younghoon’s hips begin to stutter, his body shaking against yours, but you’re closer. Your body spasms, and you nip at his tongue to keep him close to you while you cum. Younghoon grunts at the combined feeling of your bites and the clenching of your walls around his length. It’s all a bit too much and it only takes a few more thrusts before he’s shuddering and collapsing against you, spilling ropes of white hot cum inside of you. 

He can feel the combination of his and your cum beginning to squeeze out of you around the tight fit of his dick inside of you, but he doesn’t have the strength to pull out of you just yet. You’ve stopped biting at him, your eyes squeezed shut and your mouth slowly sucking at the warm muscle he continues to provide you. 

Your body is sore, your thighs aching and likely bruised when you walk into your dorm a few hours later. You hadn’t gotten any work done after that, spending the rest of the time making out in a chair and grinding on each other like some damn horny teenagers. You know you’re a disaster, but you’re more than content with that knowing that Younghoon looks the same (if not worse). 

When the door clicks shut, it’s dark in the suite and you silently thank god that Dawon and Suyeon are asle—

“Where the fuck have you been?”

The lights flick on to reveal your two friends at the counter in the suite’s living area. Dawon looks furious, but Suyeon looks like she just wants to go to be. You grimace, dropping your bag off your shoulder and onto the ground next to you. 

“Out.” Your voice is hoarse and you grimace. You imagine your throat is a little bit bruised from…things.

“Doing what.” Dawon snaps.

“Or who, judging by the looks of you.” Suyeon clicks her tongue and rises from the couch. “Look at you! It looks like someone tried to eat you!” 

Dawon squints at you, and you turn your gaze to the floor. 

“You fucked him, didn’t you?” She inquires, but you both already know the answer. 

“Who?” Suyeon frowns. “Who did she fuck?”

Your nose wrinkles, and you turn to her with a look that says I think you know. Suyeon tilts her head, her eyebrows knitting together in thought. 

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” 

“Oh. OH— OH MY GOD—”

The Tau Beta Zeta frat house isn’t as bad as you thought it would be. At least not party-wise. The moment you and your friends walk in, you’re engulfed in noise, drunk partygoers, and scattered members of the frat. In one corner you can see what looks like two members of the frat making out with their girlfriends. Haknyeon and Changmin, Dawon said, Too bad they couldn’t find a private space. Damn exhibitionists. A smile quirks on your lips just slightly. Oh, if only she knew the truth.

You barely acknowledge her, however, scanning the room for Younghoon. 

“Eric!” You grab the passing boy by the arm and he jerks to a stop, nearly spilling the contents of two cups. 

“Yo!” He grins at you, and you can just faintly see the crinkle of his eyes under the red baseball cap of his. “What’s up?”

“Have you seen Younghoon?” Eric purses his lips in thought.

“You aren’t gonna kill him, right?” You laugh and so does he.

“No, not anymore. Or…I might if he doesn’t show up soon—”

“BOO!” Someone’s hands wrap around your waist lifting you off the ground and spinning you as you scream for him to put you down. Eric slips away, casting his eyes behind him to watch you and Younghoon as he approaches a girl in the corner. 

“Kim Younghoon!” You snap, swatting him upside the head. Your boyfriend smirks at you, bending down to try and give you a kiss that you block. “Don’t kiss me, you douche! That wasn’t funny!”

“It was kinda funny,” he laughs, swooping in to give a kiss that you choose not to block this time. It’s deep and slow, and he tilts his head to get a better taste of you when you bring your hand to the back of his neck. 

“Mmm, I think I like it when you don’t hate me.” He murmurs when he pulls back, grinning wickedly when you place a kiss on the corner of his mouth. 

“Do you now?” 

“Mhm.”

“Shouldn’t have scared me then.” You scowl, turning away from him and beginning to stalk away. He scrambles after you, frantically trying to keep up despite the crowd. 

“Where are you going?” He whines, grasping at your fingertips. You turn your head, a coy smile playing on your lips. 

“We gotta let loose, don’t we? We’re a little tense right now.” 

A puddle of drool is practically forming in Younghoon’s mouth and he’s suddenly in front of you, moving with a renewed fervor. 

When the door of the third bedroom on the right of the third floor shuts and clicks locked, nobody questions it. Not the thumping, nor the loud grunts and moans. 

When someone needs to let loose, people know better than to interrupt. Especially when it’s Younghoon and his former-crush-turned-enemy-turned-girlfriend.

© itsbeeble. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[oh-stars]

Topps

Love is secretly studying up on the nerd shit he’s into.

a @steddielovemonth prompt | 2249 words | CW: N/A | Rating: T

--

It’s not often that they all make their way to Indianapolis. It’s no Chicago and getting everyone together to make a big trip of it is getting harder and harder every month. But Will’s birthday falls in line with the grand opening of a new collectibles store that promises shiny new dice and rare items among their comics and board game memorabilia. How could anyone deny his pleading eyes to make it a part of his birthday celebration: to go see the store and find a place to eat, a day trip that’s on the simpler side. 

Eddie’s just as excited as the boys are, but he’s more surprised to find Steve is practically vibrating out of his skin with how eager he is to get to the store. He’s just not showing it in the same way the others are. It’s all vibrant eyes and small smiles, bouncing knees and one too many questions. 

Eddie’s still trying to figure out what he’s excited about. 

Over the last year, Eddie’s learned how to read Steve Harrington. The man may think he keeps an even, cool composure about everything, but Eddie’s an expert in the minor details to figure out how Steve really feels. When he talks to Hopper about some sports thing, his hands will have a small tremor and he stumbles over his words sometimes, always playing it off as some headache or not getting enough sleep if you point it out. Eddie knows better, he knows Steve gets so excited that he can’t contain it and is embarrassed at how eager he is to share it, about his interests all together. 

The kids don’t help, he knows. Outside of Lucas, the others just tease him for being a meathead jock or some other bullshit insult – pulling the same shit they get bullied with, the same shit Eddie encouraged. He’s trying to get them to see how fucked up it is, but it’s a work in progress. 

They’re driving separately so Eddie doesn’t get to watch Steve’s excitement build other than the glimpses he gets in his rearview mirror of Steve, Robin, and the girls singing along to whatever mundane Top 40 shit they’re blasting. He’d listen to the shitty music with Steve over Dustin and Mike arguing over D&D editions any day, though. At least he can control the volume of the music… 

“I’m this close,” Eddie holds up his pinched fingers, “to leaving you on the side of the road,” he tells them. 

Dustin rolls his eyes. “Steve wouldn’t let you.” 

“I think I can convince him,” Eddie says with a smirk. Only Robin knows about their relationship, even now after it’s been a year, but that doesn’t mean the kids don’t know they’re close. They know they’re inseparable and good friends. Just not… naked in bed, touchy-feely ‘friends,’ ya know?  “We’re nearly at the store. Can you at least pause the screaming match until you have the editions in front of you for proper comparison?” 

That buys Eddie a few minutes of just his music as the boys have a more reasonable discussion to figure out how to split their small funds to maximize their haul. They may be turning sixteen this year, but they’re not exactly loaded. It’s the same shit he and the guys used to pull, and sometimes… still do. It’s nice seeing them like actual kids for a little while longer. 

But he’s still happy to climb out of his van and meet back up with Steve and the gang. 

He slings an arm over Steve’s shoulders, feels how keyed up he is and how his muscles are tense despite the relaxed looking posture. “Are you mortals ready to blow your minds?” Eddie asks, voice rumbly as he leans in to stare at the girls. 

Max rolls her eyes as Erica levels him with a stare of her own. 

“Let’s go already!” Dustin calls back as the guys are already booking it toward the store. 

Nancy and Jonathan have only just pulled up as the group passes. Robin, Jane, and Max wait for them, happy to hang back from this particular stop on their day. Or maybe they’re scheming about Will’s surprise that the rest of them have been left in the dark about. 

Either way, Eddie doesn’t drop his arm from Steve’s shoulders until they reach the door. 

The store’s packed with nerds of all ages, shuffling here and there as they browse the small space. It’s like nerd paradise, with walls of collectibles and big crates of comics and books, and big displays of art and promotions everywhere. It even has that musty book smell he loves so much! 

Eddie squeezes Steve’s shoulder before he completely drops his arm. “Permission to go feral?”

Steve rolls his eyes, but shoves Eddie lightly. “Go. Have fun,” he says. 

“You could always follow me, you know. Don’t want you getting lost,” Eddie says, getting back into Steve’s space even as his eyes flickered around the space. 

“I’ll come find you, okay?” Steve says, then he walks away with his hands in his pockets like he’s just strolling through the store. But Eddie can see the sharp way his eyes are searching the space, hunting for something. It’s enough to have Eddie trailing behind him, eager to figure out this mystery. 

Okay so Eddie gets briefly distracted by a wall of dragon figurines, but he manages to pull himself away when he sees the price tags are dangerously close to having commas. He stumbles his way around, only getting swept into conversation with Will once about the variety of figures they have and able to dodge Dustin’s badgering about the new Justice League comic. 

