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#dial accessories
dutybcrne · 7 months
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When getting married, Kae's ideal wedding fit is something that heavily blurs his gender presentation. Is it a suit? A dress??? Is he the bride?? Groom??? Who knows? Definitely not anybody getting a good look at him-
#hc; kaeya#☆ ┆ ( .ooc. );#//Ambiguousness dialed up to the MAX#//The most important part is that he looks GOOD#//And leaves his partner mouth agape; that too ksjbgd#//If he can leave them breath and speechless; he'll be more than happy with his outfit choice#//Deffo WILL playfully tease them during the vows for sure#//Suuuubtly adjust the collar/opening at his chest to draw attention to it; or otherwise shimmying his shoulders ever so slightly to do so#//Cock his head and give them a coy little sultry look as they speak; batting his eyes as he purses his lips juuust a lil bit#//ESP if he Knows it's gonna make them wanna get back at him later#//Definitely would want to go All Out on the decadence; for accessories; materials; makeup#//He doesn't usually want to splurge so much on himself; even with his presentation on the daily#//But for his wedding; he would LOVE to go all out#//It's only one of the BIGGEST MOMENTS OF HIS LIFE; after all#//Esp considering how much it would take to actually GET him there and give in to actually marrying his partner; his anxieties considered#//It's IMPORTANT#//It's a different story if the wedding happens to be impromptu lmao#//Like the Potc scene with Will; Elizabeth; and Barbossa jbdgkg#//My favorite thing ever lol#//Propose to and marry him mid-battle; and he will be ECSTATIC#//Blood-spattered; bruised; disheveled and all; he wouldn't care; he'd be SO happy#//Might have to anticipate consummating the marriage IMMEDIATELY after the fight's been won tho kjdnbkgft#//He'd be so lax bc there aren't family and friends to present to; it's just him and his partner#//Which honestly may mean less stress for him in the long run; lbr#//Prolly the most ideal sort of wedding for him#//Where he doesn't have to think; lets himself get carried away by the emotions and his partner's joy/excitement#//Just FUN and THEM#//and a little chaos; that too lol
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Finally back! The DA37 is back as the DK37 with it's in-house movement A26-3. The timepiece is made of ice-hardened stainless steel and has a white dial with excellent readability. The entire surface is coated with special Luminova C1 white luminescent paint. The hour and minute hands and the triangle at 12 o'clock are painted black.
Available to order online now: https://www.damasko-watches.com/en/detail/index/sArticle/247
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sativaonsaturn · 2 months
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how i spot the signs
based on risings and sun
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♈︎ aries:
scars on the face/ head
freckles
very direct way of speaking; yk what they’re saying the first time they say it. don’t usually have to repeat themselves
sometimes redheaded or dyed red
natural leaders, even if they’re not the leader they tend to naturally command respect
also naturally loud speakers; not obnoxious but you can definitely hear them
usually very friendly if not approachable too
♉︎ taurus:
the women are ALWAYS pretty!! very conventionally attractive faces (venus)
what you see is what you get
usually know exactly what hairstyles/ makeup complement them
voices tend to be flat/ monotone
tend to lean towards earth tones and often even have an olive/ green undertone
♊︎ gemini:
very talkative 😭
men tend to be quite lanky but not very tall
love eccentric clothes/ accessories (ex: one earring, rainbow dyed hair, blonde eyebrows)
everyone knows them and they know everyone, tend to be quite approachable
they get bored quite easily. if you’re dating one, (not even considering venus) they’re likely to be really into you initially and seemingly dial it back out of nowhere or ghost completely 😭
♋︎ cancer:
big titties 😭 (esp rising)
tend to have round faces (moon)
tend to be a bit timid in new environments, talkative when they’re comfortable; cautious people
typically very warm people (sometimes literally), gives mom vibes fr
super funny naturally, true comedians even if they’re just saying what’s on their mind
i’ve noticed cancer artists make really raunchy songs (ex: Work It by Missy Elliot, Big Poppa by Biggie, Candy Shop by 50 Cent)
♌︎ leo:
noticeable hair (ex: big hair, long + healthy hair, unique curl pattern)
everyone knows them, may not know everyone
also natural leaders but tend to be a bit friendlier than aries (and typically more concerned w/ who likes them than aries)
love to laugh! always cracking jokes or finding a way to lighten the mood
command attention (good, bad, or both) immediately and w/out trying
♍︎ virgo:
usually look really focused or deep in thought
can also look far away when you first meet them especially if they’re virgo rising
can be quiet when you first meet them too; usually cause they’re reading the room before they speak
almond/ small eyes
usually have to wear glasses/ contacts
tend to wear earth tones
♎︎ libra:
men look like professors or authors, especially the octobers
september libras seem to loveeee pink
usually quite talkative but also typically read the room well, may even mirror it
tactful/ organized people, again especially octobers
typically love pretty, clean cut things. so clothes are ironed, delicate perfume, earrings always in, hair always done.
libra risings always look like libras 😭 very symmetrical faces, just look like they know a lot
♏︎ scorpio:
usually the hardest to guess
often in the know abt everyone w/out even asking
does someone seem like they’re openly themselves, knows everyone, big personality.. but you also get the feeling you don’t know them at all? probably a scorpio
tend to be the life of the party, definitely know how to have a good time
♐︎ sagittarius:
can be tall or short but the men almost always have very athletic builds
they know everyone and everyone knows of them
talking shit 24/7
tend to be confrontational and blunt people - will absolutely tell somebody like it is
likely a lot of rumors about them. like you may hear about them before you even meet them
very pronounced calves and/or hips
very noticeable/ distinct laugh and voice
tend to have big, bright smiles (ex: Miley Cyrus, Billie Eilish, Colman Domingo)
♑︎ capricorn:
very dry humor
always moving, if they’re not moving they mentally occupied
usually you hear they’ve been independent from an early age
adapt very well, can usually be whatever they need to be for the moment
the women are typically striking or have memorable features (ex: Dolly Parton, Zooey Deschanel, Ice Spice)
the men look strong minded and strong willed (ex: Denzel Washington, LL Cool J, Zayn Malik)
♒︎ aquarius:
often look very lost or in a daze
jokeskers
tend to say things to get a rise out of people but that’s not to say what they’re saying isn’t true; sometimes it’s the way they say it
can sometimes be the smartest in the room; they notice everything and forget nothing + very quick thinkers
women tend to be thick (ex: Megan Thee Stallion, Kenya Moore, Oprah, Uzo Aduba)
♓︎ pisces:
tend to be quite spiritual/ pious people but if not, equally as passionate abt not believing in like a higher power
women usually look ethereal either in dress or face (ex: Lupita Nyong’o, Rihanna, Dakota Fanning, Drew Barrymore)
can act a bit like God’s gift to the earth, especially the men
tend to be frugal and in turn usually very well off or at least comfortable
sativaonsaturn 🪐🍃
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hotchscoffeecup · 6 months
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drunk dial
pairing: platonic aaron hotchner/reader
rating: t
word count: 8.1k
tags: implied sexual assault, referenced sexual assault
summary: when you drunk dial your boss in need of rescuing from a night club, aaron hotchner doesn’t hesitate to respond. the only problem? you thought you’d called emily. hotch insists on you letting him take care of you for the night as you’re in no state to be on your own. as the night progresses, you find that you’re finally able to disclose a trauma you’d kept buried for years.
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“Hotchner,” he answers groggily.
A harsh sob echoes through the receiver and he sits up, bringing the phone down to view the caller ID. The dark slash of his brow furrows as he views your name and photo.
There’s concern in his voice as he says your name, but you don’t seem to hear it.
You heave another sob through the phone. “My friend left with some guy. And now this one, he won’t—” Your voice suddenly sounds far away the music pounding in the background overtakes your words. He’s missing information as your voice becomes clear once more. “He wants more than I’m willing to give Emily and I just want to go home.” Your words are slurred. “I just,” another choked sob, “I need he—” The line disconnects.
“Hello?” Hotch questions and tries your name again. He redials your number and curses as it goes to voicemail. Throwing back the sheets, he climbs out of bed and dials Prentiss’ number as he pulls a hoodie over his t-shirt.
She laughs as she answers, “Hotch, it’s past midnight. Shouldn’t you be asleep?”
He cuts her off and curtly explains the call he’d just received. “Where is she?”
“Oh, um, The 930 Club. She’s—”
“Thanks, Prentiss.” He hangs up and shoves his phone in his pocket. He grabs his raincoat and keys and swiftly exits his apartment.
The club isn’t far from his complex, but with Saturday night traffic in the heart of DC combined with the summer storm raging on, it seems to take ages. He lays on the horn as someone cuts him off and curses as he slams on his brakes. Briefly, he considers throwing the red and blue lights on, but thinks better of it. He’s not far now and after making it through the next red light, the club comes into view. Disregarding the no parking signs out front, Hotch pulls up alongside the curb and throws the SUV into park.
Despite the rain, a line stretches out the door. Couples and groups of friends clad in leather, satin, high heels, and sleek accessories huddle under wide umbrellas to protect themselves from the storm. Hotch approaches the door and a bouncer stretches his arm across the way.
“There’s a line, old man.” The bouncer inclines his head toward the line of anxiously waiting club goers. “Get to the back before I put you there myself.”
Hotch is unfazed by the bouncer and the sense of power his job provides him. Standing toe to toe with the man, he stares him down, his eyes hard. He reaches into his pants pocket and retrieves his badge. With two fingers, he flips it open and pushes into the bouncer’s face. “Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner,” he states flatly. “I’ve got an agent in trouble in there, so get the hell out of my way before I have you in handcuffs.” He’s bluffing, obviously, the bouncer has done nothing wrong. He doesn’t know that though, given how wide his eyes open in fear. He says nothing and steps aside, granting him entry.
“Thank you.” For good measure, Hotch drives his shoulder into the bouncer as he shoves his way into the noisy nightclub. His eyes dart around, scanning the scene. There are two long bars on opposite walls, a DJ against the short wall where dozens of people bump and grind against one another on the dance floor, and two levels of tall tables and booths for people to crowd around or sneak into to get away from the music.
On the phone, you’d sounded distressed. Your words were slurred and he could only hope and pray that you’d not been drugged by whatever “he” was with you at the time of the call. God, he could only hope that you were even still here. If he knew creeps as well as his job had accustomed him to, if a man was trying to procure a woman under the influence, he’d either leave immediately and attack her in a secondary location or he’d take her somewhere more private within the environment.
Pushing through the crowd, he shouldered past couples who shot dagger sharp glances at him and took the stairs two at a time up to the second floor. The music still pounded over the speakers up here, but this was clearly where people went to escape the bustle of the crowded dance floor and get away to drink or order food or conversate more
privately. He calls your name and begins scanning tables. Patrons dining or trying to steal a romantic moment glare at him. Some curse and tell him to fuck off. He pays them no mind. As he winds around tables, he begins losing hope despite there being much more of the club to explore. He has half a mind to shut the whole place down and call in the team, but that would be a gross overreaction. There is no evidence that you’re actually in danger or missing aside from a drunk misdial. Still though, his heart pounds erratically as he calls your name over the music.
He reaches the end of the second floor and at first doesn’t see that there are people in the booth they’re that far tucked into it. The man’s hulking frame blocks the girl from view and he knows it’s you.
“Hey!” he barks over the baseline.
“We don’t need anything,” the man says without looking back.
Fury floods his veins. Without a second thought, Hotch reaches for the man and grabs him by the back of the neck. He reels back, pulling the man to his feet. Catching his balance, the man pulls his fist back. As he aims to deliver a punch, Hotch ducks and sends his fist into the man’s gut. As the air vacates his lungs and he doubles over, Hotch fists his hands into his shirt and slams him back into the table. With the man immobilized, he looks up at you. A strap on your dress falls over one shoulder and your hair hangs limply, having fallen free of whatever style it had been in. You look at him from half hooded eyes, blinking slowly. The scene is spinning and your temples are throbbing.
“Are you okay?” Hotch asks. His knuckles blaze white as the man struggles beneath his grip.
“Stop moving!” he barks.
“Can somebody help me?” the man calls.
Someone is saying your name, asking if you’re ok. The music is loud and your ears feel like they’re plugged with cotton. Things seem to move quickly and slowly all at once. Where are you? You’ve not left the club yet, but where did Mariah go? There’s your name again. God, you’re really out of it. Mariah left, you remember. She left with Andrew’s friend and Andrew, God, he wouldn’t leave you alone. When was Emily going to get here? There’s your name again. You blink hard and try to get your bearings. Though things are hazy and tilted through your alcohol laden senses, a picture starts to form in front of you. Aaron Hotchner, your boss, has Andrew pinned against the table in front of you.
“Sir?” you question, though the word feels far away and unfamiliar on your tongue.
Hotch raises his eyes from Andrew, concern reflecting back at you in them. Your eyes widen as you take in Andrew’s form beneath him. You glance down at yourself and see your dress straps pulled down, exposing the lace of your bra. What the fuck had he been trying to do before Hotch got here?
Two bouncers approach as a crowd begins to gather, people are always hungry for drama after all.
“Is there a problem here?” the first bouncer asks. He’s tall, built, and wears sunglasses despite it being dark inside. His ginger beard is bushy and his brow is pierced. He looks pissed as all hell that he has to be up here breaking up a fight. Hotch recognizes the other bouncer from the door. When they make eye contact, his eyes widen.
“Yo, Liam, that’s that FBI agent I was telling you about.”
Liam arches a brow, but his expression softens. “What’s going on, officer? Or should I call you Agent?”
Hotch ignores him and pulls Andrew to his feet, pushing him toward the bouncers. “Get this guy out of here,” he orders. He looks toward you again, his eyes searching for signs of further harm. He turns his attention back to Andrew.
“Did you slip her something?”
Andrew’s face screws. “What? No!”
Hotch steps forward, his face inches from his, and repeats the question louder, “Did you give her something?”
Andrew flinches. “No! I don’t do that shit, man. She took a bunch of shots with her friend. Guys were buying them drinks all night. I just—”
“You just what?” Hotch questions, his voice low and dangerous. “Wait for a woman that can hardly stand, take her upstairs, hide away, and see just how far you can take it?”
“Hey, she was into it!”
Hotch grabs him by the jaw. “Look at her!” he says. “She can barely keep her eyes open! That’s not consent, idiot!”
Andrew swallows and he looks like he might wet himself.
“Hotch,” you say and try your best to sit up, the world spinning as you do so.
Hotch releases him, but first leans in close to his ear. “If you ever, and I mean ever try this again, with anyone. I will have you arrested and will personally make sure you never see the light of day ever again. I was a federal prosecutor, so I know how to make charges stick. Do I make myself clear?”
Andrew nods vigorously and a tear slips from his eyes. “Not so confident now, huh?” Hotch whispers, disdain dripping from his lips. “Get him out of here.”
He watches as the bouncers lead Andrew down the steps. Hotch immediately turns his attention on you. He slides into the booth beside you. “Did he hurt you?” he asks.
Your brow furrows as you try to make sense of what’s happening. The music is so loud. Hotch looks around and then back at you. “Let’s get you out of here, come on.” He stretches his hand out to you and you take it, letting him pull you out of the booth. When you find your feet, you stumble and he catches you, his arm bracing around your lower back.
“It’s raining,” Hotch says as he shrugs out of his jacket. “Take this.” He drapes it over your shoulders, his little finger curling under the strap of your dress and pulling it back into place as he does so. The smell of cedar and teakwood reaches your nose, a severe contrast to the club’s overarching scent of vodka, sweat, and the amalgamation of various perfumes and colognes sprayed in earnest.
The second you exit the club your head feels a fraction clearer. The air is muggy, the humidity amping up with the cold rain coming down after a week of intensely high temperatures.
Aaron reaches into his pocket and fishes out his car keys. He clicks the unlock button and the car beeps in response. He opens the door and helps you inside, his eyes lingering on you for a moment as you clumsily buckle your seatbelt to make sure you can get it on alright. Once secure, he gently shuts the door and jogs around to the driver’s side.
He slides into the driver’s seat and twists the key in the ignition. He places his hands on the wheel, but before shifting the car into gear, he looks at you, intensely. When he says your name, it’s gentle. It’s not the tone he uses in the office when he’s calling the team for a briefing or to review something you’d written in a report. There’s a warmth in his voice, and there’s real concern there too. “You don’t have to tell me,” he starts. “Just know that you can.”
You nod, squeezing your eyes shut as the world tilts on its axis. Your stomach roils and for a moment you’re afraid you might be sick. You take a deep breath and manage to hold it down. Hotch tilts his head, regarding you. “Is there anyone at home that can take care of you?”
“No,” you answer and this time you don’t shake your head to avoid aggravating the nausea. “My roommate is out of town visiting her family,” you speak slowly but your words still come out slurred.
Hotch nods and shifts the car into gear. “You can stay with me then, tonight.”
“No, sir I can’t let you do that. You’ve got Jack and—”
A smile cracks his stern visage as he pulls out into traffic. If you had your wits about you, you would’ve taken a mental snapshot as you don’t think you’ve ever seen such a genuine expression of mirth cross his face. “Jack is at his aunt’s. I wouldn’t have exactly been able to come out like this if he wasn’t. Beth has an event for work this weekend, which is why I’ve stayed back in DC. It’s no trouble at all.”
