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enhafilthandfiction · 1 year

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i love ur fics so much 💗 can I request a fic were ur wearing a revealing outfit and he gets super turned on about and starts to take off ur clothes 🤧

In the Kitchen - Yang Jungwon

Hello Anons!! I decided to kinda add these three together because they would make a perfect fic omg 🤭 jealous, tipsy fwb Jungwon that gets jealous when other men look at your revealing outfit and makes out with you 😍 so I hope y'all don't mind :))

*Also, disclaimer* : Jungwon is now 20 in Korea, so he is an fully grown man adult. Please stop hating on me and my posts, all I'm doing is writing and fulfilling asks willingly. The 'block tumblr' feature exists and you can just block me or just stop babying Jungwon.

If your're not comfortable reading, don't press the 'keep reading" tab

Summary : Your tipsy fwb Jungwon gets jealous when you wear a revealing outfit and decides to teach you who you belong to.

Pairing : Fwb!Jungwon X Fem!Reader

Warnings : Mentions of parties and slight drinking, revealing outfit on reader, friends with benefits, Jungwon being slightly drunk and jealous which leads to him being slightly possessive (kinda), makeouts, grinding, marking, love bites, neck kissing, Jungwon touching reader (but no fingering mentioned).

Word Count : 1123 words

Masterlist

It was already Friday which meant that frat boy's party was today. You were invited of course, your friends dragging you along. You knew Jungwon, your fuck buddy, would be there and you weren't going to hold back tonight, putting on your most revealing outfit, just to tease him.

What you didn't expect though, guys swarming around you, grinding up against you and even groping you too. Their eyes wouldn't leave your barely covered body, a thin piece of clothing covering you up.

You didn't even see him until you went to the kitchen, partly to get away for those pervs and also to get yourself a drink. As you searched for something to drink, you didn't see him in the dim lights, eyeing your figure.

He was resting against one of the counters nonchalantly, waiting for you to notice him. Until you did. He was wearing a black button up shirt along with some dark pants to match. His hair was ruffled, his messy fringe falling over his pretty eyes like always. His eyes had some sort of glint in them. Perhaps they were a little more sharper than usual.

You snapped out of your thoughts when he spoke to you "You should've taken a picture, it would've lasted longer" he says in a tone filled with fake pity, pursing his lips in a thin line. It was his turn to eye you up and down now, having a lot to see since the cloth did nothing to cover you up.

"I like your outfit" he compliments with an annoyed tone "but I should be the only one seeing you in it" he leans closer to you, "isn't that right doll?" Whispering into your ear. You shudder at his sudden closeness, breathing out softly. "Jungwon, we just fuck around that's it" you tried to reply firmly, but your tone wasn't so sure either.

Ever since you and him became friends with benefits, you had placed rules, but the main one was to : never catch feelings for each other. You're just fuck buddies, you're only supposed to fuck around and that's it. "Don't ever think about dating" he had told you, but it was becoming impossible every time you met him, especially with the mixed signs he was sending you way.

He seemed protective of you in some way, like tonight. It's not the first time he had hated the way you flirted with other guys, but he haven't told you anything about it, just to be careful of guys you've just met. Even though what he meant was to not get involved with other guys.

He just wanted you for himself, which was very selfish of him, especially since he was the one to forbid dating at all costs. But today was different. You could see it by just looking into his eyes. Maybe it was the alcohol he had just drank? You didn't know, but he seemed way more confident than before;

His hands immediately found your waist, and as his lips met yours, there was no going back. He pushed you against the counter in a second, his body engulfing you, and his tongue prodding against your lips. You had already got used to this by now, his tongue always found a way to sneak into your mouth, desperately twirling his wet muscle with yours.

As his hands trailed higher to grope your breasts, his knee made it's way between your legs, bucking it up against your core, making you whine out his name. You desperately grinded against his knee, your clit itching for friction, as his hands played with your chest and his mouth massaged against yours.

He pulled his face away from yours and leant down, attaching his lips with your neck. "Jungwon, more" you breathed between kisses as his teeth nip your skin and his tongue runs over the love bite, almost like a sorry.

He sucks your neck until he's marked it, marking you as his. "You're mine Y/n, got it?" he states, his lips returning to your neck. His hands guide your hips harder on his knee, your arousal already wetting you panties.

"Jungwon, please, need more" you whine out of need, making him raise an eyebrow at you. "Such a needy girl, aren't you y/n-ssi?" He shames, twitching his knee for emphasis.

"Who do you belong to huh?" he asks you, stopping his movements and waiting for your answer. "Y-you Jungwon" you reply, wondering what's gotten into him. He did empty a few bottles of soju tonight but this is not the alcohol speaking.

The revealing outfit definitely worked something inside him, arousing him more than he would think. "How about we take this off, huh?" he smiles sweetly at you, showing you his bunny teeth.

"In some dude's kitchen?" You question unbelievably.

"It's fine baby, the door's closed, and besides, if someone walks in, its not like they haven't already seen enough with this little outfit doing little to cover you up" he explains, lingering his fingers on the thin fabric, waiting for your to allow give him the green light.

"Fine" As soon as the word leaves your lips, he's tugging down the clothing covering your lower body, leaving you in just your panties. You're still covered at the top, but that doesn't make you feel less naked.

His hands snake down to your crotch, his fingers rubbing you though the fabric. You moaned in relief when he added a little pressure to your clit, the fabric of your underwear adding to the friction.

His fingers move lower, feeling the wet spot seeping through you underwear. "Fuck, you're really wet for me" he breathes out, a smirk playing on his lips.

His warm hands sneak past the elastic band of your panties, that way he could rub your clit better. "How makes you this wet, huh?" He asks, rubbing quicker and harsher when you don't reply, making you whimper out.

"You! Jungwon, you!" you almost scream out, the pleasure being overwhelming. He smiles gladly and rubs your clit in tighter circles, bringing you to an orgasm in return.

"Ahh, Jungwon, c-cumming" you moan out, your hips twitching as you release around nothing. His finger proudly leave slide out of your underwear, his lips kissing your cheek as you calm down.

He leans down to grab your bottom half of the revealing outfit, dressing you back in it. "From now on, I'm the only one who can see you in slutty fits, yeah?" he confirms, connecting your lips in a chaste kiss.

Just as he's about to pull away, the door swings open, revealing your spent figure and his composed one. He looks at your flushed face "We were just getting out of here"

Hi thankyou for reading this post! I hope it didn't upset anyone and please keep in mind that Jungwon is now an adult. I have been receiving a lot of Jungwon requests lately, so more Jungwon fics on their way!

Thankyou for all the love and support y'all have been showing me, it is honestly over whelming and I appreciate it since it helps motivating me against haters and create new fics for y'all :))

If you enjoyed this post, you can help support my blog by tipping me here! Anything is highly appreciated!

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we-out-here-simping · 8 months

Text

Wasting Time.