He finds Steve hunched over a glass case that’s near the cash register, at the far end where people aren’t huddled around looking at trading cards or the pricer collectibles. Eddie tucks himself partially behind a bookshelf so he can see Steve from the side. He watches as Steve’s eyes squint and he squats lower to look at the case from a new perspective. It takes a lot of effort to not let his own eyes wander to how his ass puts his Levi’s to the test, but Eddie’s stronger than that (sort of).

And because of that strength, Eddie gets the rare experience of seeing Steve’s eyes light up as his jaw drops. He looks… in awe of whatever he’s found, like someone just showed him the Holy Grail. 

Eddie can’t help himself as he walks over. Steve’s so entranced, he doesn’t even notice. For a split second, Eddie feels that familiar panic creep up his throat before he hears a soft “holy shit,” from Steve. 

On this side of the case are… sports cards. Trading cards of different sports people in various conditions, some are in little wrappers, some in packs, and others loose in the glass display case. Huh. Go figure. 

He’s kind of surprised, if Eddie’s honest with himself, he never would have taken Steve for a collector of any kind, much less trading cards. But here he is, so amazed at whatever he’s found that he still hasn’t noticed Eddie’s presence. 

Eddie squats down beside him, knees popping with the movement, and rests his forehead on the glass. “Which one is it?” 

Steve curses under his breath as he jumps, snapping out of it. “Jesus, Eds,” he says, standing up. 

“Sorry,” Eddie says with a grin. “Seriously, though. Which is it?” 

His face is red and he looks almost ashamed to be caught staring at the cards. “Find anything cool yet?” Steve asks, shoving his hands into his pockets. 

Eddie frowns. “Steve…” 

Steve just shakes his head and turns his back on the glass. “Looks like Lucas found something,” he says with a forced laugh as he points to where Lucas is struggling to carry a few different boxes of figurines as he searches for the others in the busy store. 

“And so did you,” Eddie says softly as he stands beside him, shoulders touching. “Trading cards, huh?” 

He just shrugs. 

“I think it’s pretty cool,” Eddie says. “I don’t know anything about them but,” he glances back at the rows and rows of cards, some with tiny words and charts, “those stats have to mean something. And you know how I am about stats, Stevie.” 

Steve rolls his eyes. “They’re player stats, Eddie. It’s from their games and shit.” He sighs. “You don’t… don’t have to pretend it’s cool, man. Just sports shit, right?” 

“Hey,” Eddie says, a little more forceful, “I don’t mind sports shit, remember? We had fun watching that basketball game the other day.” 

“You were just being nice,” Steve says. 

“No,” Eddie counters, “I was a little confused on the language and how it works, but I love seeing you get passionate about something you love, Steve. Even if it means seeing how angry you get at whatever the refs are saying.” 

Steve’s face darkens as he grumbles out, “It was a shit call.” He hasn’t been able to let it go since they watched it. 

“C’mon,” Eddie says, turning back to the case, “will you just show me which one you like?” 

“It’s not necessarily about liking them,” Steve starts, turning as well, “but the players themselves.” 

Eddie hums. “So which player did you find?” 

“Nolan Ryan,” Steve breathes out, pointing at the card, “he’s a pitcher for the Astros and that,” he lets out a whistle, “is a rare 1985 Tiffany.” 

“What makes it rare?” Eddie asks. 

Steve waves him off. “Don’t worry about that–”

“No,” Eddie insists. “I told you, in detail, about my Lord of the Rings theories and you listened to every word. Let me hear about your Tiffany card.” 

“It’s not mine,” Steve reminds him. 

Eddie nudges his shoulder. “Steve.” 

Steve lets out a breath and runs a hand through his hair. “Okay, so the cards are printed here, right? Like it’s one of their things? But the Tiffany cards aren’t, they’re printed in Ireland. And you see how that one is a little brighter than the one next to it?” He doesn’t wait for Eddie’s response. “They printed the Tiffany sets on white cardboard instead of gray. And they only made a limited run of the sets, right? So to just… find one,” he says, voice soft and light, “and Nolan Ryan’s card at that?” He whistles. “Kind of a big deal.” 

“So you’re getting it, right?” 

Steve shrugs again. “Maybe I’ll drive up later for it. I don’t want to deal with the kids–” 

“We’ll put it in my bag. I haven’t even really started to look, but you know I’m emptying my wallet in here, right?” Eddie says, smiling. 

“Why haven’t you looked?” Steve asks, brow furrowing. “We’ve been here for twenty minutes, Eds, what have you been doing?” 

Eddie feels his face soften as he tilts his head and plays with a strand of his hair. “There’s this guy I’ve got a thing for,” he whispers, “and he was really excited to come to some nerd store, but wouldn’t tell me why. So I had to figure it out myself.” 

Steve’s blushing again as he looks away. “C’mon,” he says, grabbing Eddie by the elbow, “show me what you want to look at.” 

He allows Steve to change the subject and does look for himself, but he doesn’t forget the wistful look in Steve’s eyes when they end up by the case again for check-out. 

“Hey,” Eddie says, mostly to Nancy and Robin who have joined them in line, “should we send some of us down to the restaurant?” 

Nancy looks at her watch, then at the line. “Yes, that’s not a bad idea.” 

Steve nods and hands Eddie some cash. “Just in case the kids need help. Nance, Rob and I’ll go check in at the restaurant. See you there?” 

Eddie lets the three of them walk out the door before he steps out of the line. Sure, he’ll lose his place, but it’s worth it. 

“Excuse me,” Eddie says to an employee behind the counter, “I need to get this card.”

The guy knows his shit, so while the line dwindles, Eddie takes the opportunity to ask some questions. He even gets a few more card packs from the newest run, card holders and sleeves to put them in, and a booklet that explains the set. There’s even a book on the history of the game that the cashier suggests; Eddie doesn’t hesitate to buy it all. Sure, he had to put away a few figures and the new dice set he found, but it’s worth it. 

He hides all of his new goods in with his other nerdy shit and carefully puts his bag in the glove box so it doesn’t get mixed up with the kids’ bags. “You guys ready?” Eddie asks, arms draped over Mike and Will’s shoulders. 

As they walk to the restaurant for the next stop in their plans, Eddie listens to the kids share about their hauls and what they want to come back for. It all goes in one ear and out the other, too busy mulling over the information he learned from the cashier. He’s kind of surprised by how excited he is to read the materials he bought, but he really can’t wait to give Steve the card. 

Now if he can just get Steve to admit he’s a nerd, too, it’d be icing on the cake.  

--

Thanks to @lady-lostmind for betaing!

Ao3 Link

[steddieas-shegoes]

Request: video gamer Steve who is very very private & constantly has competitions with his friends/followers. But one day he does & q&a and someone asks him about his ring/necklace (or something that is noticeable) & he talks about his partner. & Eddie who is a well known musician who talks about his partner Steve. And somehow their fans put it together that Steddie are together. Then they do a really cute q&a on Steve's channel all about their relationship & its really cute

MY LOVE!!! Honestly, if Liam didn't watch so many gamers on YouTube, I would be so clueless. I never got into video games (because I'm so so bad at them you guys it is actually embarrassing) and I never really watched streamers on YouTube or anything. But I know that some of them have like a cult following and so I am picturing Steve to be one of those here. Please don't ask what games he would play because this is a choose your own adventure part of the story. - Mickala ❤️

-----------------------------------------------------

Everyone made fun of Steve for how much he talked with his hands. Even on camera, his hands were constantly in the frame, moving and emphasizing his passion for whatever game he was playing for that stream.

He should have realized that wearing a ring on his usually bare hands would have given him away.

It was his first livestream competition since Eddie proposed on their trip to the Maldives.

He was still a little high off of, well, everything, and he wasn’t thinking clearly.

He ignored the first question that popped up.

who got you that ring?

He shared some basic personal stuff with his fans and followers, but he kept most things private, especially his relationship.

But then questions kept coming in.

R U ENGAGED???

usually the girl wears the ring right

If you’re taken I might have to unsubscribe

The last one made him pause.

It’s not like he was an idiot, he knew that there would always be a handful of people who followed him because he was attractive. He didn’t mind, especially because some of them would message him and explain that they ended up getting into games because of him.

“Okay, wait. Sorry guys. Um. I wanna address something before we start the actual stream.” He held his hand up, looking over at the ring Eddie proposed with. “I share a lot with you guys. I came out about a year ago during a stream as bisexual, and it really shouldn’t have been much of a shock, but it caused a bit of a…thing.” He grimaced. “And I guess most of the reason that I came out then was because my boyfriend had come out as well, and it felt like something we could do together without actually doing it together. Most of you know I was just gone for a week on a much needed vacation. I was with my boyfriend, and he proposed while we were there. I said yes because he is the only person I’ve ever wanted to spend my life with.”

Steve put his hand down, sighing.

“I understand if that makes some of you unfollow me, but I do hope you look at yourself and try to come to terms with why that is what makes you unfollow someone you enjoy watching. Anyways, the ring is beautiful, and it's a simpler version of one he wears every day, so it means even more.”

He felt relieved, but also a little stressed, and knew he’d be calling Eddie as soon as this was over to talk to him about everything.