You sink back into the seat, a part of you unable to believe that this is happening while the other part of you is still trying to fully process what all had transpired in the last fifteen minutes.
“Hotch, how did you know—”
His eyes are on the road as he speaks. “You thought you’d called Emily. You called me.”
“Oh my God,” you groan, drawing out the last letter. A scarlett heat creeps into your cheeks and you cover your face with your hands. “So you heard—Jesus Christ. Oh my God.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Hotch says, his words genuine. “I’m glad I can help.”
The rest of the ride passes in silence. It’s not long by any stretch of the imagination, but the constant stop and go traffic of late night DC has your stomach doing somersaults. You squeeze your eyes shut and rest your head against the cool glass of the window hoping it’ll quell the churning in your belly.
A quiet groan escapes your lips as Hotch pulls into his designated parking spot at The Langham. It stopped raining. As soon as he shifts the car into park, your stomach feels as though it’s just been bounced around like. ping pong ball. “Oh god,” you moan and fumble with the door handle. Somehow you manage to undo the lock and fling open the door. As soon as your feet hit the pavement, you rush over to the nearest bush, the vomit you’d staved off finally forcing its way up and out of your body. It’s vile, the way the alcohol and stomach acid burns your throat.
Footsteps rapidly approach and there’s a hand at your neck, gathering your hair. “Alright, ok,” Hotch says soothingly, his other hand rubbing up and down your back. “Get it all out, oh yeah, yep. There you go.”
When your body stops purging itself, you gulp down a fresh breath of air before spitting the acrid taste of bile from your lips. You stay like that, hands on your knees, and take a few deep breaths. “Do you have your gun?”
Hotch releases your hair as you stand, but keeps a steadying hand on your arm. His expression is puzzled, his brow arched. “No, why?”
You roll your eyes and turn toward the sidewalk leading toward the front entrance to his building. “To kill me now so I don’t have to live with the embarrassment of knowing my boss just saw that happen.”
Something between a laugh and scoff escapes Hotch’s lips as he catches up to you in two long strides. Him and his long ass legs, you drunkenly muse.
The lights hurt your eyes and your temples continue to throb as you let Hotch navigate your way through his complex. The walk feels excessively long and you wonder if all apartment complexes are this maze-like. As he fishes his keys out of his pocket and unlocks the door to his apartment you realize you’re actually at Aaron Hotchner’s apartment. You’ve never been to his apartment. You’ve been to Emily’s, Penelope’s, and Spencer’s apartments; Rossi and JJ’s houses, but Hotch? Definitely not. Suddenly you feel like you are about to encroach upon the shadowy place Mufasa warns Simba about in The Lion King.
You blink and that clears the weird image forming of Hotch as a cartoonish fatherly lion from your mind. You stumble through the threshold as he pushes the door open and curse as he catches you again. “These fucking heels,” you grumble. As you reach down to work out the straps your stomach flips and you groan.
Hotch’s eyes flare slightly. “Why don’t you stay up there?” he cautions. “Let me help you.”
“That sounds like a good idea,” you respond, voice tight as your stomach threatens revolution once more.
He bends down on one knee and begins to undo the straps from around your ankles. He holds the back of your calf as he pulls the heel off and places it against the wall. You have to catch yourself on his shoulder to keep from falling but as soon as your foot falls flat on the floor, a languid moan leaves your lips.
“Good God, that feels so much better.”
He helps you slide out of the other high heeled shoe and stands. Without the heels on, he has a decent amount of height on you. You have to look up to meet his eyes, those eyes still shining with concern.
“Let me take the coat,” he says, lifting his hands toward you. You turn and shrug out of it, your limbs feeling awkward and heavy as you do so. He hangs it on a hook on the back of the door and gestures down the length of the hallway.
“It’s just the one bedroom,” he explains as he leads the way toward the main room. “You can sleep in my room. I’ll take the couch.”
“No!” you blurt. “No, no, no you don’t have to do any of that oh my God.”
Hotch chuckles in response. “I think you’ll thank me in the morning if you do.” Wordlessly, you follow as he leads the way to the aforementioned bedroom. He flicks the light switch on and the lamp on his bedside table illuminates the room. It’s simply decorated with store bought abstract paintings and dark blue linens on the queen sized bed. A framed photo of Jack sits on the nightstand, angled toward the bed. The idea of Hotch lying there looking at the image of his son tugs your heartstrings. You move past Hotch and plop down on the bedspread before reaching for the photo. You smile as you look at Jack’s crooked smile.
“He’s so precious,” you muse and poke Jack’s nose through the flat plane of glass. You look up at Hotch from where he stands in the doorway. “He’s lucky to have a dad like you, sir.”
Hotch smiles softly and crosses the distance to sit beside you, the mattress sinking beneath your combined weight. “Thank you,” he says. “I’ll be honest, it's hard to feel like a good dad some days with our job.”
You bump him with your shoulder, or at least that’s your intention.You more or less use your entire arm to nudge him just barely. “You give him all the time you’re able, we all see that. If we do, Jack definitely does.”
You pass him the picture frame and smile. Hotch smiles in turn, his lips together. “Thank you,” he says as he places it back on the nightstand. “I hope he grows into a good man.”
“With you as his father, there’s no doubt. There ought to be more dads like you out there to teach their sons how to be men.” Your smile falters and your voice grows small. “Maybe then they wouldn’t try to see just how far they can push the envelope.”
Tears spring to your eyes and you use the back of your hand to clumsily wipe them away. Turn off the waterworks, you chide yourself. Your temples already throb from how much the alcohol, first round of tears, and vomiting dehydrated you, no need to compound it now with more tears.
Hotch says your name quietly. “You can talk to me, you know.” He pats your hand that rests atop the bedsheets. “I’m not your boss right now, I’m your friend.”
Your lip quivers as you stare blankly at the wall ahead. “If I talk about it, that means I let it happen. I’m a fucking FBI agent, Hotch. I should know better than to drink that much. I should—”
Hotch’s brow pinches. “Woah, woah, woah,” he starts, “where is this coming from? You know better than anyone that how much you drink doesn’t matter, that doesn’t entitle anyone else to you or your body. And fuck if you’re an agent, you’re allowed to go and enjoy drinks and a night out without worrying if some asshole is going to try and take advantage of you. I think I scared him within an inch of his life, too. You don’t have to worry about him anymore.”
But it’s not about Andrew. It’s not about tonight anymore. Tears slip over your lash line.They’re hot and fat and you hate how they have little minds of their own, dropping freely down your cheeks. You know what he says is true. Hell, you preach it to everyone, especially when you teach self defense at the local university. What you wear is never an excuse for someone to touch you. How you dance isn’t an excuse for someone to grope you. How much you drink isn’t an excuse for someone to lay claim to your flesh. The only thing that means yes is explicit, enthusiastic consent. You know this. You teach this.
But right now, it’s so hard to believe because that’s what you had to fight so hard to teach yourself when you first had to learn what happened wasn’t your fault.
You drop your head into your hands and stifle a sob. “God, it was nearly ten fucking years ago.”
“What was ten years ago?” Hotch asks, his voice soft and kind.
Oh God. You’d said that out loud.
You scrub your hands over your face and curse as you smear mascara into your eye. “Fuck!” you exclaim as your hand flies to your eye instinctively.
“I’ve got something I think can help,” Hotch says as he rises from the bed and darts out of the room. From your point of view, you can’t see anything but you hear bottles rummaging around from where you imagine is the bathroom out in the hall. When he returns he carries a small green package in his hand. He crouches in front of you and peels back the plastic film on the container. With two fingers he extracts a wipe and folds it in half. As he reaches for your face he hesitates, wipe paused in mid air above your cheek. “Is this alright?” he asks.
Sniffling, you nod. With one hand, Hotch gingerly wraps his fingers around your wrist. As he pulls it away, he uses his other hand to place the cool moist towelette against your eye. He holds it there for a moment before he begins to wipe and blot at the black swirls of mascara that had dried in tear stained patterns around your eyes and cheeks and whatever vestiges of eyeshadow remained. Once that wipe is fully soiled, he retrieves a fresh one; repeating the gesture on the other eye before moving on and clearing away what remained of your face and lip makeup. You don’t speak while he does this, and you don’t have to. You needed it. You needed that. You needed someone. You needed him. A friend. Someone that would ask no questions and just show up for you when you needed them most. No questions asked. And when he did ask questions, when Hotch did, there was no expectation to answer. But right now, in this strange moment, in Aaron Hotchner’s apartment, in his bed no less, you felt like you could finally tell someone.
“I was a teenager,” you say as he takes one final swipe at your cheek.
His hand freezes along your jawline and his eyes lock on yours. “You don’t have to do this,” he says gently, lowering his hand.
“If I don’t say it now on what courage the alcohol left in my system is giving me, I’m afraid I never will.”
Hotch sits back on his heels. “Alright.”
“I was dating an older guy at the time. I was a freshman in college. He was a senior; vice president of his fraternity. He came from a wealthy family, too. I was naive and so excited to be dating someone like that, someone with status. I grew up comfortably, but not that well off. He took me to nice dinners and bought me expensive gifts. We had a physical relationship, and it started out fine enough.” You pause and take a deep breath. “But we started fighting. He wouldn’t,” you pause. “I couldn’t get him to talk to me or communicate in any way that led to resolution when we did. He’d just keep apologizing and told me that he’d do better next time. He’d start kissing me to interrupt and then his hands would be in my pants and I just,” you stop and shake your head. “I thought if I could just deal with what he did physically, that things would be fine again if I just pretended I liked what was happening and got it over with. I thought that we’d go back to the fun, happy go lucky couple everyone knew us as. Until it happened again, and again, and again. When he graduated I finally felt safe enough to break things off once there was distance between us. I knew something had felt off about those experiences. It never occurred to me that that was assault.”
“You suffered through numerous unwanted physical advances because he emotionally manipulated you through stonewalling.” Hotch says quietly. It’s not an explanation, but validation of your experience.
A choked laugh escapes your lips. “I know that now. At the time, I thought assault was like what you see on TV. That it’s some stranger in an alley that blitz attacks you. I never thought it could be someone you knew, let alone someone you were in what you believed was a loving and committed relationship.” You shake your head again, a wry smile playing on your lips. “Imagine my surprise when I learned that the perpetrators were almost alway statistically someone the victim knows.”
A warm hand slips into yours. You look up and Hotch is looking at you intently. “What happened wasn’t your fault.” He says, squeezing your hand.
You lick your chapped lips and drop your eyes, nodding. “It took a long time for me to learn that.”
“I can’t imagine how hard that must have been,” Hotch says. “To have gone through that alone,” he shakes his head. “I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you,” you reply, because what else was there to say? “I wasn’t completely alone. I did go to counseling throughout the remainder of my time in school, they had services for the students. There was a support group, too; one for people who’d experienced sexual violence. It was there I really learned that things weren’t my fault. Other people had experienced similar things. Without that, I don’t think I’d have made it through honestly. I definitely wouldn’t be here.”
His hand squeezes around yours once more. “I’m glad that you are.” He smiles and a dimple forms in his cheek. “I know I'm a better man for having known you. The team, hell, the impact you have on the lives of those going through the worst possible moments of their lives in these cases we work…you have touched so many lives for the better. Please never, ever forget that.”
You smile crookedly and it feels somewhat genuine. “What do you think gets me through the day?”
The throbbing in your temples intensifies suddenly and you screw your eyes shut, your hands moving instinctively to rub them. “God, I’m going to be so hungover in the morning.”
Hotch claps his hands together. “Let’s see if we can’t get ahead of that.”
He leaves the room and when he returns he has a glass of water. “Here,” he says and passes you the cup.
You graciously accept it and take a long drink, the cool water soothing your throat, raw from crying and vomiting. “Thank you,” you murmur.
“It would probably help if you got some sleep. Do you feel up to taking a shower?”
You scoff, “Ok, Hotch. I threw up and it helped a little bit, but I’m not that sober.”
He chuckles and puts his hands up in surrender. “Fair enough. Let me at least get you some clothes. I know sleeping in a cocktail dress won’t be too comfortable.”
“Do you know?” you tease.
He presses his lips together. “Let me go see what I can find.”
You exhale a short laugh as he disappears from view and you fall back onto the mattress, a dull thud echoing as your body hits the sheets. You heave out a big sigh and stare at the ceiling. “This is a weird fucking night.”
You close your eyes and behind closed lids, it feels like you’re spinning. Yep, definitely not sober. You open your eyes and lazily reach up to start pulling bobby pins from your hair.
“Alright, I’ve got a pair of sweats and an old academy hoodie that should fit you.”
At the sound of Hotch’s voice, you let your head loll to the side. “You look absurdly tall from this angle,” you muse.
Hotch chuckles, “Spoken like someone desperately in need of sleep.” He steps into the room and drops the clothes onto the bed.
“Hotch?” you question, ignoring his last comment.
You roll onto your side and push yourself back into a sitting position. He arches an eyebrow. “Yes?”
“Why is it you’ve got makeup wipes in your apartment?” You inhale sharply. “Ooo, are you secretly a drag performer?”
Hotch laughs. “I am not a drag performer, though I do think Anderson does drag brunch on Saturday mornings if I remember right.”
You blink twice. “I’m sorry, and you’re only telling me this now?”
Hotch shrugs. “I’m surprised you don’t know about it. Garcia does.”
Your jaw drops. “Garcia knows?? Oh, when I get my hands on her—”
“To answer your question though,” Hotch butts in, an amused glint shining in his eyes. “They’re Beth’s.”
A smile pulls at your lips. “Beth keeps things at your apartment? What are we talking, like, a couple of things on the counter? A drawer?”
Hotch’s eyes drop to the floor as a scarlet blush creeps up his neck and spreads across his cheeks.
“Oh my God, this is serious isn’t it?” You feel the apples of your cheeks as your smile widens. “Spill, Hotch! Should I be looking at outfits for the wedding?”
To that, Hotch raises his hands as a smile splits his lips. “Calm down,” he laughs. “We’re not quite at wedding bells, but we do see each other almost every weekend. With the commute on the train, it is easy to have a drawer or two at one another’s apartments.”
You feel like kicking your feet, you’re so happy. If anyone deserved this kind of joy and love in their life, it was Hotchner. God knows he deserved it after all the hell he’d been through, all the trauma he survived.
“I’m really happy for you,” you say. “Beth is a remarkable woman”.
Hotch nods, a sheepish smile playing on his lips. “She is.”
You reach over and pull the clothes onto your lap. “Thanks, again, Hotch.” You toy with the sleeve of the hoodie in hand. “As horrified as I was when I realized I’d called you instead of Emily, I’m glad you came. I’m glad it was you.”
“We’re a team. We’re family,” Hotch replies. He leans against the doorframe. “Hell, I’m old enough to be your father. Maybe that’s why I’ve always felt a bit more protective of you, anyway. So, when I heard your voice on the line, there was no hesitation. I’d like to think if I had a daughter and she were in trouble, that someone in her life would do the same.”
You spring off of the bed, a little uncoordinated due to alcohol still gently buzzing in your veins at this point, and throw your arms around him. You bury your face in his neck and though, muffled, you say, “Thank you, Aaron. Thank you so much, for everything.” You don’t need to say what for, he knows. Your gratitude extends far beyond just rescuing you from the night club.
His arms snake around you, his palms pressed flat against the middle of your back as he squeezes you tightly.
“You’re so welcome,” he says into your hair. “I’m so proud of you, you know. Don’t ever forget that.” He pulls away just so and presses a fatherly kiss to your hairline, “I’ll be on the couch if you need anything. Don’t hesitate to wake me up.”
You nod and brush away a stubborn tear. God, you’d think you’d have nothing left in the tank at this point. You stifle a yawn as you close the door. The clothes Hotch left you fit well enough; the warmth and coziness of the fleece lined fabrics acting as security blanket as you tuck yourself in between the sheets. You barely remember to flick off the lamp on the bedside table before crashing onto the pillows where the heaviness of sleep finally drags you under to the sweet realm of nothingness.
Three things are incredibly clear the second you wake up: one, it’s too bright and you have to squint against the white rays of sunlight cutting through the slats in the blinds; two, your mouth feels like it’s stuffed full of cotton balls, you swallow but there’s not even an inkling of saliva to wet your dry throat; and three, it feels like someone has been slamming on a timpani inside of your skull.
You exude a long, slow groan into the pillow before rolling onto your side to get a glimpse of the alarm clock on Hotch’s nightstand. The red numbers blink back 10:23AM. There’s a fresh glass of water on the nightstand alongside two tablets and a folded piece of paper.
Your brow furrows as you prop yourself onto your elbow and reach for the note. You unfold it with one hand and in Hotch’s tight, neat scrawl it reads:
Ran out to grab a few things. I left some aspirin there on the table. You should probably take them.
-Hotch
“You don’t have to tell me twice,” you mutter as you toss the paper onto the bed.