(s.h. x gn!reader)

summary: given everything happening in Hawkins, Steve ends up pushing you away too far.

word count: 6k+

warnings/tags: no pronouns used (gender neutral reader); no y/n used; sad; i dont plan on writing a part two to this; s4 stuff; insecure reader; death; loss; injuries; mention of steve's parents; ollie is the real mvp in this tbh; unresolved? yay;

a/n: based off of Lizzy McAlpine’s song, “..what are we?” This was meant to be below 2k. I fought it to keep it below 2k. I lost, immensely and pathetically so. but that's okay.

as for my other stuff, I truly don't know when I'll post it. I've got pretty important things I have going on in life and i really need to do well in a life altering test next year so everything else is on the back burner rn. sorry to those who are really looking forward the next parts but don't u worry I will post them ;)

my masterlist

You shouldn't be at the store alone.

Considering the recent murders in Hawkins. You really, truly shouldn't be alone.

It isn't like you wanted to be. But the owner of the store you worked at did not necessarily give two shits about you. Refusing to pay you if you didn't show up for a few days. So, it isn't like you had much of a choice.

You sat on the rickety old swivel chair, that your asshole boss wouldn't change. The news was playing non-stop in the background– never in your entire life have you had the news channel on for so long.

The new chief of police was being interviewed by the reporters, telling the viewers to stay calm and assuring that they had it all under control. It didn't help to ease your mind.

You were not calm. Not one bit.

With each movement you made, the rusty metal of the chair groaned underneath you.

You were thinking of calling him again.

You rotated a little. The chair screeched again.

Why hadn't he even bothered to call you back yet?

Your leg bounced. The metal creaked.

Frustrated, you abandon the stupid chair with a pathetic scoff. Opting to just sit on the counter, facing away from the door. You gripped the edge of the surface, teeth gnawing at your lips as you looked at his jacket draped atop the chair you were occupying just seconds ago. His jacket.

What if he didn't want you to call him? Your grip tightened.

You haven't heard from your boyfriend since thursday.

You both had planned to go out on friday— the boy hadn't exactly told you where he had planned for you two to go. He had instead told you to, “Wear something cute like you always do. Bring Ollie with you if y’wanna and I'll pick you up from yours at 5?”

You had bought a new outfit, a couple weeks prior. you had put all your last month's salary into it. Your favourite colour.

You did your hair, a little bit of your face as well. Looking in the mirror, you had looked….. nice.

Something about that realisation had conjured up a lump in your throat. It was rare that you considered yourself good looking. Which is probably why you barely ever dressed up. But at that moment, as you looked in the mirror, a smile grew on your face, one that couldn't be contained.

You couldn't wait for Steve to see you.

You were ready before the clock even hit 4:35.

You waited. No sign of him.

When the clock hit 5:15, you went out onto your driveway, your dog, Ollie following behind you. You waited, pacing the concrete.

6:05, you were sitting on the stairs infront of the door, your dog's head on your lap. You waited.

6:45, your shoulders were slumped, your own head rested on your knees. Ollie napping beside you. You waited.

7:27, it was dark, Ollie whined to go back in. your eyes stung a little. But you scratched him behind his ears and decided to wait out just a little more.

When the clock hit 8:00, you finally got up, dusting the dirt and dust off your brand new clothes. Blinking back the salty tears, you quietly went back to your room after giving your dog his food and water. You changed into your ugly PJs, not bothering with anything else, as you buried yourself in your blankets.

Soon, you heard scratching on your bedroom door, your dog waiting to be let in.

You smiled with a sniffle, letting him jump onto the mattress with you despite your mom’s strict rule to not let the dog onto beds, sofas or carpets. the dog whined a little before laying next to you.

Ollie loved Steve. They had not exactly started on the right foot when Ollie almost bit the boy when you had tried sneaking him in one night. But after some time, they both warmed up to each other– to the point where it became common for Ollie to tag along with you and Steve on dates.

“I'm sorry bud”, you stroked the fur on his head, "i know how much you like hanging out with him." He whined again, warm tongue licking your fingers.

You knew he didn't really understand, a dog couldn't understand insecurities and the utter disdain of being stood up by someone you loved. Yet here he was, sharing your sorrows and wordlessly warming up your blues. Not there because he empathised with you or pitied you but there because he loved you.

The next morning when you woke up, you went immediately to your bathroom, to try and clean the mess that you hadn't the previous night.

Your eyes were red and puffy. You did look like someone who cried themself to sleep. You tried to scrub it all off, not even bothering with being gentle with your poor skin.

You didn't feel pretty when you looked in the mirror now. You felt pathetic.

“Honey!” your mom shouted from the kitchen, downstairs.

“Yeah, coming”, you shouted back as loudly as you could– which wasn't very loud at all.

As you climbed down, you were met with Ollie, tail wagging, nails clicking against the floor.

“Would just not take the breakfast from me”, your brother commented, handing you the dog bowl that was filled with Ollie’s food, “What a dramatic son of a bitch.... literally”

The dramatic son of a bitch in question, looked up at the two of you with big round eyes, tongue out, drool spilling out on the floor. You held up a finger, the dog immediately sat down– wagging tail sweeping the floor behind him. You finally put the bowl down and told the dog to dig in.

“Did you make him sleep in the bed again?” your mother spoke from behind her magazine.

“Why would I do that?” you lied as you refilled his water bowl.

“Because when I came to call you for dinner last night, he was sleeping on your bed, with you.”

“Oh”, a sheepish expression over your face, “I'll clean the bedsheets, okay?”

“and why did you skip dinner–”

Your mother thankfully got interrupted by the loud sound of the front door opening, followed by quick footsteps. “Did you check the news?”, your dad panted, he moved towards the tv in the living room, not bothering to take off his running shoes.

“No, dad. It's only you who is boring enough to watch the news”, your brother’s joke landed flat.

“What happened?”, your mother asked, brows furrowed.

“A Hawkins student was found dead.”

The bell above the door rang, you turned to look at the customer and you felt as if your heart had hit a rib.

There was Steve Harrington, bursting in through the doors, wearing clothes you'd never seen him in before.

He wasn't alone. The boy was accompanied by Dustin Henderson, Max Mayfield, Lucas and Erica Sinclair, Robin Buckley, and Nancy Wheeler. Most of them looked to be covered in dust, grime and worse.

They, without looking in your direction, broke into groups of two, one led by the older girls and the other by Steve, moving frantically through the aisles to get what they needed. It must have been an emergency. Considering all the recent happenings, it might be.

After a few minutes, the group led by Nancy and Robin stood infront of the counter and you started billing everything. A couple minutes later, the group led by Steve joined them as well. It is when they are pouring the stuff onto the counter when Steve finally notices that it's you.

His movements stuttered a little as if he'd just remembered that you worked here and he opened his mouth to say something but closed it before anything could come out.

The silence was awkward and deafening– the others definitely noticed. The only sound that came was the beeps of the scanner. You wondered if Steve had told them about the both of you.

When you moved to put everything in a bag, Steve stepped a little closer to help with putting all the stuff into the grocery bags, it is then that you noticed the boy's skin.

The skin which you knew to be soft to the touch was covered in dirt. Slashes and cuts wound around his neck, a piece of dirty cloth peeking from under the hem of his camo shirt. Blood.