“Let’s get gaming!” He gave his best smile to the camera.

—-------------------------------------

“Yeah, we had a nice week off together, alone, and I finally got to propose. I don’t think we left the bed for 24 hours after that,” Eddie laughed.

The interviewer laughed too, used to Eddie’s jokes and blunt answers.

“I’m glad you got to spend some time just the two of you. This has been a busy world tour for you and Corroded Coffin and you’re only halfway through!” The interviewer, Hannah, stated. She smiled at him when he nodded. “Anything new planned for the second half of the tour?”

“We can’t give out secrets, Hannah, you know that,” Eddie smirked. “But Gareth did say I should tell you about one thing.”

Gareth definitely had a crush on Hannah and had pouted endlessly about being scheduled for a different interview at the same time as Eddie’s interview with her.

“Oh?” she leaned forward, eyes gleaming.

She maybe had a crush on him, too.

“He actually wrote a song that’ll be on our next album. He doesn’t usually get bit with the writing bug, but someone’s inspired him,” he winked at her, smiling at her blush. “Anyway, it’s been added to the setlist for the second leg of the tour and we’re all really excited for everyone to hear it.”

Eddie felt his phone vibrating in his pocket multiple times. All the guys knew he was in an interview and couldn’t answer a call, so who the hell was calling him?

It was easy enough to ignore through Hannah’s next question, until it started again.

He reached in his pocket and checked to see who it was, eyes going wide when he saw ‘Stevie’ with a picture of them on their vacation lighting up his screen.

Steve never called twice in a row unless it was an emergency. He knew if Eddie didn’t answer, he was truly busy.

He felt his heart racing as he looked back up at Hannah, who instantly seemed to catch on to something happening.

“We’re going to a commercial break, but when we’re back, Eddie’s gonna share a few hints about the next album!” Hannah said, immediately shutting the mics off and gesturing for him to get up.

Eddie took off his headphones and stood, walking out of the room as he answered the phone.

“Sweetheart, are you okay?”

“I’m sorry to bother you, I just-”

“Hey, no, it’s not bothering me. I was just in a radio interview with Hannah so we had to cut to commercial break before I could answer. What’s wrong?” he asked, concerned that something terrible had happened.

“Fuck, I forgot that was right now. I’m sorry. Call me back when you get to the bus,” Steve seemed like he was trying to rush off the phone.

“No, Stevie, wait. What’s wrong?” his tone was firm enough to let Steve know he wasn’t going to let this drop.

“Um. I just had a livestream thing. And like, people asked about the ring, so I told them I was engaged and some people just didn’t take it that well and then I went online and some people have apparently put it together that the Steve you talk about is me because of something I mentioned about my vacation and something you posted about the vacation and so I think everyone’s gonna know and I’m sorry,” Steve was panting by the end, speaking a million miles an hour literally taking the breath from him.

“Okay, well, we knew this would probably happen eventually, my love. I’ll just call the guys and we can talk to Chrissy about it if it gets picked up by the media. No reason to panic,” Eddie tried to calm him down while watching through the window to the recording booth where Hannah seemed to be introducing a song to kill more time.

“But I ruined our plan!”

“No, love. People ruined our plan. And it’s okay, anyway. We’ll figure it out.”

“But your fans will be mad that it’s me. I’m just…me!”

“You’re not just anything and any fan of mine who says or thinks that, isn’t a fan,” Eddie sighed. “I love you, and we will figure this out. Whatever we gotta do, okay?”

Steve let out a long breath before responding.

“I love you too. Tell Hannah I said hi?”

“Of course. I love you so much, okay? ‘Til death and beyond.”

Steve let out a small laugh.

“You’re not allowed to use those lyrics in the vows. But I love you so much, too.”

“We can discuss that later. I wrote you a very metal love song that I fully intend to use some of in the vows. Okay, bye!”

He hung up before Steve could argue and walked back into the studio, mouthing an apology to Hannah, who just waved it off with a smile.

Everything would be fine.

—-------------------------------------------

“The lighting isn’t ideal, but it’ll be fine,” Steve was pacing, double checking his set up while Eddie watched.

He tried helping, but kept being told not to touch things, so he ended up just sitting on the hotel bed.

Steve had traveled halfway across the country to do this, his stress was at an all-time high, and Eddie didn’t need to get his head bitten off.

“Five minutes,” Steve said, shaking his hands nervously.

“Come here, sweetheart,” Eddie said, waving him over to the bed.

“No, you’ll distract me.”

“Yes, which is exactly what you need for a minute. Come here.”

Steve sighed, but went over to him, dropping onto the bed and resting his head against Eddie’s shoulder.

“What’s got you so worried?”

“Everything.”

Eddie sighed.

“But specifically.”

“I just don’t want you or the guys to lose fans because of me,” Steve was playing with the edges of the hole in Eddie’s jeans absentmindedly.

“Sweet boy, we lose fans because we endorse a certain amp brand over another. We’ll be fine.”

“This is bigger, though. I’m just a nobody who got lucky on YouTube playing some games,” Steve whined.

“And I loved you before that. If they don’t want me to be happy, they aren’t real fans anyway. You’re my future, not whatever woman still thinks she has a shot with my gay ass,” Eddie said.

“But it isn’t just you who suffers.”

“None of us suffer. We lose some homophobic, idiotic fans who shouldn’t ever have claimed to be fans at all. None of us want people like that around.”

Steve’s alarm went off to signal one minute before the livestream started.

He jumped up and pulled Eddie up with him.

They’d already gone over everything together, discussed it with Chrissy and the guys, even Steve’s manager, Robin, about how this would work.

Steve would pretty much act like it was any other livestream, but Eddie would be there for the first five minutes or so so they could do a quick explanation of things.

Eddie would do a phone interview with Hannah in 30 minutes while Steve was gaming, covering a bit more and answering some questions about their relationship.

Then they’d both have a night off to decompress in the hotel before Steve had to fly back home and Eddie had to head to the next tour stop.

Hopefully, the buzz would die down relatively quickly.

Steve did his normal intro, but Eddie’s hand rested on his knee out of sight, squeezing once when he heard his voice start to shake a little while introducing Eddie.

“There’s been some rumors about us, and we just wanna be completely honest about things so that the rumors stop,” Steve continued. “First of all, we’ve been together for almost four years. Way before I got anywhere with YouTube, before Corroded Coffin had even released their first album. And we were friends long before that.”

“Even though I had the biggest crush on him in high school, I didn’t admit I was in love with him until we both moved to Chicago. Wasted years,” Eddie shook his head.

“Second,” Steve smirked, looking over at him for a moment. “The week off in the middle of his tour had been planned for Jeff to go home and be with his family for his wife’s birthday and daughter’s graduation.”

“Anyone who thinks Steve threw a fit about needing a vacation and made the band take a break is just saying so out of spite that we had to move around one of the tour dates to make the week off work. It’s not up to you to come up with a narrative,” Eddie added, brow raised like he was chastising children.

“And finally, most importantly, what either of us choose to share is up to us. We do not owe anyone any explanations. Our relationship is ours. Being public figures already takes away a lot of our autonomy, and this is something neither of us will budge on. We are willing to share our happiness, but we are not willing to let everyone become a part of our life together.”

Sometimes, Steve said things in such a way that Eddie couldn’t do anything but stare at him in awe. He loved him more than anything, and sometimes the only thing he could do was kiss him.

He did so now, not exactly forgetting they were live streaming, just not really caring.

Steve tensed for a second, but then relaxed, cupping his cheek and smiling into the kiss.

Eddie pulled away and looked back at the camera.

“On that note, I’m gonna leave Steve here to his gaming. If you aren’t nice, I’ll ban you from Corroded Coffin shows for life,” he waved before standing and leaving the camera’s view.

Steve rolled his eyes, but smiled fondly as Eddie walked out of the bedroom, blowing kisses back at Steve the entire way.

—-------------------------------------------

After that, Eddie made random appearances on Steve’s live streams, and Steve flew out to a handful of shows to support Eddie.

It’s not that they were hiding before, but they just hadn’t felt like they should have to try to.

Now they didn’t.

Steve even did a Q&A with the band on tour while playing games with them.

They were all pretty terrible at it, complaining most of the time about how D&D was so much easier than this. Eddie didn’t play, but he sat next to Steve and braided his hair while he kicked their asses, asking them all the questions that popped up from people watching.

When he got to one for him, he smiled and kissed the top of Steve’s head.

“This question is for me. How did you know Steve was the one?” The guys all groaned, but they were smiling. “Well, I knew he was the one back in my first senior year. I tripped on the step into the gym and Steve was the only one there. He helped me up and smiled at me, and I was a goner.”

“He’s lying to you all,” Steve said without looking away from the game. “He knew when I made him homemade banana bread. His exact words were, ‘I’m gonna marry you so hard someday, Harrington.’ and then six months later he proposed.”

“Both can be true,” Eddie pouted.

Steve paused the game and turned to him, kissing the tip of his nose.

“Every moment I have with you proves you’re the one for me,” he said before turning back to the game and leaving Eddie silently shocked.

“This is the last time we come on this thing, Steve,” Gareth said.