You try not to gag as the pills start dissolving on your tongue and quickly chase it with the glass of water. After washing them down, you make a rather unattractive display of gulping down the remaining water. You drink it so quickly that some spills over the glass and you have to use the sleeve of your sweater, well Hotch’s sweater oops, to wipe off your face.
It doesn’t sound like anyone else is home. Pushing back the sheets, you swing your legs over the side of the bed and stand and for the first time, the room isn’t spinning. Even though Hotch is out, you still walk on the balls of your feet as if you need to be quiet. It feels strange to be stepping out into the hallways and walking into his bathroom. Sure, you’d swung by his apartment a few times to drop off a file or other work necessities. You’d never been in his house though.
Walking in and using his bathroom feels so strange, like an invasion of privacy. Like his bedroom, it’s simply decorated. A shower curtain decorated with blue and green swirls lines one wall. Plush bath mats of a similar blue line the area in front of the shower and sink. His very few toiletries sit in a neat row to the left of the faucet on the sink. He’s a Gillette guy, interesting. You’d always taken him for an Old Spice sort of man. You hear the front door and stop profiling his bathroom, instead, quickly using it for its intended purposes. You can’t help yourself though as you dry off your hands. You pull open the two drawers beneath the sink and smile to yourself. The one holds all of Hotch’s things: razor, comb, toothpaste, the usual; the other is clearly Beth’s: makeup, hair elastics, and the green makeup wipes sit neatly inside among other items. You bump the drawers closed with your hips before making your way back out into the hallway.
“Hey, Hotch,” you say, “Thanks again so much for—” Words fail you as you look up and see JJ and Prentiss in his living room.
Wide smiles spread across their faces. JJ spreads her fingers and holds her hands in the air, “Surprise!”
Brow furrowed, you cross the room and let them pull you into quick hugs.
“Not that I’m not happy to see you all, but what’s going on? Where’s Hotch?”
Emily’s perfectly manicured eyebrows arc toward her hairline as she tilts her head, “He thought you could use a pick me up.”
“So, he called you guys?”
JJ nods. “We’ve all had rough nights, followed by even rougher mornings.” She inclines her head toward Emily. “Remember the morning Hotch ran that triathlon?”
Emily cringes. “God, don’t remind me!”
“Where is Hotch, anyway?” you ask, craning your neck around Emily and JJ.
“Oh,” Emily says, her lips forming the shape of the word. “He should be right behind us he—”
Just then, the front door swings open and it’s not Hotch.
“There she is!” exclaims Penelope. She waltzes into the apartment, adjusting the massive purse on her shoulder as she does so. Her knee length pink skirt swishes around her legs as she crosses the room to pull you into an embrace. The smell of jasmine clings to you as your face is buried in her chest and neck. She pulls away after a long moment, though her hands don’t drop from your shoulders. Her eyes scan your face. “Oh, sweetheart, look at you. Do not fret! Penelope is here to help get you feeling refreshed and revitalized!”
You look to JJ and Emily for help. “I look like shit, don’t I? Be honest.”
JJ shakes her head. “Noooo.”
Emily presses her lips together and tilts her head back and forth, “Well—”
JJ slaps a hand against her stomach and Emily winces. “What?!”
“Drink this,” Penelope says. She reaches into her bag and pulls out a bottle of yellow liquid. You take it and turn to read the label, Crisp Lemon Berry Pedialyte. “It’s got electrolytes. You need those!”
“Yes ma’am,” you say agreeably and crack open the bottle. The label makes it seem like it’ll be better than it is, but the taste is bearable. You need as much hydration as you can get at the moment, so you don’t complain.
“Sorry I took so long!” Hotch’s voice fills the room as he enters carrying a drink tray of coffees and an extra one in his free hand. “Line at the cafe was nearly out the door.”
“Oh my God, is that coffee?” you ask, salivating at the thought.
Penelope points a purple polished finger at you. “Finish that, then you can have coffee.”
He sets a cup down on the kitchen table before approaching them in the living room. “Non-fat, vanilla latte for you,” Hotch says, passing a cup to JJ. “London fog for Emily, can’t quite shake England there, can you?” he teases as Emily accepts the cup, not before flicking him off though with a cheeky grin playing on her berry red lips. Iced matcha green tea latte—”
“With soy?” Penelope questions, eyeing the cup suspiciously.
“With soy,” Hotch confirms and she accepts it happily.
“Last but not least, almond milk mocha for you.” He holds the cup out and smiles warmly. You hold his gaze for a moment, the exchange carrying more than a simple ‘thank you’ would allow for. He dips his chin just slightly in acknowledgment. As you reach for the cup, Penelope’s hand shoots out to intercept, her bangles jangling against her wrist.
“I’ll take that!” she chirps before taking a long sip of her own drink.
“Hey!” you whine.
Penelope gestures toward the Pedialyte with your coffee. “Finish!”
You roll your eyes and reluctantly chug the remaining liquid. “There,” you say and shake the empty bottle. “Happy?”
“Very!” pipes Penelope. “Oh! Here!” she reaches into her bag and withdraws a drawstring bag. Did she own the Mary Poppins bag? How did all of this fit inside of her purse? “I stopped by your apartment and grabbed a few things. Toothbrush, deodorant, change of clothes, the works.”
“Oh, Penelope Garcia, you are my angel!” You gratefully take the bag into your hands and disappear down the hall into the restroom.
The aspirin has started to kick in alongside what attempts you’ve made to rehydrate and the throbbing in your skull has dwindled to a soft drumming. Searching through the contents of the bag, you praise Garcia’s name as you find your skincare and toothbrush.
It takes all of ten minutes for you to brush your teeth, wash your face, and style your hair up and out of your face. Garcia had packed you two different styles of underwear, (leave it to her to give you the choice of thong or bikini styled undergarments. She’s probably also one of the only people you’d feel comfortable rummaging through your underwear drawer if you’re being honest) a pair of leggings, and a cropped Fleetwood Mac t-shirt. You change quickly and fold the sweats and sweater Hotch had lent you. You throw all of your toiletries into the bag and shrug it over shoulder before scooping Hotch’s clothes into your arms.
Hotch and the girls are sitting around the coffee table on the couch and recliner, enjoying their beverages. Penelope smiles widely when you emerge.
“There she is!” she exclaims. “I brought your Birkenstocks too. They’re by the door. Hotch said you’d worn heels out and I knew you definitely wouldn’t want to be in those.”
“Good call,” you say and take your coffee from Penelope. You take a slow sip of the warm mocha and moan.
Everyone laughs. Emily checks her watch and shoots up. “We better get going if we’re going to catch Anderson’s performance.”
Your eyes widen at that. “Wait.”
Emily smiles and nods. “Yep. He comes on in about an hour. We figured you’d need a nice greasy brunch after last night. The place he performs at makes a mean breakfast sandwich.”
“And potatoes with sausage gravy!” Penelope adds. “Though I’m more partial to mushroom gravy because precious baby piggies should not be slaughtered for my breakfast.”
“Okayyy, Penelope,” JJ teases as she loops an arm around her shoulders. “I’m pretty sure they added veggie sausage to their menu just for you.”
“Yeah,” Emily agrees. “They were probably afraid she’d hack their system and mess with their food shipments otherwise.”
Penelope looks over her shoulder as JJ guides her to the door. “I could do that!”
“Gonna pretend I didn’t hear that!” Hotch calls after them as JJ and Penelope leave the apartment.
“I wonder if they remember I’m the one with the car keys,” Emily says, her lips drawn into a warm smile. “Meet you downstairs?”
You nod. “Yes, I’ll be there in a second.”
Emily nods and leaves. You cross the living room toward the door where Hotch stands, one arm holding it open.
“Hotch I—
He shakes his head. “Don’t.”
“No, Hotch. I’m serious. What you did for me last night, I can’t even begin to thank you.”
“And you don’t have to,” he says, his tone firm. You look up and meet his unwavering gaze. “I would do it again without question. Like I said last night, we’re not just a team, we’re family. We look out for each other. We pull each other up when we’re at our lowest. In fact, I should be the one thanking you.”
You can’t help the quizzical expression that pinches your features. “For what? All I did was wake you up in the middle of the night, throw up in your bushes, and kick you out of your own bed on a Friday night.”
Hotch laughs and shakes his head. “Okay, well when you say it like that, it definitely doesn’t look good. What I was going to say though, is thank you for trusting me. I know that I wasn’t who you expected last night, but I’m glad I could be the one to help you when you needed it. Furthermore, I’m incredibly grateful that you felt as though you could trust me to tell me about your past. I know that can’t have been easy. And if you ever need someone to talk to, I hope it’s clear now that you’ll always have a listening ear with me.”
A surge of emotion courses through you in that moment and you can’t help but launch yourself at him. You loop an arm around his neck and awkwardly attempt to hug him with the other arm that stills holds his clothes, the bundle of fabric creating an odd wedge between your bodies. Hotch is taken aback by the gesture, but his arms comfortably fold around your back and he squeezes you gently.
“I could’ve used someone like you, you know.” You say after a moment. “I didn’t really have any older male figures I could talk to at the time it happened.”
“Well, I’m here now,” he assures you. “And I’m not going anywhere. That is, until Strauss gets sick of me.”
You pull back and scoff. “Yeah, like that’ll happen any time soon.” You hold the clothes out to him. “Here! Before I walk out with them.”
“It’s actually a bit breezy out there,” Hotch says as he takes the bundle and passes you back the sweater. “Why don’t you take this?”
You reach out and accept it, pulling it back into your chest. “I’ll bring it with me to the office on Monday.”
“Sounds good,” he says with a smile. “Oh! And you’ll probably want these.” He walks away and while he’s off grabbing whatever it is he’s talking about, you scoop your heels up off the floor and slide into your Birkenstocks.
Hotch returns with a pair of black Ray Bans. “If I know one thing about hangovers,” he says as he passes them to you. “It’s how horrible a sunny day can be on the eyes.”
He reaches for the door knob and pulls it open for you. “Enjoy your weekend. I’ll see you at work on Monday.”
As you slide his sunglasses up the bridge of your nose, you curse. “Shit! The report on the McPherson case. I was going to work on it today. I’ll email it to you first thing tomorrow.”
“It’s already taken care of,” Hotch explains. “Emily and JJ took care of it for you before coming over this morning.” He’d orchestrated everything with them as soon as he’d woken up to make sure you had nothing to worry about today except for fighting your hangover. He’d not told them everything of course, he’d never betray your trust like that. Some things the team didn’t need to know, and that was okay. If you were ever ready to tell them, he knew you would in time. For now, he just told them that you’d had a tough night and would need some TLC from the girl gang. They hadn’t even bothered with follow up questions. The three girls were ready to drop what they were doing and change their plans to be able to bring comfort and fun to your Saturday morning. He’d have done the same thing for any of them if they’d been in your shoes.
Your lips quirk into a small smile knowing further words weren’t necessary to convey your gratitude and appreciation for all he’d done and continues to do. “I’ll see you, Monday.”
He smiles in turn, “See you, Monday.”
469 notes · View notes
directdogman · 5 months
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Commenting on DT fan OCs!
Alright, I'mma take a look at some DT fan OCs! I've been sent quite a few, so I'll try to keep my comments for each one short 'n' sweet!
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great name, snappy dresser. diggin' the bowtie! the pins are also a fun accessory!
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Another snappy dresser! Tied well to an existing location in-game and the idea to explain the stickers is cute! attire is unique/memorable and the blues/browns compliment each other well. solid design. I do appreciate him!
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Yo, this guy was in the last one! what is this, a crossover episode???
the bandage on side of face is a nice touch! digging the pinstripe pants too! graveyard shift at a convenience store is also quite an authentic job for a DT side character to have too! very nicely done.
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Solid OC! well-drawn, unique job and her fit's stylish (it probably goes without saying that i'm a sucker for TV heads with dogs on them. that's gotta be a given, right?) The stickers on the back of the head are also a nice addition! well done!
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Stanley's a real cad, huh? pizza delivery guy with a novelty pizza phone head is genius - making him flirt with milves on the job is just inspired though. i almost wish i'd come up with this guy, as i can totally imagine people around town talking about him. excellent job!!!
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he's aptly named for an arcade dude! dig the fit too, especially the black + purple fingerless long sleeve gloves! the decals on the phone are neat too!
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I approve of his activities but the lack of a visible mouth threw me off, since i've seen these old toy phones before, ofc.
i was about to ask "how does he drink ocean water without a mouth", before realizing that id been bamboozled into asking the fandom-favourite question of: 'how does he eat without a mouth?', only to then remember that practically no DT characters have visible mouths.
i hope you know that you've strained my weary brain today. cool OC, though.
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banana phone's a fun concept! also, i must say your username's quite fitting. crept up on me from my peripheral as I gazed upon the banana phone, like a bizarre centipede of some sort. well, i'd assume so. in hindsight, most centipedes i've encountered have been pretty straightforward with me. i guess i should be grateful for that.
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i like mary's fuzzy phone matching the trim of her dress but martin's really got my attention. cool name, neat quirk (he kills people, that takes moxie. hell, even pizzaz too, dare i say?) The dial being a lil clock is a neat touch since it ties his interest into the design. also quite like the cord tail matching the phone head's colour. solid design!
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i like his head-type and the attire/pale skin gives a nice bit of contrast!
hard to say how randy'd feel about him, as someone who's only seen his design and 2 lines of dialogue (as someone's personality dictates randy's opinion on them far more than their appearance.) if you feel they'd get on though, you're probably correct! (randy isn't too picky, after all!)
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Funnily enough, one of the earliest sketches for crown has a similar bolted plate stuck to a mostly intact phone head. it was even sticking from one of the sides. or corners. i'd have to dig up the notebook, as it's been like 4 years since I came up with the character. Sorry, just made me remember since the earliest sketches had one too.
Copper phone head's a neat idea. Contrasts well with his attire as well (nice and complimentary.) if only his attempts to deter jesse from the za worked out as well, eh?
Alright, that's it for me! thanks for the submissions, these were real creative! good job, everyone!
275 notes · View notes
str4wb3rr1e · 1 year
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Tom Kaulitz x fem!reader
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Synopsis: He knew how one night stands worked, he’d had tons, but what was it that made him so god damn attracted to her?
Warnings: meantions of smut, overall fluff.
You woke up covered in your duvets as your phone chimed a couple times making you groan and rub your eyes, sitting up you picked up your phone and tried your best to read whatever message you got.
Unknown number? You opened your inbox and slowly started to read the texts your blurry vision making it harder to focus
“Hey, this is Tom.” Read the first text, Tom? You thought to yourself.
Tom! It clicked in your head, the guitarist you had slept with a few nights ago.
“You forgot your glasses, figured you’d want them back.”
Your glasses? What glasses?
You reached out for your night table, shuffling around the stuff as you noticed something was missing, your glasses.
Your dior glasses.
“Fuck…” you mumbled as you dialed the number in desperation of getting your expensive accessory back.
“Hello?” You called, “Hey, is this (Y/N)?” Said the voice on the other line.
“Yeah, yeah… umm, I kinda forgot my-“, “Glasses? Yeah I know they’re here right now.” Tom finished your sentence for you with a chuckle.
“Yeah, yeah” you chuckled back, “So, if you could just drop it in the lobby of the hotel or you know whatever-“, “Why don’t you come pick it up? Does 8 sound good?” Again Tom cut you off.
You weren’t bothered by it though.
“Yeah, alright, 8 sound fine.” You replied, “Perfect, see you tonight.” He said before hanging up.
You stood there for a second, your brain trying to process what the fuck just happened.
“Just gonna get my glasses back.” You mumbled to yourself trying your best to hide your excitement.
It wasn’t long until the time you’ve been waiting all day had come, at 7:43 you called a cab and drove to the hotel.
Currently it was 8:01, standing at the gates of the hotel under the big gray clouds above you.
“Alright, just go get your glasses back.” You huffed as you stepped inside the gigantic building.
It wasn’t everyday you’ve had to meet up with your one night stands.
“Hi, umm, room 834?” You asked at the receptionist who gave you a dirty look before navigating to the room.
“Thanks, bitch.” You’ve mumbled that last part of course.
The elevator dings as the door opened to your destination, floor 8.
You slowly walked around the hall, your heels clicking with every step you took against the carpet floor.
Room 834… Room 834… And there it was.
Instead of standing awkwardly in front of the door you decided to knock.
A couple of seconds later the boy opened the door from the other side.
“(Y/N), hold on for a moment…” he said before disappearing back into the room.
He came back with your glasses and leaned against the doorway.
“Here,” he handed you your expensive glasses carefully, “Thanks” you smiled as you caressed your glasses.
Even though this was exactly why you got here his looks and the way he gazed into your eyes made it seem like he wanted more than that.
And not going to lie, you also wanted that, that thing that makes your mind go fuzzy and make you forget about all the things you should worry about.
So without further ado you collided your lips together, his hands traveling to your waist squeezing the parts that your jeans highlighted.
You don’t quite remember how you ended up here, laying flat on Tom’s bed as his head on you bare chest, your hand massaging his scalp every now and then.
“You do this with every girl?” You asked breaking the silence,
“Do what?” He turned his head to look at you.