You didn't realise you were frozen stuck until you heard him clearing his throat.

You realised that that the boy had already paid the total, the crumbled up cash placed on the counter. The rustling of the grocery bags alerted you that were moving to leave.

“S– Steve?” your voice came out an unsure whisper.

They all stopped. He looked over his shoulder, then back to his friends, “You guys go on”, he said to them, handing the two bags he was holding to Lucas and Dustin, “ I'll be out in a minute” They silently nodded before leaving to get into a van.

You spoke up when the bell above the door rang on the door closing, “Wh– what is happening?”

He stood across from you, on the other side of the counter, not making any efforts to come closer as he normally would– maybe hoping that you wouldn't see the wounds that you had already seen. “Nothing”, he cleared his hoarse throat, “I'm– I'm sorry for friday–”

Sorry? Is that all you get?

“You're covered in blood and dirt”, you pointed out.

“Trust me it just looks worse than it actually is”, he let out a dry chuckle.

“Whose van is that?” your vision flickered to the winnebago parked infront of the store.

“A friend’s.”

“Which one?”

“Munson.”

“Munson? Like Eddie munson? Have you heard the news?--”

“Yeah I have”, his words came out quick, “and it isn't him.”

“How are you so sure?” your eyebrows drew together.

“I just.. “, he paused, “I just am.”

“And how did you get those? '', you said, nodding to his wounded neck. You wanted to touch him, to hold him, but there was still a counter between the two of you, and closing that distance felt.. wrong like you weren't supposed to do it.

“I got in a fight.”

“With what, a barbed wire?” it came out snappier than you had intended. You really tried to not hold his face in your palm.

“No”, his tone grew more frustrated with every question you asked.

“Then who?”

“No, why do you–”

“Cuz I'm– I'm worried about you Steve.” you interrupted to continue your rambling, “You could get like– tetanus or shit–”

“Hey, hey”, for a second you thought he was going to hold your face like you wanted to do to him, instead he placed his palm on your shoulder, “I’m fine, okay? I don't want you to be worried about me.”

“How the hell am I supposed to do that?” you whispered. “I just want you to tell me what's happening.” his hands fell back to his sides. “Just let me in”

“Nothings–”

“No! Something is happening”, you interjected, angry, worried, “Okay? I know. I know you don't always tell me everything. And that's fine, y'know– I thought you’d tell me when you felt like telling me but don't–” you take a quick breath, slowing down your quick words, “Don't– do you not trust me enough to tell me?”

“I do. But there isn't anything to tell you”, he tried his best to shrug while trying not to pull on the scabbing of his bloody torso– he held back a wince, “Nothings happening.”

There’s a beat.

You can tell he’s lying.

“Why didn't you show up on friday then?” you barely give him a couple seconds to answer before continuing, “God, when I heard someone had died that night, I– “ you stopped before he could hear the quiver of your voice, you gulped. “I called you fifteen times”

“I was at work”

“I went there the next morning to check– it was only Keith there. Told me you'd left already." He opened his mouth before closing it up again.

“Why are you lying to me?”

“And what is Nancy doing with you–” you hated that you were jealous, you never wanted to be that person. Hell, you and Nancy were almost friends in high school. But you couldn't lie and say that it didn't hurt to see them together right after he had bailed on you.

“Well if you noticed, it isn't just me and her, y’know. No need to be jealous–”

“Yeah, I will be jealous, okay? I will be jealous if you start hanging out with your ex and start ditching our dates–”

“I didn't ditch you–”

“I waited for three hours steve. You didn't even call me after or give me heads up. And you already know about everything that's happening in town, so I'm sorry I was worried shitless and you didn't even pick up my calls. And now you're with all these people– which is fine– they’re your friends but your ex is a part of these people. And you're bleeding and definitely wounded, and you won't tell me anything.”

“I will tell you okay, I just–”

“So, not now?”

“I'm running a little late–”

“To what?”

“I'll tell you later okay?”

“When?”

“Just later! Okay? I need to go and you're wasting my–”he stopped himself, seemingly having dug himself a hole. He quickly tried to correct himself, “I need to–”

Your heart had surely stopped, “What did you just say? I'm wasting your time?” tears pricked your eyes, “Is that what this is? A waste of time? Is that what the last eight months have been for you?”

“You know I didn't mean it like that”

“Then what did you mean?”

“I didn't– I ….”, he trailed off. The horn beeped and you heard a muffled shout for Steve's name in Dustin's voice.

You sniffled, “are you gonna get those taken care of at the hospital?” you referred to his wounds, your voice was suddenly so much quieter.

“....yeah”, he said after a moment– lying.

You nodded. “You still need to clean it up and”, you picked up rubbing alcohol, a painkiller bottle from the shelf behind you and some bandages, “bandage it.. ‘til you go to the hospital.” you tossed them over to him.

The horn of the winnebago blared. Steve looked back at the door, he reached for his wallet but you stopped him, “you don't need to. It's fine.” Steve heard you sniffle again.

“Baby–”

“For the record… it wasn't a waste of time for me", your voice cracked, “But I'm really sorry if I wasted your time.”

He stepped closer, shaking his head a little but you weren't looking up, eyes trained on the grain of the wooden counter, trying your darndest to not let the tears fall.

“You should go now.”

“honey–” the horn blared.

“Just go, Steve.”

You only dared to look up when you heard the bell above the door ring. Your vision was blurry as you watched the vehicle drive away.

Honestly, you get it. you understand.

You understand if the guy you loved wasn't willing to let you in. And despite how much it hurt, you couldn't keep him to yourself. You weren''t sure what this entire thing meant. Did you just indirectly say that it was over? Did you want it to be over? Were you willing to let it be over? To let him go?

“C’mon”, he stood at your door with expectant eyes.

You scoffed before looking back at the clock— your parents werent coming home until another half an hour, “alright fine”, you gave in.

After you put your shoes on, you reached for the door handle to shut the door behind you but there was Ollie standing right on the threshold, tail wagging. The dog gave a soft ruff, looking up at you with expectant eyes.

“Please don't bring him along too.”

You smirked, “Ollie you wanna come for a walk?”, the boy beside you groaned playfully.

The dog barked happily before spinning around in circles. His nails clicked against the floor as he sprinted to where his leash and jacket were kept. “Alright, bud”, you moved to put Ollie's jacket on him and hooked the leash onto his collar.

The dog walked infront of the two of you. The sun had set and the three of you were walking under the warm yellow pavement lit up by the streetlights. Ollie would stop every now and then to sniff at a bush, tree trunk or lamp post.

“When will he stop third wheeling us?” Steve finally spoke up beside you.

“Never.”

“This was supposed to be a romantic walk in the snow and now he’s pooping and pissing all over the winter wonderland– wont be a white christmas anymore”

“Oh, shut up. You love him, I know it”

“Yeah, whatever”, he shook his head with a smile.

“By the way, to what do I owe the pleasure of a romantic walk?”