“Yeah. You broke him,” Jeff agreed.

[velvetlilacsdaisies]

Fourth Wing Men HCs: nicknames for him

Includes: Bodhi Durran, Garrick Tavis

A/n: I haven’t wrote some headcannons in a HOT minute, but me and @garricks4thwingqueen have been conspiring and inspired me to take a whack at it again. These got a smidge long, so I will make a part 2 with more characters, and other scenarios, but you know who had to start with! I also included some AI pics I’ve been cooked up that are mashes of my fancasts ideas for the characters. I have the hardest times visualizing a lot of characters and places in stories and sometimes the AIs I’ve seen all look alike or aren’t itching the right part of my brain. Disclaimer: I tried to take into consideration book accuracy, but AI is AI and I only dabble w it on my phone. So I’ll take what I can get. Skin tones, hair, proportions may not be perfect. These just personally help get a better concept, and I find fun to make, and anddd risking forgetting about a free 7 day trail from time to time 🕳️🤸‍♀️ *muah* enjoy!

Warnings: swearing, underage drinking/smoking (if u squint), suggestive content

Bodhi Durran

Bo/Boh, beau, bowie, Bo Bo, babe, love

Xaden and him are maternal cousins. While the firstborn always had the weight of responsibility growing up being an heir by his parents. The younger cousin was always ‘coddled’ by his. Though he adored his family, he hated how they always doted on him. Mainly because of how much his older cousin and his best friend would tease him about it.

Xaden and Garrick started cooing “Bowie” and “Bo Bo” at him when they were 12, he was 11.

“Bowie, don’t forget to write to me.” “Bowie, be good for your uncle.” “Oh Bo Bo don’t you look so handsome today!” They’d snicker to him under their breaths when he’d arrive at the fortress when his mom would drop him before flying out to an outpost. Watching how his cheeks flushed red, and he had tight balled fists pressed at his sides.

Once the doors closed, after formal introductions with his Uncle and lingering personal staff were done, and once the adults a room away—he would hurl one of his clenched fists at their shoulders.

Starting a playful brawl amongst the three

Spoiler alert: Bo Bo back then lost once or twice…maybe a handful of times

Then as awkward teenagers when problems were simpler the three of the pubescent boys discovered churam and drinking. Bodhi started unironically calling himself Bo Bo and Bowie, mockingly teasing himself as a ‘bit’.

The young men were sat around a fire in the clearing to the outside of Riorson House. Xaden and Garrick in a heated debate over a petty topic. “Bo Bo can’t comprehend what’s going on right now.” He would say, exaggerating and scratching his the top of his head. It had been effective for the most part to ease the tension between his friends

Now from time to time, he’ll still do it especially if you’re present. He always thought you looked cute as you shook your head with a crooked smile spread across your face when he did it

Sometimes fhd guys would find him doing something badass, you’ll hear triumphant whooping from Xaden and Garrick, endearingly using the nicknames they called him as a child

“Go Bowie!” “Bo Bo that was fucking awesome!” “Bowie! Bowie! Bowie!”

But if anyone else besides the select few called him those names, he’d glare daggers at them. Like the time Ridoc tried to call him Bo Bo during lunch while the group was joking around

Bodhi’s boyish grin disappeared instantaneously. “If you ever call me that, I will rip your tongue out.”

The first time he heard you call him Bowie tho, he nearly melted. It was one of the first times you slept over with him and he had to get up early for a leadership meeting

You propped up on elbow, using your other hand to wipe the sleep from your eyes. “Do you have to go, Bowie?” A small pout on your lips watching him get dressed

His other pet names from you were selective, usually just calling him Bo/Boh, but your favorites were Babe and Love

Babe being the one you leaned towards the most

especially when you would catch him doing something ridiculous or he’d press your buttons. Or just when you wanted something

“Babe? Are you kidding me?” “Babe stop!”

“Babe can you get me another drink, please?” You asked, looking up from your lashes with puppy dog eyes. He folded every time no matter if you were closer to the serving station or bar. How could he say no when you gave him that look? Not caring, flipping all his friends off as they’d give him knowing smiles.

He was a simp for you

Love was usually reserved for tender moments with him. When you’d notice he’d be having a bad day, or to calm him down when you’d notice he was fuming silently beside you at something going on

Intertwining your fingers with his giving a reassuring squeeze. “It’s alright, Love.”

Or holding his cheeks, bringing him to eye level with you. “I’m here, Love. Can you take a couple deep breaths for me?”

Sometimes you broke out the corny double entendre of beau. Very select people would get it, but you thought it was great

Mainly you’d be out to the taverns with your friends when you’d use it. Usually when a girl would approach him, and you’d try to hide your jealousy tho it was plain as day

“He’s actually my beau.” You’d say, a sinisterly sweet smile on your face when a girl tried to introduce herself. Your hand twirling the curls at the nape of his neck. Bodhi would always shiver from the gesture, trying to contain his arousal at your possessiveness

Then later in the night, he’d pin you to the wall of his room. Pressing feverish kisses up the column of your throat. “Are you gonna show me all the way I’m your beau?” He muttered before grazing the delicate skin with his teeth

Garrick Tavis

Gare, Tavis, Gary, Gare Bear, Hon/Honey, Sir

His parents tried to call him Gary at one point growing up, but he always ignored them or begged them not to call him that. It always sounded so stupid to him

Garrick was blunt, dry, and straight to the point not caring for nicknames. Only really preferring to be called by his name or Gare on occasion by his friends and acquaintances. His last name an even better alternative than a nickname

But Xaden, Imogen, and Bodhi took a sick pleasure in all the creative corny nicknames his parents would try to make a thing for him growing up.

“I think we oughta get Gary’s input?” Imogen leaned her chin in her hand as they all discussed weekend plans after school looking over at the towering young man. The side of her mouth crookedly lilting upward, knowing she struck a nerve. Garrick could already feel his eye twitch, clenching his quill as he acted like he hadn’t heard them a few feet away at the table in the library.

“It seems Gare Bear’s not in the mood today.” Xaden would casually lean back in his chair, smirking, and watching his best friend stroll into the dining room late for dinner time after a terrible day

Which would result in Garrick walking by, and tipping his chair back causing the Riorson to flail and fall backwards. “Relax asshole,” Xaden hissed, rubbing his head.

To this day they still called him the silly names. Taking immense pride when you had picked up on the memo, and started to call Garrick the names he despised. Especially because you two weren’t each others favorite people at first

The first time it happened, it was when Garrick pissed you off. He had been criticizing all your sparring movements, and you had enough. “Sorry we can’t all be perfect like you, Gare Bear.” You’d sneer, watching the irritation form on his face.

“Do not call me that.” He’d glower, but you’d just smile brightly. “Whatever you say…Gare Bear.”

Seeing how it got under his skin, from that moment on you’d always call him just to pester him. Enjoying the glare he’d shoot your way or awaiting for whatever witty remark he’d reply

Eventually once you two started getting along, you called him his first name, being more considerate towards his feelings. Garrick’s chest filling with disappointment as he awaited the usual Gare Bear falling from your pretty lips.

“Hey Garrick,” it was a rare moment when you found him by himself. None of your mutual friends around for once, and one of the first interactions you had alone. “What?” He looked up from what he doing. “I said hey?” You gave him a weird look. “But you called me Garrick.” He said in disbelief. “That’s your name isn’t it?” “You always call me Gare Bear tho.”

That’s when you realized he secretly liked it despite him trying to act annoyed at you.

Then when you had officially started dating, he had to get used to fact you loved calling him all these terms of endearment. Deep down, loving how you could make him become bashful by your words

“Here you go, Honey.” Leaning down, kissing his cheek, setting down a dish of apple crisp in front of him. You knew how much he liked the dessert and grabbed an extra one when getting your dinner. Garrick’s cheeks tinged red and chuckled appreciatively, “you’re the best.” His friends just silently stared as if you two had three heads. “What’s the matter?” You asked the group unphased, taking a seat. “You broke him.” Imogen replied in awe.

You had changed his perception on being called nicknames. Even letting it slide when his friends poked fun at him with the once despicable nicknames

Out of all the nicknames you called him, his favorite by far was the one you’d use in the bedroom.

“Please,” you begged, while sitting on your knees. “Please what?” Garrick gripped your chin between his thumb and forefinger. You gulped, “please Sir.” A cruel smirk on his face, pressing a small kiss to your lips. “Good girl.”

[cool-fancier]

The Perfect Gift

Synopsis: A surprise birthday party spirals into an intoxicating night of passion. As morning dawns, Lisa’s irresistible charm leaves you yearning for answers... and more.

Word Count:4.5K

The sun was just starting to set when your parents finally left your apartment, your mom lingering in the doorway as she gave you a final kiss on the cheek. “Are you sure you don’t want to come with us to dinner tonight?” she asked, her tone hopeful yet slightly overbearing.

You smiled, gently steering her towards the elevator. “I’m sure, Mom. You and Dad enjoy your night. I’ll be fine. It’s just another birthday.”

Your dad gave you a knowing look, placing a hand on your shoulder. “You deserve to have some fun tonight. Don’t just stay in and watch TV.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “I’ll try, Dad.”