“Call them to your room, have sex, send them away right after?”
He chuckled at your obvious detailed question, “Not like this…” he replied lifting his head from your chest.
“Right, the girls you’ve fucked right in this room would disagree.” You chuckled.
“Yeah but, never called any of them back…” he gazed into your eyes as his index finger brushed across your cheek.
“You’re saying I’m special?” You smiled sheepishly, “You sure do feel special.” He smiled back.
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kyuuumie · 9 days
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random sfw beetlebabes headcanons ( ◕▽◕)
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headcanons below the cut (๑◕◡◕๑)
🪲 - beetlejuice often doesn’t understand normal relationship conventions (like boundaries), but lydia takes it in stride and teaches him gently.
🕷️ - when lydia feels down or lonely, beetlejuice often reminds her that he’ll always be there, “literally forever,” in his own darkly humorous way.
🪲 - beetlejuice takes lydia on spontaneous “dates” exploring strange corners of the neitherworld, like haunted graveyards or surreal ghost markets.
🕷️ - lydia loves beetlejuice's morbid jokes, and she matches his wit with her own deadpan sarcasm. they thrive on snarky banter. lydia's sharp, clever remarks keep beetlejuice on his toes, and he loves that she can match his energy.
🪲 - beetlejuice is fiercely protective of lydia. he may be insane normally, but he’ll go to extremes if anyone tries to hurt or upset her.
🕷️ - lydia has a strange ability to calm beetlejuice down when he gets too wild, sometimes by just giving him a deadpan look or a quiet word.
🪲 - beetlejuice is obsessed with lydia’s dark, gothic style and often compliments her on how “dead” she looks.
🕷️ - the maitlands constantly worry about lydia’s relationship with beetlejuice, but they can see how much she brightens up when he’s around.
🪲 - beetlejuice can be possessive of lydia, but she’s quick to remind him that she doesn’t belong to anyone, and he grudgingly respects that.
🕷️ - they bond over their love for the strange and unusual, collecting creepy trinkets and weird objects for lydia's room and beetlejuice’s lair.
🪲 - beetlejuice encourages lydia to embrace her wild side and break rules, while she occasionally tries to keep him from going too far.
🕷️ - lydia’s already gothic wardrobe takes on a new twist with beetlejuice's influence. she incorporates his black-and-white stripes into her outfits, and he occasionally wears accessories she picks out, like a black lace cravat.
🪲 - beetlejuice loves showing off for lydia, whether it’s by pulling pranks on other ghosts or creating over-the-top visual spectacles just to see her smile.
🕷️ - lydia is the voice of reason in their relationship, reminding beetlejuice when to dial back the mayhem (though she doesn’t mind some chaos).
🪲 - beetlejuice writes lydia strange, ghostly love letters that appear in her journal or on her walls, written in creepy fonts or made of shadow. she keeps them all in a secret journal.
🕷️ - they bicker all the time, but it’s in good fun. lydia rolls her eyes at beetlejuice’s over-the-top antics, and he loves how unimpressed she can be.
🪲 - beetlejuice attempts to woo lydia with morbid gifts, like a bouquet of dead roses or skull-shaped candies, which lydia finds oddly sweet.
🕷️ - lydia’s calm, introspective nature has a positive influence on beetlejuice. while he’s still mischievous, he sometimes finds himself considering her feelings before acting.
🪲 - though he’s loud and brash, beetlejuice has a soft spot for lydia, and when they’re alone, he sometimes drops his over-the-top persona and lets himself be vulnerable with her.
🕷️ - they both thrive in the dark, often staying up all night together, discussing strange topics or watching the moonlight over the cemetery.
🪲 - when the mood strikes, they’ll have impromptu dances under the moonlight or in spooky, abandoned places, often to eerie, old-fashioned music that beetlejuice conjures up.
🕷️ - while lydia knows beetlejuice is far from perfect, she won’t tolerate anyone else badmouthing him. if anyone insults him, she’ll immediately come to his defense.
🪲 - beetlejuice can get ridiculously jealous, even of inanimate objects that take up lydia’s attention—he might grumble if she spends too much time with her photography or reading instead of him.
🕷️ - while lydia enjoys quiet, solitary activities like photography and art, beetlejuice constantly interrupts, bored, and drags her into wild ghostly antics. she indulges him just to get some peace later.
🪲 - their relationship is filled with playful pranks on each other, like beetlejuice turning into a shadowy figure to scare lydia, only for her to casually throw salt at him, unimpressed.
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colourstreakgryffin · 7 months
Note
AHHHH CAN YOU PRETTY PLEASE DO IF REQUEST ARE OPEN A ALASTOR X A SMALL READER (SHINOBU READER BASICALLY) WHERE SHE INSECURE ABOUT HER SELF SINCE SHE SMALL
Yessss. Yesss. Yessss! Alastor is like, what, 6-7ft tall?! So, he got a small girlfriend and he loves that small girlfriend! The comfort will be good since Al will be able to finally realise that his jokes are harmful and take responsibility for them! So, let’s doooooo it~!
Alastor- Beauty From Within
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“My dear” After so long of just rather comforting hollow silent, the alarming, almost screeching sound of a radio dialing up and halting slightly then the familiar transatlantic accent of your secret boyfriend rings out. As if materialises from thin air, Alastor just suddenly appears on your right, comfortable, fully-dressed with dressshoes on and his microphone-cane at the ready exactly where your faced as you both laid on your Hotel room’s bed
You were cuddled up in the blankets like a little butterfly cocoon, your mind racing and requiring some peace for the day but here is your boyfriend… here to ruin that need
Immediately jolting back in shock and a natural defensive instinct from being jumpscared by your partner without a single bit of warning, a classic Alastor move, you were flung off onto the soft carpet-lathered floor of the Hotel room. Unlike with most where Alastor would just smirk through the fall and find it amusing to see whoever fell harm themselves, Alastor blinks a bit more concerned and slightly leans over to check on you
“What the fuck, Al?!” You growl out, shaken and irriated when you gather back your wits and ability to think upon recovering from the fall as you go from half-flopped on your back and on the half-cushioned floor, to on your knees with an annoyed, dishearten expression on the floor
Alastor simply and smoothly leans over the edge of the bed where you are sat and his grin grows, curious and just a breath away from asking the million dollar question on his mind, drawing your discouraged and self-conscious darken gaze up to him
“Why aren’t you down in the Lobby, darling, Tora?”
You didn’t even want to answer him with the truth but when it comes to Alastor, it feels like it’s almost impossible to genuinely lie to him without him being able to sniff it out effortlessly. Should you even try? Well… you figure Alastor will notice that you’re not telling him your reality and just make it harder for you. That’s how Alastor is, he’s protective and he jumps right to the worst conclusion if you don’t open your mouth
Okay… here goes nothing
“It’s just… I needed some time alone. I don’t want to go out there and have everybody laugh at me”
Hearing this from his beloved little girlfriend makes Alastor’s ears jolt up in surprise, eyes widening and lips parting as he remains in place leant over the bed’s bottom edge but still on top as you lean against his soft cool darkly pale cheek like it’s a pillow, closing your own eyes whilst just letting out all your self esteem problems in just a few words. Alastor can recognise something’s very wrong and he is determined to find the cause
“Laugh at you? Who would laugh at you? You’re incredible, you’re intelligent, you’re ladylike and gentle, your personality is made of sugar and cream, your little butterfly features are gorgeous. What is there to mock? I don’t see a single thing” You couldn’t help but feel offended that Alastor is pretending he doesn’t know or is generally oblivious to what the problem is and how he regularly fuels the burning fire himself. A bigger clawed hand grips the pretty purple, white and aquamarine patterned butterfly ornament hairclip pinning your pitch dark hair into a thick bun, he loves that little butterfly accessory. It makes your adorable little look even more precious
You’re a beautiful fluttery butterfly within Hell, he can’t see why anybody in the Hotel would find you a laughing stock
“Alastor… just… stop” You softly bark, nothing to be rude or uncaring or harsh to your beloved but nothing to be firm, to have him take you seriously, to have him hear you out. Alastor immediately retracts his skilled fingers away from your hairclip, leaving it to stand out against your darker features effectively before he leans back slightly, upon you pulling yourself away from your boyfriend a bit roughly and climbing back up onto the bed to gather the quilts in your palms
Alastor takes a long moment or two to speak, his voice a bit heavy in a small but noticeable tint of rejection and heartbreak. He is now actually worried, worried that you are upset over the desire of wanting to break up with him. Alastor overreacts in this relationship and jumps to conclusions so at this very moment, the Radio Demon is internally begging that the next time you speak, you don’t say ‘it’s over’ in any fashion
“Darling… what’s wrong? You know you can talk to me about anything—“ Alastor didn’t even get the chance to finish and with other people, he’d be greatly annoyed at being cut off so rudely but with you, he cares more about what’s wrong with you than a gesture of respect, such as waiting to speak, so he stays quiet and listens to you, tall deer-like ears sitting up and flicking as a sign that his full attention is on you
“I-It’s… that. You and your friends often… y-you know, ridicule my height. Call me such mean names, call me shortstack, call me a midget, say I can fit into a box, say I am a weak little butterfly. It really hurts hearing that shit from you, of all people, Al”
Alastor didn’t even realise how insecure you are over your height. You’re 4’11, shorter than Vaggie and your beloved seven foot boyfriend loves to mock you about it, right in front of you and to the other Hotel inhabitants. He finds it amusing, he finds it funny, he views it as a joke and as harmless. But he isn’t aware that calling you ‘a caterpillar’ or ‘a baked bean’ just really kills your self-confidence. Yeah, you agreed with Alastor that you’d never show off that you’re dating him but does that mean you have to sit around and listen to him ‘joke’ about your height
“Leitora… I didn’t know you felt that way about my public nicknames for you. Why didn’t you just tell me to stop? I can easily shut Angel and Niffty up from all the remarks” Alastor wonders outloud, clearly now much softer, curious, if not regretful for his mountain of mistakes that lead to your distress. You’ve never seen Alastor feel remorse over anything he had done but here is he, desiring fully that he didn’t beat you up at your most vulnerable spot. He just didn’t know, he thought it was okay since you never brought it up with him. His crimson bloody eyes shine with a glittery gleam of concern and protectiveness
“I couldn’t, Al… everybody would be suspicious if you did something for me without any deal or some bullshit, and not do the same for anybody else when they ask” Alastor can seriously understand that, you’re just doing what you promised him. Not a say word about the relationship… but now, he almost wants to just give up on this covering up the truth nonsense so he can never deliberately, even if regretful, make fun of a factor about you you cannot control
Maybe… he should just suck it up, man up and admit the truth, even if it hurts his reputation. Hurting you hurts his undead soul a lot more
“It also doesn’t help that you’re basically a giant and next to you… I feel like I could be crushed any second and you wouldn’t even notice me. Are you sure you don’t… want a woman whose normal height. A lady you can actually kiss without needing to pick up?” You wouldn’t even mind if Alastor genuinely despised your height and preferred you to be taller. Every single second of you admitting how you feel you’re not good enough for Alastor breaks his undead black emptiness for a heart. He can’t stand that you think so low of yourself, all because of a physical factor you have no control over
He’s exactly 7’3 foot tall, he’s a mighty man with mighty legs and mighty towering length on him. He’s your guardian angel… or guardian demon, since he can oversee you and everything around you easily. You do like that he’s taller but you know it must be painful for him to deal with something two to three feet shorter than him
However, Alastor actually doesn’t want a different woman, he loves you and no matter what you have, he won’t stop loving you. So, Alastor, after taking a another needed moment to absorb the way clear tears hit your pretty delicate face, takes one of your hands and kissing the back of it, his returning voice cutting off the radio effect entirely to make this even more meaningful and sincere as his sharp crimson eyes draw open when he finishes the soft kiss to your hand, held in his in the most gentlemanly way possible, and his natural voice imbued with passionate love
“My dearest. A butterfly may be small but that insect species is a beautiful symbol of grace, elegance and life, you are quite the butterfly since it represents you so well. You may be a shorter woman but the best things come in small packages”
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samiiy20 · 9 months
Text
♡ 𝐋𝐞𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐡𝐨 (𝐟𝐭. 𝐇𝐚𝐧) ♡
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𝑃𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: Dom!Lee Minho x fem!reader x Han Jisung 𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: Smut 𝑊𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡:4.6k (I don't know what happened jsjs) 𝑆𝑦𝑛𝑜𝑝𝑠𝑖𝑠: After planning a surprise for your boyfriend, something unexpected happens when you have a third guest, but they prefer to take advantage of it.
N/A: This is something to celebrate 250 followers, thank you all very much for reading me <3
masterlist II tag list
This content NOT is for minors!!!
This is merely entertainment, this does not represent any real person.
It is forbidden to copy or translate my work.
English NO is my first language.
Warnings below the cut
𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: Threesome, unprotected sex (don't do it), a bit of degradation, oral sex, eating cum, nicknames: kitten,dacryphilia, overstimulation. I'm sorry if I forgot something
˚♡⋆。˚♡⋆。˚♡⋆。˚♡⋆。˚♡⋆。˚♡⋆。˚♡
You never thought about doing something like this. You had never imagined that you would end up agreeing to fulfill one of your boyfriend's fantasies. But you had given it a thousand thoughts, he had done it for you before, you could do the same for him once.
Your figure in the mirror made you feel like something didn't fit, maybe it was the soft tight lingerie that highlighted your skin, maybe it was the leather necklace that it sounded every time you moved or the pointy cat ears on your head. No, it was nothing like that, maybe it was the last accessory on the bed that you left for last, but just looking at it made your skin crawl.
It was a cute, fluffy cat tail.
Although you didn't want to accept it, all of this was embarrassing to you, you had never thought about wearing something like that. You sighed, looking at yourself for the last time in the glass, thinking about what to do, anyway Minho would never find out that you bought the outfit if you hid it.
You looked at the tail again and caressed it, you knew that without it the outfit would make no sense, but a part of you screamed that you looked ridiculous and the thought of what Minho would make you do dressed like that made you nervous.
Maybe you were being too accommodating to him, you threw things on the bed thinking about how things were before you met Minho, no one had ever made you even think about doing something like this, but here you were, in a set of lingerie just for him to tell you what to do.
“This is a bad idea,” you said as you decided where to hide what you bought.
***
Minho's cell phone hadn't stopped ringing the entire time, but no matter how much he wanted to take it out, he remained calm and composed because no one knew that he had a girlfriend. They had kept it a secret for a long time and they both agreed, they liked to be discreet, without pressure, and it was the best thing with the job he had.
He took out his cell phone to see the hundreds of calls he had from you and a single message. “I have a surprise for you <3” and that was enough to say goodbye.
“I have to go” he said, getting up from the table to get out of there.
At first the boys insisted that he stay, but after making excuses they agreed, accepting his decision.
“Do you think you can take me, I want to go too” Minho looked at Jisung looking for something to reject him, but he sighed in agreement. It would be a short way and he could get rid of him quickly he thought.
"you listening?" Minho finally let go of his thoughts and focused on his friend.
“Sorry, I'm distracted.”
“I noticed it” Jisung was not the most observant but he definitely knew that something was wrong with Minho, he kept moving his leg and looked at the time more than usual “are you in a hurry to get there?”
"A little bit"
It wasn't that he didn't want to spend time with his friend, but he hadn't seen you in a while and thinking that you had dialed hundreds of times made him think more than necessary. He just wanted to come into the house and hug you, kiss your sweet skin and sleep next to you until the next morning.
When the car finally stopped Minho didn't wait any longer and took the things from him.
"Bye bye."
"Are you OK? You act strange”
“I'm fine, it's nothing.”
"You're lying to me?"
"Nooo, I really feel good." He opened the car door and tried to say goodbye but he saw Han's worried face. "I'm serious."
“You don't convince me” Minho was losing his patience but he didn't want to be rude so he forced himself to take a deep breath and show a sincere smile.
“Han, why would I lie to you?” Jisung sighed, he knew Minho better than anyone, he knew that he was lying but he didn't understand why and that made him think about many things, "do you want to walk me to the door?"
“I think it would be best.”
Minho sighed tiredly and had no choice but to accept, at first he was worried that Han would see you but knowing you he knew that you would spend it in the room and that you had probably fallen asleep, so he didn't give it much importance and tried to act normal.
“Well, we're here and I'm fine.”
“Are you indirectly telling me to leave?”
"YES" he screamed in his head, but he actually laughed and grabbed his friend's shoulder to hug him.
“Nooo, but you don't want to come in, do you?”
"It would not bother me."
In their entire friendship there was never a time when Han would bother Minho as much as he did today, but it wasn't his fault, he didn't think that his best friend was hiding his girlfriend.
Minho had no choice but to take out the keys and open the door, sighing in annoyance and begging you not to come out, but as soon as he turned on the light he could only curse for not having thrown Han out the window.
The boys' jaws dropped when they saw a half-naked woman lying face down on one of the couches. Pointed ears adorned her head that matched the cute, big tail she wore on her butt. But as Minho had assumed you were asleep, so deeply that you hadn't even realized that someone had entered.