“Wha– ? babe, You say as if I'm not romantic”

“No, you are. But I thought you were going to that christmas party with your parents.”

“Yeah that was until my dad started being an asshole after too much egg nog. So, I booked it”, he shrugged nonchalantly.

“Oh, I’m sorry Steve”

“Eh, it's okay– Jesus Christ, Ollie, how much territory are you gonna mark, boy?’

“Steve..”, your fingers reached for his palm. You both stopped, he looked down at where your hands were intertwined before giving it a squeeze.

“I'm okay. Okay?”

You look at him for a bit. Despite wanting to, you dont push further. You squeezed his hand back, “okay.” his shoulders relaxed.

You started walking again, pulling yourself further into the boy's side, resting your cheek on his shoulder. It dawned on you then that you had forgotten to wear any jacket or sweater and now you were freezing.

“I’m cold”, you whined through your smushed cheek, the boy chuckled.

“Of course you are. You don't wear one, but make sure the dog’s wearing a jacket– great priorities babe”

“Well, I have you, don't I?” you said, giving him your biggest puppy eyes and the most over-exaggerated frown.

“Yeah, “ he sighs, handing you the leash he was holding, “you do.” He took off his jacket he was wearing over his his fuzzy sweater and helped you put it on. “Better?” he gestured towards the leash to take it back.

You returned it and nodded with a proud grin, “you've fallen under my trap”

“Yeah? what trap?” he muses while smoothing down the crinkles in his thick sweater.

“This…..”, you smirked, “is mine now”, you declared, pulling the material tighter around you.

“Oh, no! The jacket stealing trap! What will I ever do?” he brought his to both his cheeks, shaking his head in pretence worry. You laughed.

“Y’know…”, he started– the corners of his mouth curling up, “I would give you all my jackets if you…… Kiss me?”

“Oh, yeah? That depends…”, you crossed your arms, “How many jackets do you have?”

“Oh, so many– like a million” he shrugged. Both your steps slowed down to a halt. “Billions….. gazillions”

“Wow, babe, that's a lot of kisses”, you moved in a little closer to him.

The leash in Steve's hand tugs accompanied by Ollie whining, the dog came closer to the two of you who were leaning into each other. The dog started pulling on Steve's jeans.

“Hey! Dickhead, I'm having a moment here”

“Hey! don't call him a dickhead”, you admonished.

“Well, he’s acting like a dickhead.”

You glared at him.

“What? We were about to have a lovely romantic kiss before he so gracefully interrupted”

“Why do you have a rivalry with my dog?”

“He’s my arch nemesis”, he said with narrowed eyes directed towards the puppy.

You playfully rolled your eyes before taking the leash from Steve's hand and walking ahead. You laughed as you said, “Oh, please, you're just jealous because I love him more”

“I’m not jeal– what did you just say?”

“Wh– what?” you stopped in your track before turning around, brows furrowed.

“Oh, you just said something”

“What did I–”

“You said you love him more than you love me. That implies you love me.” he explained, walking closer to you. “You said you love me”, he stated with a shy smile as he stood directly infront of you.

“.. did I?” heat crept up your cheeks.

“Yeap, it was loud and clear. Even Ollie heard it. Right bud?” the dog barked in response as if actually had a clue of what was going on in the conversation.

“Oh, so now youre both working together? You know what? yeah, well, so what? I said it. I love you. You got a problem with that?”

“No… I'm pretty okay with it actually”

“Just okay?”

“More than okay. Perfect. Infact, I love you too.”

A shy smile grew on your features, same on his. The two of you leaned in but stopped mid-way when Ollie ruffed. You groaned, pulling away before saying with a stern voice, “Ollie, sit.”

“Little shit, only listens to you”, the boy infront of you mutters as the dog settled down and sat down. You glared at Steve. “Sorry”, he apologized, his head hanging low.

“Now, where were we?” you pull him in by grabbing a fistful of his fuzzy sweater, your lips slotting against one another. An arm wrapped around your waist, the other helped tilt your head. You too held his face back, the other hand snaking down to his waist where the fingers hooked through the belt loops.

You pulled away when his movements started to become a little faster and his hand started moving lower, “Okay, okay. I… its getting late– my parents are gonna be here soon”, you heaved.

“We were only getting to the good part” he whined through laboured breaths.

“Kissing me wasnt the good part?”

His eyes widened, “I– I mean”, he scoffed when he noticed the sly smirk on your face, “Stop messing with me.”

You tugged lightly on the leash to get Ollies attention who had started to dig a hole in the snow, “c'mon Ollie.” the dog’s tail wagged before he shook the snow off of him. The dog took the lead as the two of you ambled behind him.

Most of the walk back was holding hands silently, looking around at the christmas lights everyone in the neighbourhood had put up. When you were almost two houses away from yours, you spoke up, “you know. You could… stay the night?”

Steve looked at the pavement as the two of you walked, you looked at him with expectant eyes. He sighed before finally answering,“You know what? Sure.”

“But you would have to sneak out through the window later”

“Window? With these joints? I'm old.” he frowned.

“Oh, my poor, poor twenty year old boy”, you frowned back with a mock pitying look as you unlocked the main door and removed Ollie’s leash and jacket.

You and Steve wasted no time after that, running up the stairs to your room. As soon as the door was closed behind you, Steve was on you, plump and slightly cold lips moving fast against yours.

“Well, you're eager aren't you?”

“What? No…” he smiled against your skin, a giggle erupted from your throat as the sensation tickled you.

You were about to go back to attaching your lips to his when you heard a woof followed by the wood of the door scratching. The both of you sighed, foreheads touching.

“That little shit”, Steve huffed, “what an attention whore.”

You laughed through uneven breathing before moving off the door and then letting the dog in.

You heard the door downstairs opening and closing followed by your mother’s voice telling you she was home. You quickly went downstairs telling Steve and Ollie to stay quiet.

The boy took a seat at the edge of the mattress, the dog came to stand infront of him for a bit– tail wagging. The dog hopped on his back legs, front paws scratching at Steve's jeans. Steve reached down to scratch him behind the ears, “y’know Oliver. You're real cute and all. But you're one big cock block”

You really shouldn't have been alone.

It all happened so fast. One moment you were wallowing in your own self pity, the next moment, the lights were flickering and soon the ground started rumbling beneath you.

Now, as you were hiding underneath the counter of the store you worked at, the walls shook and ground rumbled. All you could think of was your family, dog and Steve Harrington.

Of course, the world decides to end today of all days.

There was so much smoke. All you could see was black, maybe your eyes were closed, maybe there was a blackout. But something was on fire– there was so much smoke. Your eyes were watering and your throat burned, coughs uncontrollably tearing from your throat. You felt light headed, soot stuck to your sweaty skin.

You really wanted to go home right about now.

Some rest sounded nice. Maybe some sleep.

You felt yourself succumbing to sleep, eyes drooping on their own accord. Breath slowing down. The corners of your vision went black.

It quieted down for a second. It wasn't too much for a second.

Sleep sounded like the perfect thing.

“Help!” a small terrified voice broke through the silence.