After they left, the quiet of your apartment settled in. The day had been filled with warmth and affection, your parents’ presence a comforting reminder of simpler times. Yet now that they were gone, a strange loneliness crept in. You loved your parents, but their visits always left you feeling caught between being a responsible adult and the carefree person you sometimes wished you could still be.

With a sigh, you flopped onto the couch, scrolling through your phone aimlessly. You had a vague idea that your friends were planning something for tonight—they’d been suspiciously quiet all day—but without any concrete plans, you were tempted to just order takeout and call it a night.

But before you could act on that impulse, your phone buzzed with a text from Jisoo.

Jisoo: “Open your door. We’re here!”

You raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. Pushing yourself off the couch, you headed to the door and, with a deep breath, opened it.

Standing in the hallway were your closest friends, their faces lit up with excitement. Jisoo, Jennie, Rosé, and a few others you weren’t expecting, like Chaeyoung and Seulgi. They were holding balloons, a cake, and gift bags, all grinning like they’d just won the lottery.

“Surprise!” they shouted in unison, their voices echoing down the hallway.

Your heart swelled with warmth. “You guys!” You couldn’t help but laugh, feeling a mixture of joy and relief. “I thought you all forgot!”

Jennie stepped forward first, pulling you into a tight hug. “Forget your birthday? Not a chance.”

Rosé handed you a bright pink party hat. “Put this on, birthday girl. We’ve got a whole night planned just for you.”

You took the hat, slipping it on as you gestured them inside. “You guys are the best. I honestly didn’t expect this.”

Jisoo winked at you as she carried in a stack of presents. “That was the point. We wanted to surprise you.”

As they streamed into the living room, your apartment quickly transformed. Jennie connected her phone to the speakers, filling the room with your favorite playlist, while Seulgi and Chaeyoung decorated the space with streamers and banners that read “Happy Birthday!” in big, glittery letters. The cake was placed on the coffee table, surrounded by a sea of colorful gifts.

You couldn’t stop smiling as you watched your friends bring the party to life. It was exactly what you needed—a night of fun and laughter to shake off the day’s lingering melancholy.

— — — — —

The evening began with the usual: drinks were poured, the cake was cut, and presents were opened. Jisoo had gotten you that novel you’d been eyeing for weeks, Rosé had splurged on a luxurious spa kit, and Jennie presented you with a stunning piece of jewelry you’d admired on one of your shopping trips together. Each gift was thoughtful, a reminder of how well your friends knew you.

As the night wore on, the atmosphere grew increasingly relaxed, the buzz from the champagne making everyone a little more talkative, a little more playful. You were in the middle of recounting a funny story from work when Jennie nudged you, a sly smile on her face.

“We’ve got one more surprise for you,” she said, her voice full of mischief.

You looked at her warily, though you couldn’t suppress a grin. “What did you do, Jennie?”

She exchanged a look with Jisoo and Rosé, who were both grinning like they were in on some secret. “You’ll see,” Jennie said, her voice practically dripping with excitement.

Before you could question her further, the music changed. The light, upbeat tunes were replaced by a slow, seductive beat that sent a ripple of anticipation through the room. Your friends exchanged knowing glances, their excitement palpable as they all turned towards the hallway.

Your heart skipped a beat as the lights dimmed, the only illumination now coming from the soft glow of the fairy lights strung around the room. You could barely make out the figure stepping out of the shadows, but as they moved closer, your breath caught in your throat.

The woman who emerged was stunning—tall and lithe, with long, dark hair cascading over her shoulders. She was dressed in a sleek, black outfit that clung to her body in all the right places, accentuating her curves. Her eyes, lined with dark kohl, locked onto yours with an intensity that made your stomach flip.

“Everyone,” Jennie announced with a flourish, “meet Lisa. She’s here to help us celebrate.”

Your eyes widened as you realized what was happening. “No way,” you whispered, your cheeks burning. “Jennie, you didn’t…”

But Jennie just smirked, clearly pleased with herself. “Happy birthday, babe. Enjoy.”

Lisa’s smile was confident, almost predatory as she sauntered towards you, her hips swaying to the rhythm of the music. The air around her seemed to crackle with energy, and you felt an involuntary shiver run down your spine.

“Hey there,” she purred as she approached, her voice low and sultry. “Mind if I join you?”

You were too flustered to form a coherent response, so you simply nodded, feeling like a deer caught in the headlights. Lisa took that as an invitation, settling herself in your lap with a grace that left you breathless. She was warm, her body pressed against yours in a way that made your skin tingle.

Your friends erupted into cheers and catcalls, but all you could focus on was Lisa—her scent, her warmth, the way her eyes seemed to pierce right through you. She started to move, her hips rocking gently, teasingly, as she leaned in close, her breath hot against your ear.

“Happy birthday,” she whispered, her lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

Your breath hitched, and you felt a wave of heat rush through you. You’d never been in a situation like this before—never had someone like Lisa give you this kind of attention. It was overwhelming, arousing, and a little terrifying all at once.

Lisa seemed to sense your nervousness. She pulled back slightly, her gaze softening as she looked into your eyes. “Relax,” she said, her voice gentle. “I’m here to make sure you have a good time.”

You swallowed hard, trying to steady your racing heart. “I… I’ve never done this before,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Lisa’s smile was reassuring, almost tender as she reached up to cup your cheek. “Don’t worry. Just enjoy yourself.”

She leaned in again, this time capturing your lips in a slow, sensual kiss. The moment her lips touched yours, it was like a spark ignited within you, burning away your hesitation. You kissed her back, your hands instinctively finding their way to her waist, pulling her closer.

Lisa took that as her cue to take things up a notch. She deepened the kiss, her tongue sliding against yours in a way that made your head spin. Her hands roamed over your body, exploring, teasing, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

Your friends were still cheering, but their voices seemed distant, muffled by the pounding of your heart and the rush of blood in your ears. All you could focus on was the feel of Lisa’s body against yours, the way she was grinding against you in slow, deliberate circles, the heat building between you with every passing second.

You were getting lost in the sensation, your mind fogged with desire. You’d had a few drinks, sure, but this intoxication was something else entirely—something fueled by the way Lisa was touching you, kissing you, making you feel like the only person in the room.

Just as you were about to completely surrender to the moment, Jennie’s voice cut through the haze. “Alright, alright, I think we’ve had enough of a show,” she teased, though there was an undeniable edge of excitement in her tone. “We’ll leave you two alone now.”

You blinked, momentarily disoriented as you realized that your friends were starting to gather their things. Jennie, always the ringleader, was shooing everyone towards the door with a grin. “Go on, we’re leaving!”

You barely registered what was happening, still caught up in the haze of arousal that Lisa had stirred in you. “Wait, you guys don’t have to—” you started, but Jisoo cut you off with a knowing smile.

“Trust us, you’ll thank us later,” she said, giving you a wink. “Happy birthday!”

Before you could protest further, they were gone, leaving you alone with Lisa in the dimly lit room. The silence that followed was thick with anticipation, the air between you crackling with electricity.

Lisa slid off your lap, standing in front of you with a sultry smile. “Looks like it’s just us now,” she said, her voice a low, seductive purr that sent shivers down your spine.

You could barely breathe, your heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst out of your chest. The reality of the situation hit you like a tidal wave—you were alone with Lisa, the gorgeous, confident woman who had just given you the most arousing experience of your life, and now there was nothing stopping you from exploring where this could go.

Lisa didn’t wait for you to respond. She reached out, her fingers grazing your chin as she tilted your head up to look at her. The way her eyes roamed over your face made you feel naked, exposed, and yet undeniably excited.

“Come here,” she whispered, taking your hand and gently pulling you to your feet.

You followed her lead, feeling a strange mix of nervousness and anticipation. As she led you down the hallway towards your bedroom, you couldn’t help but notice how her hips swayed with every step, how the dim lighting highlighted the curves of her body in the most tantalizing way.

When you reached your bedroom, Lisa paused at the door, turning to face you. She let go of your hand and stepped closer, so close that you could feel the heat radiating off her body. Her hand came up to cup your cheek, her thumb brushing lightly over your bottom lip.

“You’re so beautiful,” she murmured, her eyes dark with desire.

The compliment made your breath hitch, and before you could second-guess yourself, you leaned in and kissed her. This time, the kiss was hungrier, more desperate, as if you were trying to convey all the pent-up desire you’d been feeling since the moment she walked into your apartment.

Lisa responded immediately, her arms wrapping around you as she pulled you closer, her body pressing against yours in a way that made your knees weak. The kiss deepened, her tongue tangling with yours, and you felt a low moan escape from deep within your throat.

You barely made it to the bed before the need to touch each other became too overwhelming. Clothes were discarded in a frantic haze, your hands exploring every inch of her body as she did the same to you. Her skin was soft and warm under your fingers, her breath hot against your neck as she kissed and nipped her way down your collarbone.

By the time you were both naked, your body was thrumming with need. Lisa pushed you gently onto the bed, crawling over you with a predatory grace that made your heart race. She hovered over you for a moment, her gaze roaming over your body, her eyes filled with hunger.