“Ahh… I… Ahhh” Han was still trying to get his eyes to take off from that woman's butt but now he knew why Minho was acting so strange, although the questions piled up in his throat. Who was she? Was she her friend? His lover? Did Minho have a girlfriend?
Minho hurried to close the door in case someone passed by, he was surprised, if this was your surprise he wasn't expecting it, he thought you had new pajamas or that you had bought cute lingerie, but not an animal outfit. He was cursing over and over again not knowing what to do, did he cover you? Did he drag his friend out? But then what? Would you tell others? Would it be his secret? Or would he keep it in some corner of his memory?
"Who is she?"
“This is not the time to ask”
“But… She's naked on your couch.” Han's voice sounded upset and even though he knew he shouldn't be there, his feet were glued to the floor.
"Be quiet"
“Wouldn't it be better if I left?”
“Don't you think it's too late?” Minho was quick to run to where you were and cover your body “we have to talk.”
Han couldn't hear him, he was focused on the girl's silhouette on the couch but he forced himself not to look when his friend came to where you were.
Minho felt a little embarrassed and humiliated, but he didn't want to put you through the same thing, although he could also feel the anger running through his veins at seeing you so calm, as if you were making fun of him.
He sat on the edge of the couch and caressed your bare back going down to the beginning of your panties and he stopped to see what you were wearing, he opened his mouth when he saw the cat's tail. How could you fall asleep with something like that on your ass?
The touch of his fingers made you react and you squirmed as you regained consciousness. You held back the urge to jump on him and hug him, instead you smiled placing your hand on his thigh caressing him.
“Surprise,” you whispered, closing your eyes again.
“I have a surprise for you too,” he said, moving closer to your ear and caressing the ears on your head.
You nodded without thinking, Minho was the only man who could order you anything and you would obey without complaining, even if he didn't ask you, just now that you left your shame aside just to please his fantasies no matter how stupid you felt.
"Yeah?"
“Aha…” Minho turned to look at his friend and you followed his gaze finding Jisung. Their eyes met for a few seconds but Han quickly turned in another direction.
Even though you had never seen him in person you could tell who he was. Han Jisung, Minho's best friend and co-worker. From time to time he used to tell you things about boys but especially about him. Even so, you couldn't help but feel a little exposed and you sat up trying to hide your body.
"What is he doing here? “You invited him without telling me?” Han took a step back as the whispers between you began to take the form of an argument. He was confused and his mind only thought about your butt “I look ridiculous.”
“Shhh it's not what it seems” Minho had regained his composure. He had an idea but he needed your help "this wasn't planned kitty" the nickname made your skin crawl, but it still couldn't calm your nerves "we can't let him go like this" Minho's eyes looked at his still friend and you You did the same, noticing how his hands covered his crotch. “Besides, you've always wanted to have a threesome, right?”
Minho's words seemed unreal. You didn't understand what was happening although his words made you think about the possibilities and the idea made you clench your legs.
"But are you sure?"
“No problem, believe me, I know him better than anyone” Minho caressed your cheek making you look into his eyes again. You were a little scared, but you trusted him, but you remembered the multiple times Minho refused to have a threesome, that was the only thing he hadn't agreed to, but now you could comply. You looked at his friend one last time and analyzed it better, he seemed like a good guy, a little nervous and shy, but you knew that he hadn't stopped looking at you.
With a little hesitation you moved on the couch, making the object in your ass move, reminding you that you were carrying it.
“I don't…”
“I know you too” he grabbed your chin and moved closer to your mouth “don't play dumb.”
Han turned around when he saw Minho kiss you. He was cursing himself for insisting so much on coming, but a part of him was grateful to have been able to see that pretty body of yours. He felt tense and a little sore in his crotch, now what he wanted to do was get to his house to touch his cock thinking about you.
"Are you ready?" He whispered when he took his lips off of you, a little dizzy you nodded trying to maintain your composure while Minho stood up leaving your body exposed again “I'm so sorry Han, I was rude” Jisung didn't dare look at his friend and just said. see the ceiling. Minho smiled, holding back his laughter and continued with sarcasm, “I think I haven't introduced them well. Han, she's my new pet” Jisung looked at you for a microsecond seeing that you had sat on your knees with your hands between your legs “kitty, he's our special guest, why don't you say hello?”
Han was still looking at the ceiling, ignoring his labored breathing when he noticed out of the corner of his eye that you got off the couch and started walking on all fours. Curiosity got the better of him and he met you when you caressed your head with his legs, tilting your torso to leave your butt up.
"Shit, this can't be happening" "it's a dream" Han thought when he noticed the details in your outfit.
“She likes you” Minho took his friend by the shoulder and forced him to walk to the couch “why don't you come with us? Surely you want to stay longer, right?”
Minho was making fun of Han and he knew it but even with his hands on his crotch he didn't know what to do. He didn't want to be an idiot, but when he saw you coming towards them he tried to get up. Minho was stronger and held him back, smiling as you climbed over both of their laps, letting your body fall into the boys' legs with your ass on Jisung's legs.
“Minho… Am…” his hands had been trapped under your body and he could feel the warmth of your belly in them, he was grateful and cursing in equal measure but this was being a lot to process “I… I'm sorry.” , I didn't think that… Umm… You were with someone.”
“It doesn't matter anymore, you're here now.” Minho caressed your head as you moved it over his member and Han swallowed to continue.
"But…"
“Shhh I know what you think” he said in a more serious tone, leaving aside the smile and sarcasm “you better take advantage before I regret it and force you to leave in that state”
Han was left with his mouth open, not knowing what to say and with a thousand questions rolling through his mind, but Minho's look had something that he had never seen before, he didn't want to know if his words were true. He let himself be carried away by the sensation of his member and let out a sigh when he released his hands from your body, revealing his erection in your belly.
Minho's hands in your hair and Han's on your back made you feel more relaxed than you expected. His caresses were soft and delicate, although Han's were a little trembling when they touched your butt. You allowed yourself to close your eyes, enjoying the softness of new hands on your body.
You shifted your hips in Han's lap and cursed when you felt his hardness rub against your pussy.
“Shit” Suddenly Minho grabbed your hair and raised your face, making you open your eyes to look at him.
"What's happening? Can cats talk?” A wave of shame washed over you, but you swallowed your pride and opened your mouth, letting out a low meow.
Han was freaking out, but he wanted to hear you meow again even just a little. He grabbed one of your buttocks and squeezed it, not caring that his friend was close to him. You looked in his direction but Minho held you tighter, making you look at him again with the warning in his eyes, making you meow again. higher.
“Much better,” Minho's mouth crashed onto your lips before protesting and this time Han couldn't help but look away, noticing how his mouths connected perfectly while his tongues played.
“Damn Minho.”
You separated from your boyfriend smiling and stood up to go with Han. Minho felt something light up inside him when he saw how you grabbed the face of his friend and brought him closer to bring his lips together. Han's kisses were softer, more delicate, trying to memorize his movements and control the rhythm. The boy's hands grabbed your face, trying to get you closer to him, putting his tongue in your mouth to taste you. They were starting to gain momentum and seemed to fit together better every second, so much so that you somewhat forgot about Minho putting you on top of Han's legs.
You were immersed in the softness of other lips, the movements of other kisses, the hands of another man touching your waist that when Minho grabbed your breasts from behind to massage them you had to break away to take a breath. Your back collided with his body and showed the spectacle of his caressing Han, who took the opportunity to lick your neck.
Minho managed to get rid of your bra to knead your flesh and pinch your nipples while he watched your face rest on his abdomen and Jisung's mouth devour your neck. His gaze connected and he smiled a little as he saw your eyes begging for more, but he wouldn't give it to you easily, not after seeing how much you enjoyed the kisses and caresses of his friend.
Jisung was intoxicated by your skin, he didn't think any had flavor but yours was sweet and addictive. He couldn't stop and he fit his teeth a little making you let out a moan, he continued going down until he found hands denying him access to your breasts. He dared to look up at his friend and with a growl Minho stopped massaging one to let him continue while he wrapped his fingers around your neck.
Han's tongue drew circles on one of your nipples while the other was crushed between Minho's fingers. You let your fingers tangle in Han's hair as you watched Minho a little displeased without taking your eyes off of him.
You knew what Minho could be if he was jealous and even if you didn't say it you liked him a little, ignoring his gaze you moved your hips forward rubbing yourself on Han's member. The boy's muffled sighs reached Minho's head, he squeezed the grip on your neck looking at you with a sideways smile.
You couldn't focus on just one part of your body, your whole body was immersed in new sensations. Han's mouth on your chest, Minho's fingers on your neck, Han's cock caressing your pussy, Minho's hardness on your back, the growing humidity in your panties, but above all every time you moved you could feel the toy in your ass It wasn't unpleasant, it felt good and it even made you squirm a little to seek more satisfaction. It was something a little new and even though you still thought you looked ridiculous you secretly liked it a little. Being humiliated and obeying Minho tickled your core, but having two men do the same thing made you burn inside.
You couldn't speak and every time you opened your mouth to moan you closed it again, you didn't want to meow again. Seeing it, Minho took the opportunity to make fun of you.
“What's up kitten?” His hand made light pressure on the necklace you were wearing. “Are you thirsty?” Do you want some milk?” You opened your eyes and smiled, dare him a little.
"Yeah"
Minho took your body and you obeyed without resistance. Even with his hand on your neck, he turned you and kissed you, trying to replace the trail of Jisung's kisses, you moaned when you felt his teeth catch your lips while his hands descended to your center. You grabbed his shoulders as you felt the sudden sensation of his fingers massaging your clit and you heard laughter behind you drawing your body to the couch.
They laid you down, placing your head on one end and you could see Han unbuttoning his pants while shame painted your face at the sight of his cock exposed to him. You licked your lips as you saw the drops of semen running down the base to his balls, you shifted, getting comfortable and letting your hair hang a little.
“I'll be good to you, cutie.” Minho ignored the nickname and nodded while his friend looked for approval in his eyes. You opened your lips, feeling the weight of the tip on your tongue. You moaned, sending shivers down Han's spine as he watched you stroke his cock, savoring the first drops.
He couldn't wait any longer, he pushed his hips slowly enjoying the view of how you swallowed his cock and adapted to his size. You moaned as you felt the pressure on your throat as he began to move again to begin his thrusts.
Minho would have been lying if he said he wasn't enjoying it a little, he felt the pressure in his pants every time he saw how your body twitched when Han pushed his hips into your mouth, but he wasn't going to stay behind watching how his friend made you feel good. He placed himself between your legs, separating your knees, revealing the wet spot on your panties and smiled, passing his fingers just to have a little fun. He bit his lips to suppress a moan as he moved the fabric to see your wet pussy and he didn't wait any longer to taste you.
Your legs reacted quickly when you felt Minho's tongue move in your pussy but he held you back, continuing to lick your juices and swirl your clit. You moaned into Han's cock letting a bit of spittle run from the corners of your mouth as you were imprisoned beneath him.
You moved your hips searching for Minho's tongue but his arms quickly held you in place.
“Don't be impatient kitten” Minho watched as Han's face contorted making his last movements while he grabbed your breasts, pressing your nipples to make you moan. He sighs, running his fingers over your entrance, inserting two of them to touch the right spot inside to help his friend get pleasure from him.
Han moved his hips with difficulty as he felt his cock tremble, releasing his load into your mouth. You thirstily swallowed as much as you could but in the end some drops escaped, letting them run down your neck. Han pulled out, but your ragged breathing only made Minho continue pounding his fingers deep into you.
“Min… I'm going to cum.”
“Scream my name kitten” Minho didn't stop, he continued pounding your pussy and he could feel your walls squeeze his fingers and see how you were fighting not to shed tears, your heavy breathing and his name leaving your sweet lips made him almost forget that he had ever met you seen enjoying someone else, when he saw your back arch and clench your fists he stopped denying you the pleasure.
Tears fell, painting your face at Minho's decision, your body was restless and you needed to calm it down. You stood up, staggering a little, if he didn't want to give it to you you would look for someone who would.
You found Han sitting on the single couch and crawled over to him without thinking about your boyfriend. You climbed onto his lap, turning your back to him to look at Minho sitting watching the show. You rolled your hips, feeling Han's cock harden again as he touched your entrance and rubbed your clit. Minho's eyes were dark and flashing warnings at you, but that only made the adrenaline in your body ignite making you spread your legs and line up his friend's cock in your needy pussy.
You sank slowly, drawing moans from Han as he fit his fingers into your skin, you moaned when you felt his full length, you didn't stop when you thought and you began to bounce looking for your own pleasure accompanied by the tinkling of the bell on your neck. You bit your lips without taking your eyes off Minho as you noticed that he had taken his cock out and started massaging it. Han had his face buried in your neck singing praises about how good you felt.
You continued on your way, feeling your body burn with Han's kisses on your back, his hands playing with your breasts, your eyes focused on Minho holding back from cumming in his hand, the way the toy in your ass tightened with each jump you made and how your walls had squeezed Han's cock feeling it tremble.
“Don't stop, cutie” You closed your eyes following the sensation of pleasure throughout your body, you moaned non-stop until the knot in your stomach was released, letting Han continue mixing his juices with you and Minho dripping his hand with his semen. .**
You collapsed into Han's chest and regained your breath, but Minho immediately stood up, stealing you and carrying your tired body.
“Go clean yourself up, I'll take care of her.” Han didn't dare to look at his friend while he carried your body to the room.
You opened your eyes looking at Minho's face as he placed you on the bed and took off your ears and the collar you were wearing.
“Minho…”
"yes darling?" He asked, stroking your hair.
"are you angry?" Minho smiled and denied, kissing your forehead, he always looked for your happiness and was not angry about what had happened although he was not going to admit that he was a little jealous.
You closed your eyes concentrating on his hands, you sighed as you felt his delicate kisses on your chest slowly moving down your abdomen. He turned you around and caressed your buttocks, resisting the urge to caress the cat tail you still wore. He took it and kissed your back, slowly removing it. You couldn't help but moan at the sensations in your body because of how delicate he was. You were exhausted, but not satisfied, you needed him.
“Min…” you turned your head to look at him and blushed just thinking about what you were about to say “I need you.”
You thought he would tease or make you beg for it, but he just leaned in to kiss you, letting his fingers touch your sensitive pussy. You muffled your moans into his mouth as you felt the length of him passing through your pussy. Minho was also needy for you, he didn't have time to joke or play with you, he just wanted to feel you.
He lifted your hips, plunging his cock into your walls and moaned your name. “Are you still so tight after that?” You took the sheets in your hands as you felt the first push of his hips. Minho didn't stop and started following the rhythm that you both liked.
Your sensitive pussy didn't stop clenching around his cock and Minho could only keep bucking his hips, seeking his release. Your legs shook announcing your arrival making your boyfriend pound faster to reach you but in the end you couldn't hold it back and you came all over his cock, but Minho continued to seek his own pleasure.
“Just a little more kitty” Your entire body contracted, you could no longer stand the sensations and you began to cry when you felt so much pleasure. Minho felt his cock tremble inside you and he lay on your back feeling his cum running down your walls spilling up to your thighs “you did well” You closed your eyes resting finally letting Minho take care of the rest.
When Minho finished cleaning you and taking a shower he went out to the living room to see his friend at the door. Han noticed it and he clenched his fists, forcing himself to apologize.
"where are you going?"
“Home… I… I'm so sorry I shouldn't have insisted on coming here… I won't say a word to anyone, I promise.”
Minho laughed and approached his friend.
“I know you won't say anything, forget what just happened, it was just… a game” Minho dragged his friend back inside and checked the time “stay the night, it's already late.”
"oh really?"
"Of course, you're my friend."
“but… the three of us won't fit in the bed” Minho suddenly became serious and separated from Han.
“you will sleep on the floor”
“Hey, I was just joking.” Han went to hug his friend, trying to forget what happened a few hours ago.
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One Step Away From You (Chapter 2)
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Chapter Summary: It's your first day back at Hawkins High. Your day goes as expected, until you see the face of your ex-best friend, Eddie Munson, at a lunch table with your younger friends. WC: 5.7k Warnings: MDNI. Explicit language used. Descriptions of anxiety, mentions of depression. Notes: I've been dying to post this chapter. I've been waiting to post chapters until I have the next one finished, and it's been harder than expected to not just post them right away. This chapter features time spent with the younger kids, and Steve and Robin, as well as a little flashback. I hope you guys enjoy!
Monday, September 16th, 1985
Your eyes slowly open, taking in the dawn sky peeking through your curtains as the sun begins to rise. Your eyes shift to the clock by your bed, 5 minutes before your alarm goes off. Yawning, your hand falls to rest on your cat Henny, peacefully sleeping against your chest. You smile as you gently pet his soft black fur, enjoying the few moments of peace before you have to get ready. Moments of peace, soon interrupted by anxious thoughts about your first day back at Hawkins High. The repetitive feeling of your cat’s fur against your hand helps to keep your thoughts from spiraling too much. That is until the sudden, loud blaring of your alarm caused him to sprint off the bed in a flash. You snort out a laugh as you quickly turn off your alarm.