“Help!” it came again from somewhere outside the store. You somehow managed to will your muscles to move. You peeked from under the table and through your watery eyes you saw a boy who looked to be younger than you, flailing his arms in the air, limping.

Your body worked on its own accord. Muscles and bones working on autopilot. You crawled from under the counter, grabbed your water bottle and Steve's jacket. Your movements were jerky as you spilled the water onto the fabric, wetting it before putting it over your nose and mouth– a makeshift mask.

You ran. You left your safety bubble and ran. You ran despite the ash in your lungs, despite the shake of your fingers, lightheadedness, and the lactic acid settling in your tired muscles. In your disorientation and franticness, the stupid rusty chair hit your back, the heavy metal smacked hard against your skin but you still ran. You stumbled to open the door, shouted for him to run and pulled him in. You put your bootleg mask to the boy’s mouth.

The rumbling of the earth had quieted down a little; enough to allow you to help him walk over to the desk– your safe bubble.

You were just about to reach it when another wave hit, the ground shook and both of you lost your footing. The boy huddled to you, you moved to cover him to the best of your ability. The aisle next to you groaned and when you managed to look, it was swaying.

You tried to get away.

“Move!” you shouted, your voice barely audible over the rumble. The boy shook under you. In a last ditch effort, you pushed him away.

You tried to get away, trying to crawl away yourself, but the heavy metal shelves hit your spine. Your head smacked against the tiles.

You heard shouting, you weren't sure if it was the boy or you. Your ears were ringing. your limbs felt like jelly buried under the rubble. And you really didn't feel like you could get up. You couldn't really see anymore, the darkness from the corner of your vision had finally spread.

It hurt. It hurt so much that you weren't sure where it hurt or if it was still hurting. You tasted metal, felt a trickle run down the nape of your neck. You felt a little cold. The boys voice came in and out, none of the words truly registering in your brain.

God, you really missed your bed.

You missed ollie. You wished you could pet him again, give him his favourite treat, help him sneak into a bed again.

You missed your parents and your brother. What wouldn’t you do to have one more dinner together.

You missed steve. How you wished you could go back to that winter evening when you fell asleep in his warm arms. When you’d held his hand. You really wanted to hold his hand, hold him close, kiss him.

You felt fingers wrap around your wrist. “I'm gonna try to pull you out”, you barely heard the young boy say through a lumpy throat, you felt a tug on your arm. Pain shot through you. He pulled again, You didn't move. A scream of pain ripped from your chest.

“No!” you screamed, words coming out all slurred up. “No, stop! Just hide under the table and call the ambulance when it's over!” you still couldn't see.

“But–”

“It's okay! You’ll be okay, Ju-- just go!”

“I'm not– your– you're bleeding”, he gripped your shaking palm, “J– Just stay awake!”

“No, Go!” you tried your best to shout but it came out as only a whimper.

The warmth left your palm, you sighed in relief. You really didn't want a kid to see you dying.

A few seconds later, you felt a pressure on the side of your head, a hit of a familiar scent hit you– Steve's cologne. Steve?

“Steve..?”

The box in your hand was as heavy as lead as the lady led you through the Hawkins high gym which had now been turned into a makeshift infirmary for the people who had been affected by the earthquake.

You didn't remember much from the night of the earthquake, you remember falling and hitting your head, the pain and someone holding your hand. Your delirious brain in its haze had convinced you that it was Steve's warm hand. That he had come back and held you while the ground shook. The carbon monoxide poisoning had truly got to you.

Much to your delusional brain’s dismay, It was when you woke up a day later; your parents told you it had been infact a boy a few years younger than you. You later found out that the young boy– Andy, although overall fine, had broken his leg. He and his family packed everything up and moved out of town a week later.

Your muscles were still sore. The stitches and the bandaging over the big gash on your back was tight around your ribs. You had also acquired a wound on the side of your head and though you had bled, you were lucky enough to not bleed to your death or die of a haemorrhage. The paramedics had to shave off a part of the back of your hair to be able to apply the gauze properly. And you were a little embarrassed about it– you guessed you'd have to shave it all off now. You weren't sure how long you'd be willing to wear your brother old, musky baseball hat– you also weren't sure if it was a good idea to put that abomination anywhere near a wound.

"seems like you have clothes and blankets; that one", she pointed to a table with heaps of clothes piled on top of it. They looked to be freshly donated as they were in the middle of being neatly folded by--

"Steve, take these as well, will ya'?" the women beside you said.

He looked up, stilling for a second, “Hey.”

"oh, you seem to know each other. swell!" she clapped her palms before leaving the two of you alone.

“Hey… I uh– I came to donate these”, you put the cardboard box on the table infront of him, “Its uh– its mostly blankets”

“Oh, okay.”

“I– I have a couple more boxes in the car.”

“Okay.”

The walk to your car was a silent one, a little awkward. Surely, your last interaction playing in his head as well. As you weaved through the people, you noticed Dustin Henderson, limping as he gave water to some of the patients. And you had already noticed the scars on steves neck. You really wanted to ask what happened.

“Is everyone in your family okay?” he spoke up shyly, clearly trying to ease the tension even a bit.

“...yeah,”

My brother can't hear out of his left ear anymore.

“Yeah, everyone…”

My dog died.

“Everyones fine.”

“Are you fine?”

You nodded quickly.

You really didn't want to tell him about the giant bruise spread across your back and torso. You didn't want to tell him about the gash on your back or the bandages hiding under your baseball cap. You certainly did not want to tell him about how you were stuck in that rubble for hours with a kid holding your hand, while you had thought that it had been him in your half-conscious state.

“What about you?” you echoed, “Your– your neck?”

“Yeah, yeah– uh.. I’ll be fine.”

Your chest tightened, you swallowed. How did small talk become so hard?

The two of you approached your car, you popped open the trunk, and there were three more well-taped boxes waiting.

You picked one up. “Here, let me–” he picked up the other two. Both of your tried your best not to wince at the strain. “Wow this is a lot”, a half-minded comment as he slammed the trunk.

“Yeah, um– I mean, these people need it more. Plus, it would just be easier to give it away, anyway since we--”, you cut yourself off, trying to pretend you hadn't said anything.

“What?”

You look away silently, blinking, “um– how are you holding up?”

“Yeah, you have already asked me– I'm– I'm sorry… are you– what do you—” he stopped. You looked anywhere but him. It clicked.

“You…. you're… moving, aren't you?” he murmured slowly and as if saying it too loudly would make it real. You nodded.

“Why?”

“Why? Steve– look around. Everyone is moving. People are dying left and right. People going missing, never being found again?And now what, Murders?! My parents are convinced that it is the end of the world.”

“But it isn't– It was just an earthquake”

“An earthquake does not give you wounds around your neck Steve. Ever since the Byers kid disappeared, my dad has been planning to move… and then that night I– I almost ....”, you trailed off, not wanting to tell him more especially after you had just lied to him that you were fine. “I barely made it.”

“What?”

You took a shaky breath in, Steve's chest tightened. “I should–”

“When are you leaving?”