“You’re even more gorgeous than I imagined,” she whispered, her voice thick with lust.

You blushed, your hands coming up to grip her hips as she settled herself between your thighs. “Lisa…” you breathed, not even sure what you were asking for.

But she knew. With a wicked smile, she leaned down and captured your lips in another heated kiss, her hands sliding down your body to grip your thighs, spreading them wider. You gasped into her mouth as she rocked her hips against yours, the friction sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your veins.

Lisa kissed her way down your neck, her lips and tongue teasing your skin, making you arch your back and moan her name. Every touch, every kiss, every brush of her fingers against your sensitive skin felt like fire, and you were quickly losing yourself in the sensation.

When she reached your breasts, she took one nipple into her mouth, sucking gently as her hand massaged the other. You cried out, the pleasure so intense it made you dizzy. She switched to the other breast, giving it the same attention, her tongue flicking over your hardened nipple in a way that made you squirm beneath her.

But Lisa wasn’t done with you yet. She kissed her way down your stomach, her hands trailing after her, fingers ghosting over your skin in a way that left you trembling with anticipation. When she reached the apex of your thighs, she paused, looking up at you with a sultry smile.

“Are you ready?” she asked, her voice husky.

You could only nod, your breath coming in short gasps as you waited for her next move. Your entire body was humming with need, your core aching for her touch.

Lisa didn’t keep you waiting. She dipped her head between your thighs, her tongue darting out to lick a long, slow stripe up your slit. You cried out, your hips bucking off the bed at the sudden surge of pleasure. She held you down with a firm grip on your thighs, her tongue delving deeper, exploring every inch of you with a skill that left you breathless.

She alternated between licking and sucking, her tongue swirling around your clit before diving back down to tease your entrance. The sensations were almost too much to bear, your body trembling with the intensity of it all. Your hands fisted in the sheets, your head thrown back as you moaned her name, begging her for more.

“Please… Lisa… don’t stop…” you panted, your voice ragged with need.

Lisa hummed in response, the vibration sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. She increased the pressure, her tongue flicking over your clit in quick, precise strokes that had you teetering on the edge of release.

You were so close, your body coiled tight with anticipation, every nerve ending on fire. And then, just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, she slipped two fingers inside you, curling them in just the right way to hit that sweet spot deep inside.

The combined sensation of her tongue on your clit and her fingers inside you sent you spiraling over the edge. Your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, crashing over you with an intensity that left you gasping for breath. You cried out her name, your body shaking as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you.

Lisa didn’t stop, her fingers and tongue continuing to work you through your orgasm, drawing out every last bit of pleasure until you were a quivering, boneless mess beneath her. When you finally came down from the high, your body still trembling with aftershocks, she gently withdrew her fingers, her lips pressing soft, soothing kisses to your inner thighs.

You lay there for a moment, trying to catch your breath, your heart still pounding in your chest. Lisa crawled back up your body, her lips trailing kisses along your skin until she was hovering over you again.

She smiled down at you, her eyes warm and tender. “You okay?” she asked softly, brushing a strand of hair away from your face.

You nodded, still too breathless to speak. You reached up to cup her cheek, pulling her down for a slow, languid kiss. The intensity from earlier had faded, replaced by a gentle warmth that made you feel safe and cherished.

“Thank you,” you whispered against her lips, your voice hoarse.

Lisa smiled, her thumb tracing your bottom lip. “You don’t have to thank me. I enjoyed every second of that.”

You chuckled softly, the sound a little shaky. “Me too.”

She kissed you again, this time softer, more tender, as if she was savoring the moment. When she pulled back, she looked down at you with a mix of adoration and desire that made your heart flutter.

“I’m not done with you yet,” she murmured, her voice full of promise.

You shivered at the thought, your body already responding to her words. “What do you have in mind?” you asked, your voice breathy with anticipation.

Lisa’s smile turned wicked as she leaned in close, her lips brushing against your ear. “How about we see how many times I can make you scream my name tonight?”

Your breath hitched, a fresh wave of desire pooling in your core. “Challenge accepted.”

She grinned, kissing you deeply before trailing her lips down your neck, her hands already beginning their exploration of your body once more. The night was far from over, and with Lisa by your side, you had a feeling it was going to be the best birthday of your life.

— — — — —

You woke up the next morning to the soft light of dawn filtering through your curtains, your body pleasantly sore from the night before. For a moment, you lay there in a hazy, contented state, your mind still fuzzy with sleep. But as you slowly became more aware of your surroundings, the memories of the previous night came rushing back.

You rolled over, expecting to find Lisa beside you, but the bed was empty, the sheets cool to the touch where she should have been. A pang of disappointment shot through you, though it was quickly replaced by curiosity. Where had she gone?

Pushing yourself up on one elbow, you glanced around the room, your eyes landing on the door that was slightly ajar. A soft clattering sound from the direction of the kitchen caught your attention, and you couldn’t help but smile as you realized where she was.

You wrapped the sheets around yourself and padded out of the bedroom, your heart fluttering with a mix of excitement and nervousness. What did last night mean? What would she say? What would you say?

As you stepped into the kitchen, you were greeted by the sight of Lisa standing at the stove, wearing nothing but one of your oversized shirts, her hair tousled from sleep. The sight made your heart skip a beat, and you couldn’t suppress the smile that spread across your face.

She turned at the sound of your footsteps, her eyes lighting up when she saw you. “Good morning,” she said with a warm smile, her voice still a little husky from sleep.

“Good morning,” you replied, your voice soft as you took a few steps closer to her. The scene felt almost surreal—Lisa, the woman who had just rocked your world last night, standing in your kitchen as if she belonged there, cooking breakfast.

She turned back to the stove, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “I hope you don’t mind, but I helped myself to some eggs. Figured you could use a hearty breakfast after last night.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle, warmth blossoming in your chest at her easy familiarity. “I don’t mind at all,” you said, stepping closer until you were right behind her. “It smells amazing.”

Lisa glanced over her shoulder at you, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “You say that now, but wait until you taste my cooking. I’m not exactly a master chef.”

You grinned, wrapping your arms around her waist from behind, pulling her close. “I’m sure it’ll be perfect,” you murmured, pressing a kiss to the nape of her neck.

She hummed in response, leaning back into your embrace. For a moment, the two of you just stood there, wrapped in each other’s warmth, the soft sizzle of the eggs the only sound in the room. It was a peaceful moment, filled with a quiet intimacy that made your heart swell.

But as the minutes ticked by, a sense of unease began to creep into your mind. You remembered everything from the party—your friends surprising you, the drinks, the laughter, and of course, Lisa giving you that lap dance. But as you replayed the night in your head, there was a part of it that felt… hazy.

You frowned slightly, your brows knitting together as you tried to piece it together. “Lisa…” you started, your voice hesitant.

She must have sensed the change in your tone because she turned around in your arms, her expression softening as she looked at you. “What’s on your mind?” she asked gently, reaching up to brush a strand of hair away from your face.

You bit your lip, unsure of how to phrase your question. “I… I remember everything up until we were in the bedroom, but after that… things are a little fuzzy.”

Lisa’s eyes darkened slightly, a smirk playing on her lips. “Oh?” she said, her tone teasing. “You don’t remember the best part?”

You blushed, feeling a mix of embarrassment and frustration. “I remember some things, but it’s all a bit of a blur.”

She tilted her head, her smirk widening. “Well, I suppose I’ll just have to remind you, won’t I?”

Before you could respond, Lisa turned off the stove, abandoning the eggs as she took your hand and led you back to the bedroom. There was something in her demeanor—a confident, teasing playfulness—that sent a thrill of anticipation running through you.

Once you were back in the bedroom, Lisa gently pushed you onto the bed, straddling your hips as she leaned down to kiss you deeply. The kiss was slow, sensual, and full of promise, her lips moving against yours in a way that made your toes curl. When she finally pulled back, you were both breathing heavily, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Let me help you remember,” Lisa whispered, her voice husky as she trailed her lips down your neck, her hands sliding under the sheets to caress your bare skin.

You gasped, your body immediately responding to her touch, the sensation of her hands and mouth on you reigniting the fire that had burned so hotly the night before. Lisa took her time, kissing and touching every inch of you, as if she was mapping your body all over again.

Her lips trailed down your chest, lingering over your breasts as she took each nipple into her mouth, her tongue flicking over the sensitive peaks until you were writhing beneath her, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

“You were so responsive last night,” Lisa murmured against your skin, her voice a seductive purr that sent shivers down your spine. “You begged me to keep going, to make you come again and again.”

You moaned, your hips arching off the bed as her hand slid down your body, her fingers teasing your inner thighs. “Lisa… please…”

She smirked, her fingers brushing against your slick folds, making you gasp. “That’s exactly what you said last night,” she whispered, her breath hot against your ear. “And I was more than happy to oblige.”

With that, she slipped two fingers inside you, curling them just right to hit that sweet spot that had you seeing stars. You cried out, your body arching off the bed as pleasure surged through you, the sensation both familiar and overwhelming.