Stretching out all your limbs, you climb out of bed with a sigh and head to the bathroom to start your morning routine. You spend a few minutes browsing your wardrobe, deciding on what to wear for your first day outfit. Finally deciding on a pair of your favorite acid wash jeans that hug your curves, a Metallica Ride the Lightning shirt, and your trusty, worn black converse hi-tops. You turn to your vanity, beginning your usual hair and make-up routine. You kept your hair in its natural form, only adding some hairspray to your roots to add some volume. Followed by a smokey eye, winged eyeliner, mascara, and some chapstick. You grab your bag, keys, and a pack of pop-tarts, giving Henny a kiss on his head before heading out the door. 
You start your truck, turning the dial of the radio until you hear the familiar sounds of Hall & Oates. You light a menthol cigarette, a habit picked up from your parents and the stress of the last few years, before backing out of your driveway. You take note of the same unfamiliar van in Uncle Wayne’s driveway as you pull out of the trailer park. As you drive down the road, singing along to Out of Touch, you feel that familiar anxious knot start to form in your stomach as you get closer to the school.
A knot that only grows when you pull into Hawkins High’s parking lot, noting all the cars and students already there. You pull into an open space in the back and park your truck, sighing as you finish your cigarette, eyes roaming among the students lingering around their cars. Starting at a new school was never easy, but starting at a new school after the year had already started was worse. Today marked the 3rd week of the school year. You hope the year was still fresh enough that no one would pay particular attention to a newer face. Who were you kidding, in a town as small as Hawkins? Of course they would notice. You groan before deciding, Fuck it, let’s get this over with. You grab your bag and begin walking toward the school entrance, not letting your eyes linger away from the main doors to meet the ones of your fellow students.
After 3 years, the halls of Hawkins High are still familiar to you, finding your way to the principal’s office easily. You enter, eyes falling onto a middle-aged woman, clad in all purple clothing and accessories as you approach her desk. 
“Hi, uhm-” you cleared your throat, prompting her eyes to lift to meet yours. “It’s my first day. My mom already took care of the paperwork. I’m here to get my locker and class schedule.” You notice the way her eyes look you over, squinting scrutinizingly in the process.
“Name?” she asks, voice monotone as she reaches for a folder of papers in the desk drawer. You give your name, watching as she shuffles through them. Your eyes briefly look around, landing on the door to the Principal’s office. You can’t help rolling your eyes as you notice the plaque on the door, Principal Higgins. Can’t wait to deal with that prick again. You look back to the receptionist as she wordlessly hands over 2 papers with your locker information and your class schedule. Her eyes never look back up to you as she quickly resumes her previous task. Your body shifts awkwardly. 
“Uh, thank you. Have a good one” you politely offer as you turn to leave. Rolling your eyes and muttering “Rude bitch” as you re-enter the halls and head to your first class.
Your first few classes of the day go as expected. Much to your dismay, your presence had caught the eyes and attention of a few of your peers. If it wasn’t for the fact that your presence in their classes is new, your looks would be grabbing their attention regardless. You did your best to be as unbothered as you could, ignoring their gazes and whispers as you focused on the lectures or doodling in your notebook. As you sit in your last class before lunch, you can’t help but feel frustrated at your predicament.
Moving back to Virginia in 10th grade had fucked everything up for you. To say you were devastated after the move is an understatement. You struggled to adjust; switching schools half-way through the school year, leaving behind Eddie, your Dad, and your parents' crumbled marriage. You fell into a depression and didn’t attempt to make new friends or try to pass your classes. By the end of your 10th grade year you’d failed most of your classes, causing you to be held back and having to redo the year over again. If your family had never fallen apart and you’d never moved, you would’ve graduated this past May. 
There’s no point in lingering on it now, it’s done. The best thing you could do now is stay on top of your schoolwork, graduate next May and hopefully go off to college in the Fall to start the rest of your life.
Your eyes shoot up from your notebook as the bell rings, dragging you out of your thoughts. You collect your things, following your peers into the quickly crowding halls. You originally planned to spend your lunch period in the library, setting up your school planner and figuring out assignments you already needed to catch up on. However, your young friend Mike Wheeler on the other hand, insisted that you come and sit with the boys for lunch when you’d called and let them know you were back in Hawkins. 
~
The cafeteria buzzes with its usual chatter, as does the Hellfire table. Eddie, Gareth, Jeff, and Grant discuss the latest DnD campaign, begging Eddie for details of the upcoming one this Friday. Eddie laughs bashfully, denying their requests. Until he notices the newer, younger members of Hellfire completely oblivious to their conversation, and thoroughly engaged in their own. Eddie attempts to filter out the whines of the older members.
“I’m so happy she’s back, I can’t believe it.” Dustin remarks.
“I know! You told her to come sit with us right?” Lucas directs at Mike, who eagerly nods his head in response.
“Yeah, has anyone seen her yet?”
The other two boys shake their heads.
“I could’ve sworn I saw her on my way to 3rd period but I wasn’t sure” Dustin adds.
“Man. It’s nice we’ll actually get to go to school together, at least for this year.” Lucas says, referencing the few years you have on them.
It’s a rapid fire conversation Eddie can barely hear. Just when he’s about to interrupt and ask who the hell they’re talking about,
“Oh wait, there she is!”
Eddie’s eyes follow to where the younger boys’ eyes and small waves are directed toward, eyes landing on you.
Eddie’s movements freeze, breath hitching in his throat as he watches you. It’s like everything moves in slow motion. Your eyes quickly scan the cafeteria, uncertainty sketched across your face. Until your eyes catch the younger boys, and a breathtaking smile spreads across your face that knocks the air right out of his goddamn lungs. You giggle softly as you begin to walk towards them. And all Eddie can do is fucking stare. 
He has to force himself to blink multiple times to make sure he’s not dreaming. It’s really you. What the fuck, it’s you?? He could only watch in disbelief, brain short circuiting. In the nearly 3 years that had passed, you really didn’t look much different at all. You did seem more confident, comfortable in yourself. Your features had matured a bit more too, but you still had that same baby face; pink, chubby cheeks and soft jawline. Only now your hair is a few shades lighter and you’re sporting a nose ring.  Your body had filled out more too, the same body Eddie had practically gawked over seen from his bedroom window yesterday. Now that he has a view from the front, he can’t stop his eyes from fully looking you over. From your gorgeous face, to the faint outline of your plush stomach through your Metallica shirt, to your thick thighs that rubbed against each other as you walked. Eddie was still frozen in place as you finally approach the table, eyes not having met his yet. 
You greet the younger boys with a smile, 
“Hey buds” you exclaim happily. Your arms wrap around Mike and Lucas, giving them both a half hug before rounding the other side of the table to Dustin, ruffling his hair playfully. 
“How’s freshman year treating y’all?” You ask genuinely. You can’t deny that you had worried a bit for them. Freshman year can be rough, especially for a ‘freak’.
“Good”
“Eh”
“Not so bad” Mike shrugs, “the club has helped.” His head gestures to the other, older boys at the rest of the table. 
Your eyes follow, noting the other boys’ eyes are already on you, watching in subtle curiosity. Your eyes land on the boy sitting at the head of the table. Hair long, dark, and wild. An unreadable expression on his face, dark brown eyes boring into yours. 
Eddie. Fuckkkk. 
Your eyes widen slightly, smile faltering as you try to swallow the lump that just lodged itself in your throat. You try your best to put on a genuine smile, only partially effective as an awkward half smile tugs at your lips. 
“Hey, Eddie” you offer with a small nod.
His mind finally snaps out of its daze, reality and resentment setting in. He coughs lightly, clearing his throat as his features and gaze harden.
“Y/N” he offers, voice cold as he snatches his gaze from yours. He resumes eating his pretzels, as if your very presence didn’t just shatter his world as he knew it. 
“You guys know each other?” Lucas asks curiously.
Dustin turns his head to look up at you behind him, eyes widening.
“Wait… Eddie? As in THE Eddie… that taught you DnD?” Dustin asks.
You give him a tight lipped smile as you nod, 
“The one and only.”
You begin to fidget on your feet uncomfortably, stomach turning. 
“I can’t believe I didn’t connect the dots until now.” Dustin breathes out slowly.
“Whoa… you should totally join and play with us!” Mike quickly adds.
Abort mission. Abort mission. Your thoughts scream at you. 
“Oh, that’s alright.” You dismiss him quickly with a smile and small wave of your hand, “Anyway, I just came by to say ‘Hi’ to you guys real quick. I gotta get going.”
You’re greeted with a chorus of groans from the younger boys. You offer a small nod and tight-lipped smile to the older boys. Your eyes briefly glance at Eddie, whose eyes haven’t left his pretzels since first leaving yours. You tell the younger boys you’ll see them later as you begin to walk off towards the exit. Finally releasing a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. A breath that’s quickly catching in your throat again as you hear fast footsteps approaching from behind you and feel a hand on your shoulder. You relax as you turn and see Dustin’s face.
“Hey, wait. So reaalllly quick. Lucas and Mike wanted me to ask if you wouldn’t mind giving us a ride home after school?” 
“Seriously man?” You let out a genuine laugh, caught off guard.
“Oh, come onnn. You remember how much it sucks to ride the bus! Pretty pretty please??” Dustin asks, putting on the best puppy eyes he can manage. You roll your eyes and groan playfully at him.
“Fine, but whoever gets to my truck first gets to sit in the cab with me, the last 2 are stuck in the truck bed” you add. 
If you’re gonna be stuck giving them a ride, you’d at least get some entertainment out of watching them race for the best seat. Dustin salutes you before scurrying back to the Hellfire table as you turn and walk out of the cafeteria as quickly as your legs can take you.
Gareth, Jeff, and Grant share curious, confused, but knowing glances at each other and Eddie. Picking up on the undeniable tension in the air between him and this girl. Feeling their eyes on him, and before Gareth can even open his mouth, Eddie’s hand shoots up to cut him off.
“Don’t.” 
They’d drop it for now, but Eddie knew it was only a matter of time before it was brought up, whether by them or the newer members whom you seemed to know so well. 
~
Shitshitshit! Your thoughts rapidly fly through your head as you hightail it to the library to spend the remainder of your lunch. Eddie’s was the last face you expected to see at school, in Hawkins. Let alone sitting at a table, in a DnD club with your young friends. What the hell is he still doing here anyway? Remember that comforting, hopeful feeling you had? It was long gone now, dissipating at the sight of your old best friend. Crumbling into ashes as your eyes met his, his face even more beautiful than you remembered… and hardened as he saw you. 
You were so confused. Last you knew of Eddie was that he had hooked up with some girl who worked for a record company in LA, recording a demo tape for a record deal back in Spring 84’. At least that’s what you and Eddie’s friend from the trailer park and Corroded Coffin's drummer, Ronnie had relayed to you over the phone. You’d asked her not to give you any more updates about him after that, the news making your stomach drop. When she went off to NYU later that year, you figured the band had just replaced her with a new drummer.
You enter the library and head towards an old spot of yours, a table in the back tucked between bookshelves rarely perused by your peers. Your head falls into your hands as you plop down into a chair, sighing deeply as you attempt to calm your thoughts and breathing. All those thoughts and feelings about Eddie you’d tried to bury over the last few years were now clawing their way out of the grave and overtaking your mind. 
You feebly try to push them down again. You look at the lunch you had packed for yourself. Knowing you couldn’t stomach it right now, you pull out your planner and syllabi from your earlier classes. It only leads to your thoughts of Eddie and your school work hashing it out in your head for your undivided attention. You sigh again, already knowing which will be the winner. Leaning back in your chair, you think about how exactly you got here. How the best friend you’ve ever had could barely make any eye contact with you, and the sight of him made you have a near panic attack.
~
It had been a cloudy day in early December 1982, when you dragged your feet across the road to the Munson trailer. Sprinkles of rain began to fall, soaking into your hair as you dreaded breaking the news to your best friend. You willed away the tears that were already building in your eyes before you could even step onto Uncle Wayne’s porch. A few moments after your weak knocks on the door, it opened to reveal your best friend. His signature cheeky smile plastered on his face, quickly slipping away when he noted the somber look on yours.
“Hey, hey. What’s wrong?” He asked softly, hand reaching for your arm as he stepped out the trailer to join you on the porch. You couldn’t look him in the eyes, you knew as soon as you did you wouldn’t be able to stop the waterfall. 
“I’m leaving, Eddie…” you mutter, voice soft and cracking. 
“Leaving? W-What do you mean?” Eddie asks, confusion seeping through his voice and features. You gulp, trying to calm yourself before you continue. “Is it your dad? Is he giving you guys problems? I told you, you can come to me and Wayne if he-”
“No-No. He’s in the tank for a DUI right now a-and Mom thinks… it’s perfect timing to just get away, put some distance…” you manage to get out. You take a deep breath before willing yourself to look up and finally meet his eyes. “We’re moving back to Virginia.” 
Your eyes search his as yours begin to well with tears. Finally saying the words to him made it real, definite, final. He sighs deeply, a small frown pulling at his lips.
“C’mere…” He whispers, pulling you into his chest as his arms wrap around and squeeze you tightly. His gesture causes your tears to fall freely. You almost feel bad that you’re no doubt soaking his shirt and leaving behind an embarrassing wet spot, but the feeling of his arms around you and the sad, anxious thoughts flying through your mind distract you from it.
“It’s gonna be okay” he says reassuringly, a hand softly rubbing up and down your back.
After a minute he pulls back, hands holding both of your arms as he looks at you with a small smile.
“They have phones back in Virginia, right?” he asks, joking lightly. Anything to lessen the frown and tears streaking your cheeks. You smirk softly in response, nodding your head as you wipe your tears. “Then it’ll be okay. We’ll call a-and talk about school, new records, DnD campaigns… that dick Higgins” A brief, wet laugh escapes your mouth at his words. 
“all the things we talk about now. I promise.” He finishes, moving one of his hands from your arm to extend his pinky finger out to you. A long playful gesture you’ve done since meeting in 4th grade. You take a moment to let his words and optimism sink in. 
You wrap your pinky finger around his, offering back a small smile. “Promise.”
~
The bell signaling the end of the lunch period pulls you out of your memory. You collect your things, taking your place in the halls among your peers as you head toward your next class. Only 3 more periods to get through, that’s it. Just 3. Then you can go home, and dig into your stash for some relief from this whirlwind of a day. You take a deep breath and put on a brave face as you walk into your English class. You’re one of the first students there, quickly grabbing an open seat in the back. Settling in, you pull out your notebook from your bag, facing toward the front of the class just as a patched denim jacket catches your eye. Eddie saunters in, dropping ungracefully into a seat in the back, 2 rows away from you. This can’t be happening. You lace your fingers together, resting your mouth against them as you stare at the board, not daring to let your eyes wander towards the long haired boy.
A soft gasp coming from your right grabs your attention, 
“Hey, I know you! Scoops Ahoy right?” You look over the girl as she takes a seat next to you. She looks familiar, you’d definitely seen her a few times while you were working at Scoops this summer. Donna? Denise? Debbie? You tried remembering the girl's name, knowing Steve had mentioned it at some point.
You clear your throat before answering, “Yeah, mhm. That’s me.”
“Oh my gosh. I still can’t believe what happened with the fire. I mean, a grease fire? From that god awful Hot Dog on a Stick place? Still so crazy to me.” She states, shaking her head in disbelief. You nod softly in response.
“Yeah, tell me about it. Guess they never learned grease and water don’t mix.” You breathe out a soft laugh, “Not an experience I’ll forget anytime soon, that’s for sure.”
“For sure, I bet! Hey, I thought I remembered Steve saying something about you just visiting for the summer… I’m guessing you’re here to stay?” 
You were a little taken aback at how kind she’s being. She seemed nice enough buying ice cream, but holding a full on conversation with you in a classroom was unexpected. By the looks of her, she wouldn’t be considered a ‘freak’ by any means. Not popular, but not an outcast either.
“Yeah that’s right, at least until graduation.” you respond with a soft smile that she quickly returns.
“Cool. Well anyway, I’m glad you guys made it out okay.”
“Thanks, me too” You finish as she settles into her seat, just as Ms. O’Donnel begins to speak at the front of the class.
As you settle back into your own seat, your cheeks warm. He didn’t hear that, did he? You try to pay attention to Ms. O’Donnel as she discusses The Catcher in the Rye when you can feel eyes on you. Taking in your peripheral vision confirms it. Yep, he definitely heard that. Eddie is practically staring daggers at the side of your face before scoffing, shaking his head and looking toward the front of the class. 
It takes every fiber of his being to not storm out of the classroom right in that moment, but he actually wanted to try and graduate this year, so he stays. Leg rapidly bouncing, biting down his already short nails just to attempt to calm the nerves and emotions raging through his body. Seeing you again, then to overhear that you had been visiting Hawkins in the summer this whole time… it’s too much for him to process. He’s hurting, fucking heartbroken actually, but that’s being overshadowed by anger. He knew it. Part of him never wanted to fully admit it to himself, but now he knows it’s true. You had truly abandoned him. He’s never blamed you for moving back to Virginia. That wasn’t your fault. You had no control over it, and he knew that. What he could never understand though, was why a couple months after you’d moved, you stopped calling and returning his calls. He used to go over and over in his head if he had done something, said something wrong and could never think of anything. He had tried not to let himself linger on it for too long and put on a tough front. He had been wrong about you, he’d decided. You were just like all the other people in his life that just hurt and abandoned him. That’s what he had to tell himself to move on and not drive himself crazy. Even if part of him didn’t, wouldn’t believe it. Well now he knows. You’d been visiting in the summers this whole time, and never bothered to tell him or see him? He still doesn’t understand why, but now he knows that he was right.