“.. today. Right now. This was the last thing I had to do.”

After that he quietly walked the rest of the way, helping you put the boxes where they needed to be put. As he did it all, his eyebrows were pulled together, the crease between them deep-- what was he thinking? you wondered.

Once everything was done, he finally spoke up, “Can I walk you back? To your car? For one last time, please?” the desperation in his tone was so clear and it made you want to cry.

You opened the door, Steve's jacket draped over the passenger seat. The piece of clothing that probably saved you. The thick material had stopped you from bleeding to your demise. You really had to thoroughly wash it to get rid of the stain. But you couldn't justify throwing it away.

It no longer had the bloody stain, or the smell of smoke in it. However it also didn't smell like Steve anymore.

“Here–”, you leaned into the car to pull it out, fighting back the tears and the waver in your voice, “your jacket… don't worry I cleaned it up”, you held it up between the two of you.

Steve, pushed the material back in your direction, “Keep it. It's yours, remember? It's yours.”

"Considering everything….” you gulped, “I hope I'm not asking for too much", you took a deep breath before finally whispering, "can I hug you… please?"

It was a tight one. It was a desperate one. You hated that you smelled like antibacterial ointment and sweat. You buried your face deeper into his shirt– he smelled like medical gauze, and medicinal cream accompanied with a faint yet familiar scent of his hair products, his cologne and that distinct scent of Steve.

You pulled away, words sticky in your throat, “Take care. Don't die. I'm…..”, you swallowed, “I'm gonna miss you."

You didn't wait for a response, you quickly sat in your car and drove away, not even stealing a look from the rear-view mirror. You only let the tears fall when you had turned the corner to your home.

It isn't like you had a choice of whether or not you were staying. But You hate that he didn't stop you. You hate that he didn’t call your name, to see your face one last time. You hate you still had his jacket in your hands, you hate how tightly you were gripping it.. You hate that there were tears in your eyes. You hate that there was a sob in your ribs. You hate that you said that you were going to miss him. You hate you imagined a life with him, holding hands on romantic walks.

You hate all that. But you don't hate him. God, it'd be so much easier if you hated him.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x reader angst #stranger things #steve harrington x reader fluff #stranger things 4 #steve harrington x gn!reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington angst

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 2 years

Text

341 days of foreplay

A/N: this used to be my most popular fic on here before I accidentally deleted everything. originally posted back in march/april, was some of the first smut I ever wrote, so keep that in mind, there's probably so many mistakes in this, I haven't edited it. also I changed the title, it used to be called i should've worshipped you sooner (gif in the moodboard is by my love @fightingdragonswithwho )

summary: Spencer overhears his roommate, Y/n, confess her true feelings for him.

warnings: Spencer Reid x reader, smut, roommates, drinking, chess, love confessions, kissing, orgasm denial, alcohol consumption, oral (male and female receiving), impact play, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, fingering, creampie, cumplay, dirty talk, praise, degradation, choking, spit kink, overstimulation, dom Spencer vibes

word count: 3911

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You had been Spencer’s roommate for almost a year now, and for all of that time, you’d been hopelessly in love with him.

You often think that if his work didn’t take him out of state so often, you’d probably come clean about your feelings much sooner.

It was Friday night, and Spencer still hadn’t come home yet, from California you think you remember him texting you a few days ago? So here you were, in the kitchen, trying to open a bottle of wine.

“You really shouldn’t mix wine and beer”, your friend’s voice boomed from your phone.

“Well, what do you want me to do, Eleanor? Just stop drinking after 2 beers?” you mocked, struggling with the cork. “This is not a 2 beers kind of day, so yeah, I’m switching to wine since it’s the only option that I have here. It’s that or stop, which is just, no.”

Even through the screen, Eleanor gave you her best disappointed parent expression and it stung. How had she perfected that? Shaking her head, she sighed, “you really need to move out.”

Popping the wine bottle open, you pointed the corkscrew at her, “don’t,” you warned, “I don’t wanna hear about it!”

“You can’t keep living with someone that you are head over heals for! Either tell him or move out and move on.”

“Or I could just keep drinking alone on a Friday night, and then go snooping through his things.” You raised the bottle up to cheers the screen, then took a large swig of it.

“What, your gonna become an alcoholic?”

“Hey, don’t judge my coping mechanisms little miss ‘I spent 3 months' wages in 1 minute after getting dumped by Sandra’. And who was so kind as to support you and lend you some money in order to get by, oh yeah that’s right, me, your oldest friend.”

She took a deep sigh, “fine. What are we drinking?”, then you saw her pick up her phone and move to her kitchen.

“Yes!” you squealed, “I promise, I won’t even mention him the entire evening.”

“It's just like, when he talks with his hands, which is always, which is also always because he always rambles, they are just so, urgghhh” you slurred, and bent over the kitchen counter in order to get closer to the screen, because your vision wasn’t the best at the moment. “pretty. But also like, I want to feel them everywhere on, and inside me. And the veins, oh fuck…”

Eleanor was totally spacing out on her end of the line, so you just continued. “like the other day, he got home and was soooo mad, like only once in a blue moon mad. And I know that it’s kinda wrong of me to just be lusting after him in such a tough moment for him, but damn!”, taking another gulp of your now much lighter bottle. “He just looked, god, so good.” You almost moaned. “His delicious forehead vein was popping out, fuck I just wanna lick it. Like, he gets so petty, but in the hottest way! Fucking, just bend me over right then and there, and go at it for hours!” you carelessly set the bottle down on the counter, “I’d let him do anything he’d want! and I’m talking like some Erika Lust shit. Choke me, slap me, say open up and I’ll happily let him spit in my mouth”

“God, you need to get laid,” Eleanor complained.

“I know, but I only want him. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to even think about anyone else in that way,” you admitted.

“Aw, babes, you will”, she said with a sad smile, then looked up to the side “oh, it’s 1:05, I’m sorry, I really need to go to bed, but we’ll talk more tomorrow?”

“Yeah, sleep well” you sighed.

“And hey, don’t go fall asleep in his bed!” she quickly added before ending the call.

“That was one time!” you said to now no one.

Feeling slightly dizzy from the alcohol in your system, you leaned your head against the cool countertop.

Hearing the sink turn on behind you, you whipped around, startled to find the aforementioned Spencer standing there, filling the kettle with water.

“Jesus Christ! Spencer, what are you doing here?” you screeched.

Breathing out a small chuckle, “as far as I’m aware, Y/n, I live here.”

“Yeah, I know that, I mean what are you doing home?”

Setting down the now filled kettle in its holder to boil, he turned to you, “the case ended, ergo I’m home now. That’s how it works, Y/n.”

He kept on saying your name, making you shutter at the way it sounded. “You just usually give a heads-up first”.

He sighed, clearly not in the mood for this conversation, “yeah, well I didn’t.”

Maybe it had been a tough case? God, if he kept up this mood for any longer, your ovaries were going to explode.

Suddenly remembering the topic of the convocation you just had with Eleanor, your eyes widened, “ho-how long have you been home?”

“Why?” he said with a tiny smirk.