“Just like that,” Lisa murmured, her lips brushing against your collarbone as she moved her fingers inside you, her thumb circling your clit in slow, deliberate strokes. “You came so hard for me, and then you begged for more.”

You could barely form words, your mind too clouded with desire to do anything but moan and writhe beneath her. The way she was touching you, the way her voice wrapped around you like silk, made you feel like you were teetering on the edge of something intense and all-consuming.

“Lisa… oh god…” you gasped, your hands fisting in the sheets as your orgasm built, the pressure mounting with every thrust of her fingers, every flick of her thumb.

She leaned down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss just as your orgasm crashed over you, your body trembling with the force of it. You cried out against her mouth, your entire being consumed by the wave of pleasure that swept through you, leaving you breathless and boneless beneath her.

When you finally came down from your high, Lisa gently withdrew her fingers, her lips trailing soft kisses along your jawline. You were panting, your heart still racing, but there was a contentment that settled in your chest, a warmth that spread through your entire body.

Lisa rolled onto her side next to you, propping herself up on one elbow as she looked down at you with a satisfied smile. “Do you remember now?” she asked, her voice playful.

You nodded, still trying to catch your breath. “I do,” you said softly, your voice tinged with awe. “I can’t believe I forgot something like that.”

Lisa chuckled, her fingers brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “I’m glad I could help jog your memory.”

You smiled, reaching up to cup her cheek, pulling her down for a slow, lingering kiss. When you pulled back, you looked into her eyes, feeling a deep sense of gratitude and affection.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice filled with sincerity. “For everything. Last night was… incredible.”

Lisa’s expression softened, and she leaned down to press a tender kiss to your forehead. “It was my pleasure,” she murmured, her lips brushing against your skin.

You snuggled closer to her, feeling a sense of contentment that you hadn’t felt in a long time. Lisa wrapped her arms around you, holding you close as the two of you basked in the warmth of each other’s presence.

As you lay there in her embrace, you couldn’t help but wonder what the future held for the two of you. The night had started as a surprise, a wild birthday celebration that you’d never expected, but it had ended with something far more intimate, far more meaningful.

You didn’t know what would come next, but as you drifted off to sleep in Lisa’s arms, you knew one thing for sure: you’d never forget this birthday, and you’d never forget the woman who had made it unforgettable.

[signanothername]

HEYO, do you think your Regina GeorgeTM Nightmare would ever have moments of his past self just...idk how to word it rn, just like he slips back. He's there. Something that Nightmare wouldn't normally do, but just this once or twice?

Whether it's drawing the line at children. Killers can kill them. Nightmare would prefer to not....just, something about it is a little too similar for his liking. And if Killer asks, the answer is just 'I have standards' or something to try and cover it up?

Or, maybe a rare 'olive branch' between him and Dream? Perhaps he remembers a small detail and does something nice for once, even if it's a small thing, before going back to his bitchy self? Like, a tiny piece of candy Dream used to like. Or a moment of 'that's MY brother asshole', even if Nightmare still a piece of shit?

Or, not even a moments. What about small mannerisms he has from before, that he doesn't even realize he still has? Maybe it's posture. Maybe it's the way he tilts his head when listening or curious(as a child, it was much more innocent compared to now).

Just a thought I wanted your opinion on!

Hello!! Glad to see you in my inbox again! :D

That’s it Regina GeorgeTM Nightmare is what I’m calling him from now on chchhcchhc /hj

Ok thank you for asking that cause i wanted to ramble about how i view Nightmare for a long time and now the time has come, cause i usually talk about him in fragments, bits and pieces here and there, never fully diving into his personality as a whole

Thing is, corrupted or not, i like to believe he’s still Nightmare y’know? Beneath all that bitchiness, he’s still the same quiet loner little guy that was just never dealt a fair hand by life

I have talked before very quickly about how i think Nightmare has moments of kindness

And even talked a bit in depth about why i think Nightmare is extremely bitchy

And you better believe i love to think Nightmare has those little moments in which he has a kind thought that just seems out of character for him, but it’s truly not, it’s just that little guy inside is still there, it’s just harder for Nightmare to truly think clearly with all the corruption that consumes him

Not only that but i absolutely love to think a lot of his habits are still the same, maybe developed or slightly changed but still very much the same

and i even sketched a few sketches concerning these two points, i just never shared them

In the first sketch, Nightmare is thinking about bringing Killer to Ccino’s Cat cafe, bringing killer to the cafe has no benefit to Nightmare whatsoever, it only serves to make Killer happy (something that completely opposes Nightmare’s goal of spreading negativity) yet he still thought about it, it’s just one of those moments where his little guy self just shines through

In the second sketch, it shows a lil headcanon of mine that Nightmare never broke a habit (and even something of a coping mechanism /comfort) of finding a tree to sit by when he reads, it helps clear his head, and i like to fully believe Nightmare doesn’t truly realize he does this cause it reminds him of better simpler times when he was just a happy content child reading a book under his mom’s leaves

That aside, sometimes i love to include little details in my art that people usually don’t really notice most the time, one little detail is that i love to have Dream and Nightmare grip their clothes as a child would when they are distressed (especially if it’s specifically anxiety/fear)

That’s just plays into a little headcanon of mine that it’s a habit Dream and Nightmare had since childhood and neither of them broke it, nor they’re ever gonna truly break it, what I’m saying is Nightmare’s child-like behavior is very prominent when he’s distressed, and i love to think so cause Nightmare is first and foremost, a wounded fearful lonely child, someone who’s inner child never healed, so when things scare or distress him, his inner child just takes over and such habits make themselves known

To me Nightmare is still Nightmare, it’s just that the corruption has taken over and made his pain worse and by extension he wants to let that pain out by inflecting it on others, all while not truly realizing that he does it to let his own pain out, in fact, I wholeheartedly believe that if someone (say Killer for example) kept pressing him by questions as to why he does what he does, eventually Nightmare would hit a wall only to realize “huh… why am i doing this?” Cause Nightmare would never settle for a bitchy answer like “why not?” It’s beneath him

Not only that but i fully believe Nightmare can get those moments of weakness in which the past just eats away at him, something I sketched for too :’)

And when it comes to Dream, he definitely has those moments of hesitation that he himself doesn’t fully understand, he fully believes that he doesn’t care for Dream at all, even tho it’s not true

I even talked about Dream and Nightmare coexisting before

And even this animatic, in which Nightmare (while being unphased/ unresponsive to Dream’s affection at first) still allowed Dream to show him his affection and let Dream hug him, only to return it by a very subtle head tilt leaning towards Dream before returning to his bitchy self

And I even wanna bring attention to this lil comic (and the ramble I made in the reblog about it dhhxhx) cause I feel like it also explores Nightmare’s fears to an extent

Fears of feeling weak, cause Nightmare definitely developed the mindset that the strong devours the weak, i like to think Nightmare hates feeling weak cause who would protect him but himself?

That being said, he maybe a bitch, but he’s also a deeply traumatized individual with an inner child who’s in dire need to heal, my man needs therapy and love <33333

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 116

Part 1 Part 115

Steve’s counting the days until winter break. Something’s settled within him, now that things have been hashed out with Eddie, and he’s ditched his car and old house key. He wants to go home. But there’s a good week left of pretending to still care about schoolwork along with the rest of the seniors. 

High school, as always, is a powder keg Steve can’t wait to get out of – all it takes is a single lit match and the whole barrel’s going up in flames, taking all nearby bystanders down with it. Steve’s never been good at keeping his distance. 

Carol and Tommy used to be his crutches. They both know how to look out for the striking of the match, when to step back, and when to blow it out. They’d circle him like feral wolves protecting their fresh kill. 

Steve’s always been good at reading people’s moods, but never the room. And now that Carol’s on the fringes of the in-crowd, and Steve’s drop-kicked himself out entirely, all they’ve got left is Tommy, and he’s more likely to be holding the match.

Steve’s dressed down for gym for the first time in weeks, his doctor’s note apparently the only stay of execution he’d receive. He’s excited, is the thing. He’s not even particularly bothered by the looks the other guys are throwing him in the locker room, knows there are scars now that there weren’t the last time he was in here: most notably shiny pink burns speckled across his back.

It doesn’t matter. He wants to move.

Hargrove snorts. “I knew you were into some kinky shit, Harrington,” he drawls from across the locker room. “But this is sick, even for you.” 

Steve pulls his shirt down and slips his shoes on without untying them, ready to get out of there. It doesn’t stop Hargrove from calling after him.

“Is that what you let those freaks do when you were all tied up?”

Steve doesn’t mean to turn back, but he does, confusion taking over his higher brain functions. Hargrove’s smirking, a few of his cronies hanging on to his every word and laughing right along with him.

Hagan’s not laughing. His fists are bunched and he’s glaring at Steve, but Steve still knows him. Tommy has never been an angry guy. The anger’s always been a veneer, spread thin, to cover up something else. His hands are shaking right now, like he’s not sure whether to punch Steve or hug him. He’s sucking on his bottom lip like he wishes it was Steve’s.

Steve turns his back to him, and hears his laugh, a smack of skin. He doesn’t look back. 