As soon as the bell rings, Eddie’s the first out of his seat and out of the door. You take a deep breath, wanting nothing more than to crawl in a hole and hide, the undeniable feeling of guilt overtaking you. You know you can’t, however. You’re going to have to tough it out for 2 more periods. Eddie doesn’t even attempt it, immediately walking out to his spot in the woods behind the school to smoke, to try to calm his body and mind so he can at least try to attend his last class of the day. 
Art happens to be his last class of the day, a class that he notices upon entering, is another he has to share with you. If you had known your first day was going to go like this, you would’ve just stayed in bed with Henny all day. You shake your head to yourself, knowing this is something you won’t be able to avoid and run away from for long. Is that something you even want? You tended to avoid conflict and confrontation at all cost… but you love Eddie. You miss Eddie. You know things are the way they are because of you. You have to take responsibility for it. You had known dropping contact with Eddie might hurt him, but you told yourself it probably wouldn’t bother him that much and he’d move on quickly. The insecure part of your brain told you, you probably didn’t mean as much to him as he did to you. Seeing his reaction today at lunch, and in class overhearing of your summer visits he wasn’t included in, tells you you’re dead wrong. What the hell am I going to do? How am I going to fix this?
When the bell rings this time to signal the end of the school day, you’re the first out of your seat and the classroom. Stopping at your locker to collect the last of your things into your bag before heading to the front doors. Stepping outside you take a deep breath of fresh air, digging for your pack of cigarettes and quickly lighting one. You close your eyes as you blow out the smoke, immediately feeling slightly calmer.
Then, just as if the gods have heard your plea for some lightness to this quickly souring day, you spot a familiar BMW pulling into the front of the school. You can’t deny the smile that quickly appears on your face. You put out your cig before Robin inevitably joins, knowing her distaste for it. You stroll over to the car as Steve parks it, already jumping out of the driver's seat to wrap you in a tight hug. You giggle, hugging him back.
“Hey, haircut. Miss me that much already?”
“Hush it, Y/L/N.” Steve quips. A split second later, you hear a rapidly approaching squeal before a body is pushed against your back, effectively putting you in the middle of a human sandwich hug.
“Oh, Y/N! Thank god you’re here. I didn’t know how much more of Steve I could bear on my own!” Robin exclaims exasperatedly, resting her head on top of yours. You let out a belly laugh, enjoying the comfort of their presence and hugs before begging them to let you go. 
“So, how was your first day back?” Steve asks as you both lean back against his car. 
You roll your eyes, sighing as you shake your head. 
“That’s the last thing I wanna talk about right now” When they meet you with concerned, sympathetic looks, you add “It’ll be alright though. I’m just so happy to see you guys, it‘s just what I needed.” You offer them a genuine smile.
Out of the corner of your eye, you spot the familiar curls of Dustin rushing out of the front doors of the school. Eyes quickly scanning the parking lot before landing on you. You point toward your truck in the back of the parking lot. 
“Black truck!” you shout, trying to hold back your laughter as you watch his eyes follow your finger before scurrying across the parking lot.
“Uh, HELLO, Henderson?!” Steve exclaims, arms thrown in the air in disbelief.
“I don’t have time for you right now, Steven!!” Dustin shrieks in response, dodging other student bodies as he races for the best seat. You can’t hold it in anymore at that, throwing your head back in laughter with Robin.
“Jeez. Guess I’m chopped liver, then.” Steve scoffs, shaking his head as he looks back over to you two.
“Oof. That’s rough, bud. How will your fragile ego ever recover?” Robin remarks, rubbing Steve’s arm in fake sympathy.
“Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up.”
You notice Mike and Lucas run out of the school seconds later, playing out the same actions as Henderson. Cursing when they see Dustin’s already ahead of them. 
“Oh, Y/N! You should totally apply to Family Video and work with us!” Robin exclaims excitedly.
“Yeah, it’ll be the three amigos again!” Steve adds, eliciting a groan and eye roll from Robin who lightly pushes him.
“Dingus”
“While I would love nothing more, I already promised my aunt I’d work for her at the restaurant” You respond with a pout. “But, you can definitely count on me coming in to bother y’all on your shifts.” 
They have a shift this afternoon so you part ways, hugging them goodbye with promises to talk later. Steve insists he wants to hear all the details about your day, when you’re ready to share of course. You smile, waving them off as you walk toward your truck. The 3 boys crowding around the passenger door, bickering with each other. 
“Dustin was here first. You two in the back, no arguments!” You state simply as you unlock the doors. As everyone gets settled, you quickly flip through your cassettes, putting in Motorhead’s Overkill album. As you begin to pull out from your parking spot, your eyes briefly land on Eddie. He stands at the front of the school, leaning against a pillar as he smokes a cigarette. Gareth is talking to him, but his eyes are on you. Catching the events of the last few minutes, cozying up with Steve Harrington of all people. You notice Gareth’s eyes follow Eddie’s to yours before you quickly return your focus to getting the hell away from this school. 
When you pull up to a red light, you open the small back window.
“Whose house am I dropping y’all off at?” 
“Mine is fine!” Mike responds, “We’ve got some homework to work on.”
You nod before a thought pops into your head.
“Hey” you turn your head slightly to look at Dustin and the boys in the back, “How is Max doing? I didn’t see her today.”
The boys are quiet for a moment, pondering what to say, causing your eyebrows to furrow in worry.
“She’s uh- she took everything that happened at the mall… Billy… pretty hard.” Mike finally says.
“She doesn’t really hang out with us much anymore. Her and her mom moved into the trailer park actually.” Dustin adds quietly.
“She broke up with me.” Lucas says after a few moments, unable to hide the sadness in his voice.
Your eyes widen in shock for a moment before you fully turn your head back, eyes meeting Lucas.
“I’m really sorry, bud. She probably just needs some time. I’m sure you guys will be able to work things out.” You offer sympathetically, Lucas giving you a soft nod and half-smile in return. 
You sigh, elbow resting on the bottom of your window frame, driving again as the light turns green. You make a mental note to figure out which trailer she’s moved into, keep an eye out for her at school and check in on her. Hearing she’s pulled away from the group and broke up with Lucas worries you, you don’t want her to have to go through this struggle alone.
Dustin breaks the silence a few moments later.
“Sooooo, what’s up with you and Eddie?” you choke out a laugh and shake your head. Real smooth, Dustin. “I mean, from the way you used to talk about him, you two seemed really close. But I picked up on that tension at lunch. Something happened, I know it.” he prods further, like this was a mystery he’s determined to insert himself in and solve.
“Nosey much, Henderson?” you say, side-eyeing him.
“I’m just saying. We’re close with you… and now Eddie is our dungeon master, we’re getting close with him… things could get sticky if there’s some tension there, which I know for a fact there is.”
“Oh is that so?” you retort, feeling relief as you pull into the boys’ neighborhood, knowing there isn’t as much time as Dustin would like to continue pushing you for information. “Dustin, I love ya. But respectfully, it’s none of your damn business, bud.” You finish, scrunching your nose at him teasingly. He puts his hands up defensively, dropping the conversation as you pull up to Mike’s house. You bid them farewell with a smile and wave as they thank you for the ride. 
You might have sped on the drive back to your trailer, just a little bit. You still have a few more hours till your mom gets home, and you want nothing more than the comfort of home and the familiar green plant in your lungs after your day. You don’t spare a glance at the trailer across the street as you pull in, quickly hopping out of the truck and unlocking the front door. You groan in relief as you quickly rid yourself of your bra and jeans, slipping into your comfy house shorts. You grab a blunt you pre-rolled, a lighter, and your portable radio before walking out the back door and sitting on the back steps. You’re grateful your small backyard is obscured from the views of your neighbors by some trees and bushes as you light your blunt. You lean back against the stair railing, listening to the sounds of Fleetwood Mac as you let the calming effects of your weed start to take over. Even as your body and mind calm, a single question repeatedly pushes into your thoughts.
How am I going to fix this?
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wakandas · 2 years
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a light evening Storm. I enjoyed putting this together, pulling from my older redesigns.
The hair is a callback to the Dave Cockrum tiara. Since it's so structured, I dialed back the rest of the look somewhat to avoid an over-designed look. To compensate, I added accessories and fabric textures.
Have a great week!
twitter // insta // website
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winstonsns · 3 months
Note
can you do one where reader and dally have been dating for about a month now and reader finds out that he hooked up with sylvia again and reader goes to bucks to confront him and he's all nonchalant about it like it's not a big deal and reader gets really mad
why do i cry (request)
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pairing: dally x reader
summary: you and dally have been dating for around a month but you find out he hooked up with sylvia, so you go buck’s to confront him
warnings: cheating, smoking, cussing
authors note: im back from camping yay
word count: 1.7k
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as you lay in your bed, you stare up at the ceiling, tapping your fingers against each other as you think. you turn your head, looking at the phone on your nightstand.
you’ve been wanting to call dally, to do anything with him but he’s been busy for weeks. you haven’t heard his voice in more than a week, and you’ve been feeling worried. you trust him, but know he’s been known to get around with other women. you believe it is different this time, that you can see the love in his eyes when he looks at you.
you smile to yourself, picking up the phone and taking it off the stand. you dial your boyfriends number, holding it up to your ear. it rings for a few seconds before you hear a sigh and soft whispers, a woman’s voice, you think, from the other end of the line.
“hey dal, do you think we could go to a diner tonight for—“ you begin to ask, excitement in your voice.
dally’s voice is flat, he interrupts you, “i’m busy, y/n.”
you still have hope, your smile dropping but trying to persuade him, “oh, that’s okay! maybe we can go—“
the phone rings, you look at the phone and ask, “hello? dally?” but you receive no answer. you sigh, placing the phone on the stand and laying back down. you stare at the ceiling, wondering why he hung up, maybe it was an accident.
you think about the other voice with dally, it sounded like a girls voice. there was no way he was with another girl right now, it makes no sense. he’s busy, probably cleaning up his own wounds or something, you wouldn’t know.
you look at the clock on your nightstand, it is around six, you remember the drive in would be open in around an hour. deciding to go to the drive in, you quickly stand up from your bed and walk to your dresser.
opening the drawers, you take some clothes out and accessories from your vanity. you walk to the bathroom, opening the door and taking off your clothes, putting your new outfit on. you look in the mirror, making sure you look okay.
picking up your toothbrush, you wet it and take a tube of toothpaste, putting some on your brush. you brush your teeth for about two minutes before spitting in the sink and rinsing your brush. you place your hand under the water, rinsing out your mouth and spitting once again.
you turn around, checking the time once again and seeing it’s around 6:30. you walk down the stairs to the entrance of your house and picking up your shoes. you put them on, walking back to the kitchen and picking up your keys from the island.
quickly walking back to the entrance of the house, you open the door and walk outside, onto the porch. you close the door behind you and take the keys, locking the door. you walk to your car in the driveway, opening the door and sitting in the drivers seat.
you begin to drive to the drive in, turning the radio on. lesley gore was playing, a favorite song of hers reminds you of you and dally. he always seems annoyed when you play her music, but tolerates it for some reason.
as you pull into the drive in, you park your car and open the door, walking to the concessions building. you begin to take your wallet out when you hear a familiar laugh, along with a girl talking.
you turn your head to see dally and a blonde, a girl with heavy eye-makeup and a cigarette in her hand. his arm is around her shoulder, he kisses her as it begins to turn into a make out session.
you stare as your heart drops, you freeze. sighing, you walk back to your car, opening the door and sitting in the drivers seat. you keep your eyes on the wheel, not yet driving back to your house.
looking down at your lap, you decide you’ll confront him, but he had ruined your night. you put your hands on the wheel and drive back to the bar. the drive to buck’s is silent, the sky gets darker and darker by the minute.
as you arrive at buck’s, you drive to the back of the building so your car can’t be seen. you look at the clock, knowing it would be about an hour before the movie is over. you wait, resting your head on your hand, closing your eyes.
you fall asleep, wanting a break from thinking. you wake up to a loud sound, you move your hand and lay your head on the window, taking a few moments to wake up. you open your eyes, turning your attention to the time, around nine.
you’d slept for around an hour and a half, you remember why you are at buck’s. you open the door to your car, standing up and closing it. you walk to the front of the building, opening the door and walking in.
loud voices and music fill your ears, bright lights shine in your eyes as buck greets you from behind the counter. you greet him back, walking through the bar up to dally’s room. before you enter the door, you sigh, your throat closing up and your eyes begin to tear up.
don’t cry, you think. there is no reason to be sad about someone cheating on you, it’s fine. you ball your fists up, knowing it’s not okay for anyone to act like how dally is. you take a moment for your throat to feel okay again, you blink multiple times before your tears are gone.
knocking on the door, you hear steps coming closer and closer. dally opens the door, staying in the same place but not inviting you in. he stares at you, waiting for you to say something.
you nervously look at him back, his cold eyes on yours. you ask, “can i come in?” he rolls his eyes, replying, “fine, man. make it quick.” as he doesn’t open the door for you, leaving you to do it yourself.
you walk into the room, he seemingly ignores you as you aren’t talking yet. he sits on his bed, taking a cigarette out and lighting it, waiting for you to speak. he looks at you, annoyed, “so? you just gonna stand there and waste my time?”
thinking, you ask, “why were you with sylvia today? i thought you two broke up, but you were kissing her and stuff.”
he rolls his eyes, sighing and not answering your question, “jesus…” and looks away from you.
your eyebrows furrow, you begin to feel warm as you ball your fists up. your voice begins to get louder and louder, “jesus? what the hell dallas, you fucking cheated on me and you know it! how can you act like you didn’t do—“
he yells, his attention now on you, “all you women are the same! how d’ya expect me to stay with you if we never spend time together, man—“
you interrupt him, yelling back, “we never spend time together because you’re fucking cheating on me with other girls, dumbass! i always knew you were messed up but not this messed up! how can you act like this and act like it’s okay, huh?” you move closer to him as he slowly backs up, you continue, “i don’t understand how someone can act as you do, what even is a relationship to you, dally? do you even care, do you even know that kissing other girls is considered cheating? sylvia cheated on you, two times, may i add, and you go back to her? you know, i stayed loyal and i thought we were in love. but ruining a perfectly fine relationship by cheating on me with someone who cheated on you, someone who’s probably with another guy right now, is pathetic. i thought you were smarter than that, dally. you are cold, heartless.”
as dally stares at you, he says nothing as you continue to speak, “you think you’re so tough, but deep down, you’re helpless, dally. you are nothing, people only like you because you can protect them, you think they care about you, but they don’t. and you know that, you feel the same about them. you don’t care.”
he gulps, looking at the floor and looking back at you, a blank stare on his face, you stare at him, this time a cold look on your face. his eyes are now filled with vulnerability, you say, “you have no purpose, dally.”
his eyes slightly widen, enough to notice. you turn around, heading out towards the door of his bedroom. you walk downstairs to the door of the building, out to your car. you drive home, your mind is empty, you hadn’t regret a word you’ve said to him.
dally sits on his bed, staring at the floor. he doesn’t regret kissing sylvia, what he did regret was letting you say those words about him. he begins to think, is what you said true? is he really cold, is he heartless?
he shakes his head, attempting to forget about what you’ve said. he stands up from his bed, walking to the phone connected to his wall. he spins the dial, calling sylvia’s number and placing the phone to his ear.
“hey, babe—“ he says, excited to talk to her. he is interrupted with a deep voice from the other line, “she’s busy. fuck off, man.”
dally hears a beep, the other line has hung up. he stares at the wall, dropping the phone, not bothering to place it back on the stand.
he rubs his hands on his face to the roots of his hair, yelling in anger, “damn it!”
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laiosynth · 2 years
Text
come away, oh ghostly child... (pt 4)
(PT 3 <-) (-> AO3)
Tim strolled down the street towards Dick's apartment. The coffee in his hand was already almost gone, and he was feeling like a sack of shit. He felt like Tom in the one episode of Tom and Jerry where the cat tried and failed at several methods of keeping his eyes open.
He needed Dick to look over his reports for WE, he wasn't entirely confident that he hadn't missed anything.
Pulling out his phone with the hand not clutching coffee like a lifeline, he dialed Dick's home phone for the apartment Babs had said he was staying in while he visited Gotham. After a few rings, Dick picked up.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Dick, it's Tim. I'm headed over to your place, I need to run some WE stuff by you."
"Ooh- this might not be the best time, Tim. I've got a kid with me right now, and he's got a lot of energy."
"I can pick up some stuff for the kid to entertain him for a bit if that helps? I really need your help, nobody else is free right now."
Dick sighs on the other end of the line.