“Oh, no, I just, I didn’t hear the door or anything” you trailed off.

“Well, you were pretty loud, so it makes sense.”

“I-“ fuck, your heartbeat was raising, “um, did you hear?”

Narrowing his eyes, looking you up and down, taking in your nervousness, “would you really let me do anything I’d want?”

You let out a shaky breath.

“Because, Y/n,” he moved closer to you, ”there are so many things I wanna do to you.”

Not truly believing his words, you asked, “you do?”

Choosing not to answer with words, he grabbed your face and kissed you fiercely, letting his tongue dance across yours. Humming into it, the combo of the feeling of the kiss mixed with the alcohol made the world spin, so you clutched onto his forearms for support.

Abruptly pulling away, he studied your eyes, “you’re drunk.”

“Guilty as charged!” you beamed, moving your hands down his body.

Catching them before they could touch what they desired, “no.”

“What? If you don’t want to, then why did you just kiss me?” the words rushed out of you.

Chuckling lightly, he held your hands in his, “trust me, I do.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I really like you. I’ve known it for a while.”

“You do?” you smiled as you moved to kiss him again, but he turned his head before your lips could meet.

“But your drunk.”

“So what?”

“Y/n, I can’t with good conscience just bend you over and fuck you in the kitchen when you are drunk.”

Letting go of him, you leaned back against the cold slab and spread your legs a bit, “you could though, I want you to”, grabbing ahold of his hand, you moved it between your legs, “I’m yours if you want me.”

Growling, he closed his eyes.

“Please” you whispered, grinding into his hand, trying to find some form of relief.

Snapping his eyes open, his hand started to move, just a bit, moving up and down over your covered pussy. “Is this what you want?”

Shuttering, you replied, “yes.”

With a smirk, his hand moved inside of your pants, cursing under his breath when he felt just how wet you were, “is this all for me?”

Lips now slightly parted, you nodded hard.

Using two fingers, he pressed hard down on your clit, drawing tight circles. Bending down to kiss along your jaw and down your neck he asked amidst the kisses, “do you really want me to choke you,-“ kiss, “slap you-“ kiss, “and spit in your pretty little mouth?”

All you could do was hum in affirmation.

“I had no idea that you were such a dirty little whore.”

“I just- really really like you,” you choked out, hips moving of their own accord, trying to aid in the goal.

Coming up to look at your face, “good, because I really really like you too”.

A combination of his sweet words, how good he was a finding the exact right place and pressure on you, as well as just the anticipation of it all making everything heightened and so much more intense, you felt yourself getting dangerously close to cuming.

“Oh fuck, Spencer, I’m-” you moaned, clutching onto his shirt.

But then, he removed his hand.

“No, no, no, no, no-“ you breathed, trying to catch it and guide it back to your center, but he wouldn’t let you. “I was so close.”

“I know.”

“Then why did you stop?”

“Because like I said, I’m not going to fuck you when you’re drunk.” His sentence was emphasized by the click of the kettle being done boiling.

“But-“ you tried to argue, but he cut you off.

“I want the first time you cum with me to be on my cock. I wanna feel it.” He explained, then turned to grab two mugs out of a cupboard.

Standing there, slightly stunned, you tried to decipher what the next move could be. The alcohol made it virtually impossible to think of anything other than getting railed by him, so you just sat up on the counter, catching your breath and watching him brew the coffee.

After a minute, you asked quietly, “so, we just go to sleep now?”

Filling the last mug, “no”, he turned and lifted you off from where you were sitting and back to a standing position, “we are going to wait.”

“Wait?” you questioned.

Grabbing one of the mugs, he handed it to you and confirmed, “yeah. How many drinks did you have?”

Scrunching your face up, you tried to remember, “um, 3, no 4, maybe?”

Licking his lips he said, “okay. Come with me.”

Hopping after his long strides, he stopped at his chess table and sat down, motioning with his hand for you to follow suit.

“We are going to sit here until you sober up.”

“Playing chess? Of course, that would be your definition of foreplay.” You teased, but ungracefully sat down as well.

Moving your rook forward four spaces, you asked, “is this even entertaining for you? You keep on beating me in like 5 moves.”

One step ahead of you, he quickly moved his bishop and snatched up your last surviving knight. Then turning his big brown eyes to look at you, “oh trust me, this is very entertaining for me. Might be some of the best games I’ve ever played.”

Cocking your head to the side you almost laughed, “um, no. I know I’m not a very good chess player, I know the rules and there forth can somewhat follow along, but I am nowhere near skilled enough to be an entertaining chess partner to you, dr. Reid.”

“Who said that your chess skills had anything to do with it?”

Giggling lightly, you moved a pawn and muttered, “oh.”

It was his turn again, but this time he didn’t move a piece, but simply asked you, “are you still drunk?”

Your body tensed at what the question really meant.

“I don’t think so,” you said honestly, then deciding to joke a bit, “why, do you want me to walk in a straight line? Touch my finger to my nose?” already doing the last movement in front of him.

Smiling, he asked, “do you still want to?”

Stopping your movements, you replied completely serious, “I don’t know how that’s even a question.”

He raised his eyebrows at you, waiting for the right words.

“Yes Spencer, I still want to.” Rubbing your thighs together at the building sensation that never quite disappeared from earlier.

His eyes were glued on you as you lowered your body to the floor, kneeling in front of him, slowly running your hands up his legs.

Reaching a hand down to your cheek, he slipped his thump inside your mouth, completely entranced, it came out as almost a whisper “show me.”

The way he looked down at you made your pussy throb. Hollowing your cheeks and swirling your tongue around his finger, you watched him work at his belt.

“Be a good girl and show me.” Taking his finger back with a pop, then used both of his hands to free his cock.

The sight made you smile. Of course, even his dick was pretty.

“Open your mouth, Y/n,” and without another thought, you opened up and stuck your tongue out. Your eyes were big and doe-like, in awe of how he looked, sitting in front of you, working himself a couple of times.

Tapping the weight against your wet tongue, he groaned, “lick it”, and so you did, slowly a few times, just on the tip, then moving your head slightly to the side so you could trace his veins all the way down to the bottom, all the while keeping your eyes locked on his.

Moving your hand up to grasp the base, stroking it lightly as you came back to the tip, swirling your tongue around it a few times before pushing it past your lips. Slowly taking him further and further in, his hands were tangled in your hair, pulling at the roots whenever you would move your tongue just right.

Letting him move your head for you, picking the pace, how far down you would go down and how long he would hold you there, enjoying the sound of you gagging.

After a bit, moaning, he pulled you off his now glistening cock, “I’m not gonna last if you keep that up”.

Proud of yourself, you beamed up at him, whipping your mouth and chin with the back of your hand.

Pulling you up to him, he kissed you. Moaning into it, his hands went straight to your tits, palming them softly and then whispered against your lips, “take it off, slowly”.

Pushing yourself off him, you backed up a few steps, giving him a good view. Gradually, layer by layer you striped for him, turning when you got to your pants, in order to give him the best angle. Unconsciously, he mirrored your actions, taking his own off.