There will probably always be a Steve that lives inside of him that misses Tommy Hagan. The same Steve that remembers being small in the backseat of his parent’s car and just wants the idea of them back. But, that’s the Steve of years ago from a simpler, shallower time. The Steve of now has people who love him enough to stay when things get hard.

Would Tommy ever have opened his home to Steve when he got kicked out? Would Tommy have ever walked through hell to get him back?

Soccer’s not a high-contact sport, but Hargrove sure does his best to make it one. 

Basketball skills don’t translate well to it, but there’s a certain level of athleticism that makes most hand-to-eye coordination tenible. None of which explains the way Hargrove’s foot keeps slipping when he tries to kick the ball and bashing into Steve’s shins. 

None of which explains the way his shoulder checks Steve’s with enough force to send him sprawling. Twice. 

And he keeps saying shit.

“I get why you’d let those two redheads fuck with you,” Hargrove calls, looking up and down Steve’s own body like he’s trying to picture something tawdry.  “Hell, Carol’s a tight piece of ass.”

He grins smamirly over at Hagan, either not noticing or simply not caring that Hagan’s face has dropped all its forced joviality. 

“But those kids? My sister?” he continues, still grinning like it’s funny. “What are you, some sort of pedophile?”

“I don’t know your sister, man,” Steve calls, disgust twisting in his stomach, knotting his intestines up in creative bows. 

Steve kick, kick, passes the ball around Hargrove’s weak defense, hoping Hargrove will follow the ball. He doesn’t. 

“Even worse, you let Munson in on that action?” he taunts, staring Steve down. 

Steve looks past him, watching his temporary teammate score an easy goal against a goalie who’s clearly never played a sport in his life. He doesn’t know what Hargrove’s on about, but engaging with vipers never leads anywhere good. 

It doesn’t stop him from spewing more poison. “I always knew you were a freak.” He says it like he’d rather fling a different word that starts with the letter F. 

The teacher blows his whistle at them, shouting complaints about lazing about and lollygagging, so they’re all three forced to run to the other side of the field and catch up with the rest of the game. That doesn’t stop Hargrove from running his mouth. 

“Hell, I heard all sorts of rumors about the three of you, back when you were the king. Carol, Tommy, and Steve, the inseparable trio.” Even through all the monologuing, he doesn’t even have the decency to be out of breath. 

Steve’s lived a far more sedentary life this past year, and he’s panting now, forehead tacky with sweat. But, there’s a certain level of athleticism it takes years to lose, so he still keeps up. 

“I know Carol was Tommy’s girl,” Hargrove continues, lunging around Steve to stop the ball, kicking it from foot to foot with coordinated ease. “But I heard you were taking it just as much as she was.” 

Hargrove feints left, right, scores a goal, running backward to get back on defense without turning his grinning face away from Steve’s. 

“Who would've thought King Steve was a fa–”

Tommy Hagan’s fist interrupts Hargrove’s little speech. It connects with a meaty thwack! with Hargrove’s jaw, hard enough to make his teeth clack together. 

So: powder keg, lit match, ka-boom!

“What the fuck were you just going to call me?” Hagan snarls. 

He swings again until Hargrove rolls them over and starts swinging back. Steve stares, stunned as the teacher blows his whistle and starts running. 

He can almost hear Eddie’s soapbox rant. Something about testosterone, and projection, and the homoeroticism of high school sportsball. 

Both boys are bloody and seething by the time they’re pulled apart and escorted to the principal’s office. 

He intercepts Carol at Barbara’s car after school to tell her what happened, unsurprised when she just laughs. 

“Serves him right,” she says grinning and peering into the parking lot like she might catch sight of his bloodied face. 

“Should we do something about the rumors?” he asks, whispering the last word like if someone hears it, they’ll immediately spew homophobic slurs in both of their directions.

Carol just waves her hand dismissively. “Nah, that’ll just fan the flames.” She wraps her hand around his waist and squeezes, fingers tucked proprietarily beneath his t-shirt. “Go home and this’ll all blow over by next week.”

He tells Eddie what happened on the way home.

Eddie cackles. “Of course it would happen in gym,” he says, grinning as he runs a vacant stop sign without even a rolling stop. “All that testosterone running through their bodies until they’ve just got to touch each other.”

Steve settles in to listen to his rant, delighted when he guessed most of the beats Eddie would hit just right. 

He should be surprised when Hargrove and Hagan are sitting next to each other at lunch the next day, laughing and shit-talking as if the whole school isn’t still atwitter about their all-out brawl the day before. 

He should be, but he’s not. Tommy and Carol have always been good at playing the game, and it looks like Tommy’s determined to stay on the board. 

Steve and Carol trade a commiserating lunch, and go back to their respective conversations. Tommy’s been given chance after chance to make a different choice, but he never does. Steve’s not about to light his own match for an old friend who’d never burn right along with him.

Steve counts down the days until he can go home, and stay there with Eddie, for weeks on end. Four, three, two, one. 

Home.

Part 117

[irisposts]

you & me [1]

college au!! it’s the infamous enemies to lovers trope. more like the reader hates ellie lol and ellie’s along for the ride. this chapter is pretty lighthearted :) lemme know what you think!

edited: yes/no

a/n: there is like the smallest easter egg to the game and show!! hint: it’s about joel miller

you weren’t a fan of room 926. every couple nights, they mocked you out of sleep. playing their stupid guitar and band music. it was almost as if they believed they were the only occupants of the dorms.

you now scratch at a plastic bag around your hair, arms crossed as you wait before their door. you curse to yourself, quickly realizing how utterly- ridiculous you must look with a shaggy bathrobe and hair pinned underneath a crinkly target bag. but it’s 1am and you give yourself grace. you tap your foot impatiently, knocking at the door again.

“hey!”

annoyed, you start pounding at it to make a statement. you’re so into it that you don’t notice the door down the hall open. a guy around your age pokes his head through. “hey!” he snaps his fingers to grab your attention.

you momentarily stop, “…hi?”

you pull your robe tighter, hoping the bag doesn’t crinkles as you move.

“could you do me the biggest favor?” he starts off sweet. “…but could you please shut the fuck up? people are trying to get some sleep here.”

your jaw hangs low in shock. “Wha—I didn’t even—”

even more so when you don’t get the chance to defend yourself as he slams the door shut just as quickly as he had opened it. you turn back to 926, this time your fist is going through this door. you swear it. just as you muster the strength to punch through, the door swings open.

you hand quickly falls down to your side. your cheeks grow warm at the woman leant against the door frame by one arm.

you swallow down the lump in your throat. “ellie.”

you’d be a liar to say you didn’t like ellie’s voice. it’s rasp—yet soft. something unique to only ellie. “y/n.”

lord she sounds heavenly, you wander if your knees could turn to jello in an instant. ellie makes that seems possible.

your heart pounds against your chest, she wears the infamous at gray hoodie. you admire the way her hair is pulled back into a low bun, and the strand of hair that swings besides her cheek.

your eyes wander off to the side. you notice a familiar face in the room. “dina?”

she’s sat on the opposite bed of the room. she looks up at the call of her name. she gives a curt wave, and offers a gentle smile. you go to save back but ellie has stepped forward, closing the door behind her. for a fleeting moment you can’t help but feel the faint pain of jealousy stab at your heart. you take a step back as well, feeling ellie’s presence to be too much for you.

she now leans onto her side along the door frame, scratching nervously at the nape of her neck.

you fight the urge to look into her eyes. but it proves difficult—ellie towers over you. it’s only by a few more inches, but it’s enough to make you feel inferior at times. and you despised it, disposed her. and to add fuel to fire, you hate to admit the truth—but elliie is hot. for a means of simpler terms. . she has both girls and guys alike fawning over her on campus, despite the fact she only playing for one team.

you suck on your teeth ready to get this over with. “can you keep it down, please.” you place a hand on your hip.

ellie ignores your request and points to your head. “what’s with the bag?”

“what bag?”

ellie chews on her bottom lip, her finger makes a circular motion around her head. she’s so sarcastic it makes you ill.

“protein treatment i saw online. you know what—” you shake your head not wanting to start the usual banter between you two. “—it’s late, okay?” you motion to the space between you too. “and if you forgot, we have class tomorrow…”

ellie runs her hand down her face, sighing. “i’m aware.”

she looks back to you, and then it’s at that moment you realize the redness in her eyes and the smell off her clothes, you sniff. scowling in distaste “are you high?”

ellie blinks. “…no…?”

you squint your eyes and exhale. “look, i don’t care, but can you and your girlfriend please keep it down please?”

you notice a flash across ellie’s eyes. “yeah, yeah sorry. won’t happen again.”

“‘mhm.” you turn back towards your room. not believing a word, but also not wanting to drag this on for much longer.

ellie fiddles with her two fingers. not particularly of wanting this fleeting interaction to end. “hey, 925?”

you roll eyes, pivoting your hips to briefly look back. “yeah?”

ellie crosses her arms, growing serious for a moment. “i never got a chance to thank you about the other day….”

you blink. “don’t mention it.”

you turn to push down on your door knob. “night ,neighbor.” you swing the door open and slam it shut behind you.

leaving ellie alone to stare at the numbers 925 to mock her back…