"Alright, that works. Could you pick up some groceries while you're at it? I used up the last of my non-cereal food feeding him this morning. Just the basics- eggs, milk, bread, fruit, etcetera. I'll pay you back."
"Yeah, I can do that. I'll call when I'm done and on my way to yours."
"Thanks a million, Tim. I'll see you later."
With that, there's a click as the line is cut. Tim sighs.
-
Tim stares at the milk cooler in the grocery store. Which kind of milk is best again?
A text conversation with Alfred tells him whole milk is the correct option, so he grabs a gallon.
They're set in the cart next to the other groceries- honey wheat bread, a carton of eggs, and containers of basic fruit. A collection of toys sit in the cart as well- an inflated ball, two dolls- a barbie and a Batman toy- with their accessories, three different stuffed animals, and a book (he has no idea what the kid would like, so he's playing it safe).
He moves out of the milk aisle and towards the checkout. Along the way, he grabs some snacks- fruit snacks, animal crackers, and crackers.
When he reaches the checkout, he pays with Bruce's card- no need to infringe on Dick's savings by making him pay Tim back.
(Tim doesn't need to mention that Bruce had been an asshole recently and Tim doesn't really feel that amenable to being kind to the man.)
He struggles to carry all the bags on his own but manages eventually- most of the bags hang from Tim's elbows.
As he walks back towards Dick's apartment, he pulls his phone out to call Dick again. It takes longer for Dick to answer this time, but he does.
"Tim?"
"Yup, I'm on my way. Just letting you know."
"Sweet. Thanks. Bye!"
And then the line cuts again.
That was hasty.
-
Tim knocks on Dick's apartment door with one grocery-laden arm.
"Come in," comes Dick's muffled answer, accompanied by mad giggling. Tim opens the door to find Dick lying face down on the ground. A black-haired, blue-eyed child giggles as he sits on Dick's back triumphantly.
"Apologies, I would greet you properly, but alas, I've been defeated."
"I see that," Tim says, closing the door behind him and moving across the apartment to set the groceries on the kitchen table. The child giggles madly.
"I gotchu! I gotchu!"
"Yes," Dick says, moving his face off from the ground to lay on his cheek, "But can I have up now? I admitted my defeat, I am an honorable loser."
"Okays, you can have up. Since you're nice about it."
The child slips off Dick's back, and Dick rolls over to his back before sitting up.
"Thank you, Danny. I see you're an honorable warrior."
Danny giggles some more. He seems to be a very happy child.
"Hey, Danny, I'm Tim," Tim greets. "I brought some gifts for you."
Danny runs away from Dick and towards Tim, throwing his little arms around Tim's legs.
"What!? Gifts!?"
Tim laughs and reaches down to ruffle Danny's hair.
"Yeah, buddy. Do you wanna see?"
"Yes!!" Danny practically shrieks, jumping up and down, still clinging to Tim's pants with his little hands. Tim reaches into the bag that the cashier had put the toys in and pulls out the two dolls. Danny does shriek when he sees them, grabbing them out of Tim's hands and moving back so he can spin and jump up and down, shrieking all the way, grin wide on his face.
"I always wanteted one of these!! A doll, a doll!" Danny yells, tearing up. Tim hopes they're happy tears.
"You like 'em?"
"Yesyesyesyesyesyes!!"
Tim laughs and reaches down to ruffle Danny's hair again.
"Do you think I could have a little grown-up talk with Dick while you play with your new dolls? Does that sound fair?"
Danny nods frantically and scrambles away to the living room with his new toys. He gets behind Dick and pushes him towards the kitchen where Tim is.
"Go, go, go!"
Dick laughs and acts like Danny can push him, shuffling where Danny pushes him. When Dick is near Tim, Danny runs away to the living room, Barbie and Batman figure in hand.
Tim turns to Dick.
"So, WE figures- Ready to talk finance?"
-
tags: @basilf1res @ollietheotaku @angelheartgamer @justgray15777 @terzatheunderscorerima @phantom120 @undead-essence @crazydoughnutlady @big-flrda-kys @pheonixdemonqueen @confused-moose-child @the-fandom-hopping-mage @rangerhorsetug @shamelessstudenthideout @nonbinary-disaster @keegan-parker @terrasolstice @eonic @mayoota-blog1 @theonewiththegays @glitchedchaos @nikki-pondtheauthor @allee52hrz @blacksea21090 @crazylittlemunchkin
(been thinking about continuing this on ao3. i have a whole doc for this. can't decide if i want to continue here or on ao3- if i did on ao3, i'd share the link and tag everyone, ofc. i think i'd explore more of danny's time exploring gotham if i made it an ao3 fic as well. thoughts?)
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juuuuunaaaaaooooo · 5 months
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Brio Fic Week 2024 : Fic Rec
Day 1 : Fake Dating
Worth the Risk - ShadowsFiction
Don't Flinch - merelyafigment
Make You Mine - Ronni_Right
Boyfriend - abi1821
A Night to Remember - MichelleElizabethTanner
They thought it was fake... (for only 10 seconds) - Kaaaaarooooo
Day 2 : Surnatural Au
Let's embrace the point of no return - Ronni_Right
Hunger - abi1821
Bergamot and Amber - MichelleElizabethTanner
Blissful Breeze - abi1821
An Immortal Love - Kaaaaarooooo
Day 3 : Write something based on a song or quote that reminds you of them
I Bite (So Do You) - merelyafigment
Fall in You - Kaaaaarooooo
Skin & Bones - abi1821
Dial Tone - ShadowsFiction
SHOTGUN KISSES - badgyalmimi
Day 4 : Brio and each other kids
Picasso - Littleengine
small moments (Chap 6) - Strawmari
Good Reads and Meet Cutes - ShadowsFiction
The joys of being parents-in-law - Kaaaaarooooo
Day 5 : They wear each other's clothes or accessories
Is That My? - ShadowsFiction
Little Thieves - Kaaaaarooooo
Day 6 : They were Neighbors
A new beginning - Kaaaaarooooo
Day 7 :  Movie Or Book Au And Or Activities as a couple
Bring It On - Kaaaaarooooo
We Just Stopped for Cigarettes - JustAnAnon
Day 8 (Bonus Day) : Post Everything You Want
Accidental Phone Sex - Kaaaaarooooo
Second Chances - ShadowsFiction
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xhoess · 6 months
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Fashion and design
Masterlist
Hongjoong!model x fem Bod! Fotographer
Summary: Hongjoong is a model and has his own clothing line, you are his fotographer for the day. When you saw that you got a chance to shoot hongjong you didn't believe it. You have been a fan of his clothing line for a while and are absolutely obsessed with it, but what you don't know is that he has been following your work since that day you started to post your photos.
Genre: romance(?), mature content
Warnings: without protection(wrap it up!!!), hongjoong down bad for you
You where sitting on your bed with your laptop, checking if you have anymore jobs for the next weeks. You see that next week on Wednesday you have a shoot scheduled with the Kim hongjoong. Designer and model. Your jaw drops in shock, why did he chose you to be his photographer, he has never even met you?
You quickly pick up your phone and dial your friends number.
"Jongho you will not believe who I will be shooting next week" "you sound exited, so probably someone famous?" He guesses. "Well yes ofcourse someone famous but I'll give you a hint, he is one of my top 3 designers in the fashion industry right now" you hear jongho think on the other side of the line, "hmm, is it Kim hongjoong?" He asks "YES it's fucking the Kim hongjoong, how did he find me I'm not even that famous I only had a couple professional collaborations" "I don't know y/n but I do know you definitely need to accept this, this is such a huge opportunity" He said "you're right, but I would never in a million years decline this anyway" you laugh.
You and jongho talk for a couple more minutes before you hang up to get ready for bed. But before you get up to wash your face you quickly accept the job offer. You can't wait till next Wednesday.
You were ready to lay in bed but your phone pings, you got an Instagram DM of a online friend you made recently, he was the absolute sweetest and helped you with a few dilemmas. You've told him almost everything that happened in your life the last few months and he's a good listener.
The week goes by very slow but it's finally Wednesday. You grab your stuff and drive to your photo studio. You've never felt so nervous to do a shoot, but it's logical, it's the biggest one yet.
Once the door is unlocked you turn the lights on with the light switch, you always forget how bright that light it's. Especially when it's still dark outside, which is right now because you need to come at least 2 hours early to set everything up.
About 1 pm there was a loud knock on the door, you rushed to the front of the studio to open it. "Hi, come on in, I am y/n l/n I will be your photographer today!" You say kindly, trying not to freak out in the meantime. "Hi y/n, my name is Hongjoong. I am glad you excepted my request, I love your work" He says while bowing slightly to greet you.
"You're kidding, I absolutely love the clothing line you have going on right now. Is it true you design every piece by yourself?" You ask. Hongjoong nods "yes, and I absolutely love doing it. Maybe I do it a bit to much, it causes a lot of stress but at the end it's all worth it" "I'm sure it is" you say.
A few minutes later you showed Hongjoong the dressing room where he could change clothes in private. While he was putting on the first outfit you put on some music, if it's silent you can't function properly.
When he came out of the dressing room you sure you stared a little too long at him "you like it?" He asked, smiling slightly. "I swear it's the best one yet, I love it when there is a lot of accessories in a outfit" you say. "I know" Hongjoong said, you were confused, what does he mean he knows? But you let it slide. You where not gonna let this get awkward. You told him to stand in front of the camera and the rest of the shoot went by quickly.
It was now 3 pm, the shoot was done and hongjoong went back to the dressing room. But he forgot his phone on the table next to the camera. When you picked it up to give it to him you saw a message from yourself on his phone. When i say your heart dropped it was not an understatement. Did you send him a instagram message? You questioned yourself so you went to double check on your own account. But no, the only one you had texted was your online friend. It couldn't possibly be him right?
You knock on his dressing room door and he sticks his head out, "y/n, what's up" "can you explain why you have a text of Me on your phone?" You say. "What? Where you going through my phone" "no you left it on the table next to my camera and I send a text message to what I thought was my online best friend but then your phone pings and I saw my username pop up. So explain, why were you being someone else?" He sighs "Come in please"
Once you've settled on the couch he begins explaining, "look, I can't follow you with my real account, people would've start questioning things and they would've started texting you about me. It was never my intention to Lie to you about it. But I love your work and I just wanted to contact you about it at first" he explained. You get it, you really do but you start to think back to all the conversations you had with him. And you remember one very clearly, last week when you hung op on jongho you texted him saying 'omg I am gonna photograph Hongjoong, now I am gonna see if he's really that hot in real life'
"I texted you ABOUT you, I've said so many stuff about you? I'm so embarrassed" you say and you can feel your cheeks burning. "You are embarrassed? I am the one who should be embarrassed" Hongjoong said, he sits down next to you and tries to make sure you have nothing to be ashamed of.
"But am I as hot as you thought I should be?" You don't answer. "Too shy to say it now, you said worse things about me tho" you looked at him "don't remind me hongjoong" you say, clearly ashamed of what you said. "Yk it's kinds hot when you told what you find hot about me like 3 monts ago, haven't stopped thinking about it since. Oh and the way you send daily vlogs about your day to me is so adorable, it's the highlight of the day. But when you send me that one outfit haul with the black long dress for the party, the one with the split and the cleavage was showing. I would be lying if I didn't get off that night"
"Are you serious?" He nods "yes, you have nothing to be embarrassed about y/n. I'm worse" "you're not worse" you state. While he was talking you where staring at his lips. "What compliments did you like the most then huh?" You say.
"When you said my hands would make a pretty necklace, got my head spinning while thinking about it" He said. "Let's make it happen then" you say.
Hongjoong lips attached to yours, the kiss wasn't so loving, it was rather hungry and messy. He pulled you on his lap and, he groaned in your mouth when you moved your hips downwards. His hand creeps from the back of your neck to the front, he disconnected the kiss and looked at you. You already looked fucked out and he had barely even started.
"Just as pretty as I imagined" He said. "Just shut up and fuck me already" you whined. "I'm taking my time with you" "well I am not taking my time with you" you slid of his lap and sat on your knees in front of the couch, in-between his legs.
You buckled his belt lose and in the process your hand brushed against his hard on, he bit the inside of his mouth to stay silent. His eyes stayed on you the whole time while you were u dressing him. Now he is only left in His underwear.
You get up and sit on his lap again, you connect your lips together and slide your hand from his torso to the waistband of his pants, you slide your hand in his underwear and you wrap your hand around his cock, you can already feel the precum comming put of his tip.
You start stroking your hand up and down, hongjong needs more, he bucks his hips upwards and moans in your mouth.
You get down on your knees again and take of his underwear in the meantime, his cock springs free and your hand is around it again in no time. You lower your head and lick his cock from the bottom to the top, he throws his head back and cursed your name. Once you reach the top you take the tip in your mouth and swirl your tongue around it.
He grabs a fistful of your hair and pushes you down a bit, you give in and start to bob your head up and down in a smooth motion. After a few minutes Hongjoong pulled out of your mouth "I can't hold it any longer and I want to be in you when I cum" He says, out of breath.
He lays you down on the couch and starts to prep you, he wets his fingers by sucking on them and God that looked hot. He first fingers you with two fingers but he soon noticed that you're so wet that he can easily add another one, you moan at the stretch when he adds the third finger.
"I'm ready joong" you manage to get out, and he does not need more consent. "Do you have a condom?" He asks, you shake your head "shit" He curses, "I'm clean" you say, looking at him with big eyes, "me too, you wanna do it without?" You nodded at him.
He hovers above you and lines up, he moves his hips slowly to let you adjust. Once you've adjusted fully he bottoms out slowly just to quickly push his cock back in. He looks at the way your boobs move when he pushes himself back in and decides to grab one of them, gently squeezing it.
"I can't hold it in much longer baby" He whines, you clench around him and he fastens his pace, his hand wraps around your neck and squeezes it, not to hard but hard enough to feel it. "You where right, pretty necklace" He says out of breath.
"I'm cumming" you moan, and a few seconds later you do, while you cum you clench even harder around hongjoongs cock and you moan out his name. That sends him over the edge and cums too. His semen is spilling out of you because it's so much.
Both of you are laying breathlessly on the couch, rethink about what just happened.
I just had fucking sex with Kim hongjoong, was the only thing you could think about.
Leave a like if you liked it!!! X.R
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late-to-the-party-81 · 5 months
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Answer the questions and tag five fanfiction authors you know!
Thank you @metalbvcky. NPT for @mrs-illyrian-baby @doasyoudesireandlive @km-ffluv @labella420
🍓 How did you get into writing fanfiction?
As a teen I was a voracious reader and tried to write my own stuff based on other books I'd read. I also loved ST:TNG and wanted dearly to be in an episode and had lots of the books. I wrote my own ST stories with OC's (gratuitous self inserts), but they never went anywhere. In my late teens I read some Xena fanfic on the internet. But that was it for a great number of years.
At the beginning of 2021 I sat and watched the entirety of the MCU films in chronological order (I'd seen most of them before and was mainly a Thor gal.) I fell down the Stucky rabbithole. Deep. I decided to look up fanfic. AO3 was now a thing! I wrote (a very poor) Stucky fic and here we are, almost 3 years later
🍇How many fandoms have you written in?
As my ST stuff never made it further than my parent's old PC in the days of dial-up, I won't count it.
I've written for MCU, various Chris Evans and Seb Stan Characters and one fic for RWRB. I've been toying with writing a one-off Criminal Minds fic as a gift for a friend.
🍈How many years have you been writing fanfiction?
Three in July since I first published anything on AO3.
🍎Do you read or write more fanfiction?
I try to balance it out. If I have a period of hyperfocus writing I try to then go through a period of reading. I read on both Tumblr and AO3, so try to keep that even as well.
🍌What is one way you've improved as a writer?
Getting betas to pick me up on tense changes, overuse of words and rogue commas. Reading more. Practising. Writing outlines for longer stories so I don't go off-piste.
🍑Do you have any bad habits as a writer?
Getting bored half-way through a long fic, especially if the first few parts haven't had a lot of interaction. Which is why I try to write the whole thing before I start posting.
🍍 What's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?
Engineering courses at MIT and, for a separate fic, Violet wands, including the ways to use them and the differnt types of accessories you can use with them. I even watched a Youtube video.
🍉What's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?
Any comment! Anything that gives me the validation I need!
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🍐What's the most fringe trope/topic you write about?
I wrote a transformation into Tsum-tsum fic that was both cracky and smutty. That's pretty niche.
🥭What is the hardest type of story for you to write?
Action scenes. I loathe them. I'm constantly wondering if they are long enough, and make sense.
🍏What is the easiest type?
Short things that are either PWP or fluffy slices of life.
🍑Where do you do your writing? What platform? When?
Mainly on my elderly laptop on G-Docs, and in every moment I can - normally afterwork before dinner and on Mondays when I don't have work.
🍋What is something you've been too nervous/intimidated to write, but would love to write one day?
There are a few characters and ships I haven't written that I'd like to. And I suppose I'd like to write a proper long, over 100k fic at some point.
🍇 what made you choose your username?
When I made my AO3 account I felt as though that at 40, and only really starting in Fandom in this way, I was late to the party, so that is who I became.
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