When you were both completely naked, his dark eyes drank you in, “get on the couch, ass up, now.”

Your body did as he wished by its own accord. Leaning over the back of his brown leather couch, you waited eagerly for him to get closer to you, and when he did, you grinded into the feeling of his body pressed up against yours.

Running his fingers lightly through your folds, “mhm, you’re fucking soaked.”

“Please don’t tease me anymore,” you wiggled against him, “I want you inside of me, now.”

“Oh really?” he cooed, then landed a small slap on your pussy, surprising and hard enough to make you jump a bit, “you want it that bad? Do you just wanna be my pretty little whore?”

“Please, ruin me” you whined, as you felt the head of his cock brush against your entrance.

“Wait,” he said, panic suddenly filling his voice, “I don’t have a condom.”

As he began to pull away, you wouldn’t let him, “I don’t care, please just give it to me, please Spencer.”

“You serious?”

“I’m clean, please do it. I’ll just get plan b tomorrow”, you begged.

And without any more warning, he slammed the entirety of his dick inside of you, making you lose your breath and almost turn into putty in his arms.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groaned into your ear, then distanced himself from you by pushing you further into the couch and straightening up himself. Gripping onto your hips, he didn’t give you a moment to get use to the feeling of how much he stretched you out, but opting for a brutal pace. The snapping of his hips made your body jump in the best way.

As he slapped your ass, you only got that much closer to cuming. His arms went around your waist and pulled you up against him. One firmly staying there, holding you close to his warm body, the other snaked its way up your body, staying at your boobs just long enough to pinch one nipple, then finding a home softly wrapped around your neck.

His face was right beside yours, occasionally placing a sloppy kiss on your cheek, neck or shoulder. Feeling you clench around him, he asked amidst his grunts and moans, “you gonna be a good girl and cum for me, Y/n?”

When you didn’t reply, too wrapped up in the feeling of it all, he taped your cheek lightly, “huh? Are you gonna cum on my dick?”

Seeing stars now, you had no way of getting out actual words, and when his hand came down on your cheek again, this time a little harder, you gathered just enough strength to nod lightly.

“atta girl, let me feel you,” he cooed in your ear and returned his hand to his resting place around your neck. Your eyes struggled to stay open as the orgasm rocked through you.

Legs shaking and trying to catch your breath, his trusts slowed down. Your head lolled back against his shoulder, and he kissed your cheek. “fuck, just when I thought you couldn’t get more beautiful.”

Smiling you reached your hand up to the side of his face, “let’s move this to your bed, I think I need to lay down”, you breathed out.

“Done already?” he asked in a joking tone.

Laughing lightly, you winched at the feeling it gave, making your sensitive walls clench around him, “no, I just don’t wanna fall.”

And with another peck on your cheek, he pulled out of you, but still held you close as you moved the short distance to his bed.

When you hit the mattress, you pulled him with you, letting him fall on top of you. Gasping as he slipped inside of you again, the feeling already starting to feel like home.

“Oh, you’re taking my cock so well” he moaned, finding a good rhythm, picking the one that made your boobs jiggle the most. “God, I love your tits,” he thought out loud, playing with them, making you giggle a bit at the compliment.

Craving the same sensation from before, you requested, “choke me.” He didn’t hesitate, wrapping his long fingers around your throat again, squeezing lightly at the points where your rapid heartbeat was easiest to feel.

Your eyes were locked on each other’s, giving you a great chance to study just how blown his pupils were. Moving his big hand up, so that his thumb could rest on your bottom lip, “open” he breathed out. When you did as you were told, sticking your tongue out just enough for it to brush against his finger, his lips curled up into a proud smirk. The sensation of his spit landing on your tongue first surprised you, then did something you were not expecting it to do. You came again. Right then and there, the intimacy of the act being enough for you.

His smile only grew at the obvious signs of the power he had over you.

Then you blinked and he wasn’t above you anymore. But what he did next was enough for you to know exactly where he was. Your head shot down with a wince, to see him place sloppy kisses on your very sensitive clit. Reaching a hand down, you pulled him away, the sensation being too much.

Head between your legs, he looked up at you, eyes sparkling, kissing your inner thigh, and muttering, “sorry, I just had to kiss you there”.

Placing your hand on his cheek, you stroked your thump up and down, then up to trace the angry vein on the side of his forehead, “just give me a second”.

Smiling, he leaned his head against your soft thigh, then turned his face to place a peck on the palm of your hand.

“mhm, okay”, you hummed after a few minutes. Spencer then sat up, pulling your tired body with him. You slumped down in his lap, like a koala, hugging your arms around him, nuzzling as close as you could.

“You ready, Y/n?”

You hummed in reply, reaching one of your hands down to slip his dick inside of you again.

This time, you both just found a lazy and intimate rocking motion, not needing it to be hard and fast, but slow in order to make it last as long as possible.

“fuck, I’m so close” he practically whined, “where so you want it?”

Through a string of breathy moans, you uttered one syllable, “-in- “, pulling back just enough for him to see the seriousness on your face.

“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he smirked, “We already live together, you want us to start a family?” his teasing only made your walls tighten their grip around him.

His movements became more ragged and desperate, “you’re just a little cumslut, aren’t you? You want me to fill you up?” whimpering in response, you buried your face in the crook of his neck and held on tight as he pushed you over another euphoric high.

Grunting in your ear at the feeling of you milking him, you heard, “take it, all of it”, as he throbbed deep inside of you, filling you with his cum.

Staying like that, all tangled up and breathing heavy, for who knows how long. At some point, clutching onto you, he lowered you both down to lie on the soft mattress.

Expecting him to stay and cuddle you, he instead sat back up and leaned back to admire the mess he had made. Stroking your thigh, he breathed out, “be a good girl and spread your legs for me.”

Slowly, you pushed your knees up and spread your legs apart, hearing him curse underneath his breath. Your body jumped when you felt his fingers trace your slit, gathering up the cum that had begun to drip out of you. Crying out suddenly as he plunged in two of his fingers, hips buckling, the sensation being too much for your overstimulated cunt.

“Uh, don’t get so whiny on me right now,” he cooed, looking down at you with dark eyes. He hooked his fingers and moved them furiously, “you said you wanted to cum? Now take it!”

Even when your hips tried to move away, his fingers followed. Soon the feeling of everything being too much got another thing added onto it. How could you possibly cum again? But somehow, you did just that. Spencer always had a way of making impossible things be possible.

Your whole body was shaking and quivering as Spencer laid down next to you and wrapped his arms around you. “Holy shit,” you said among your shaky breaths.

“Well, we did have 341 days of foreplay”, he joked.

“Yeah”, you laughed, brushing your hand up and down his arm. “Hey, Spence?”

“Mhm?” he hummed into your hair.

Taking a deep breath, gathering the courage, you confessed quietly, “I love you.”

His hand came to lift your face up to meet his, touching his forehead against yours, “Y/n, I love you too, so much.”

Tilting your head up a bit, you kissed his forehead, then curled back down under his chin and fell asleep in that warm cocoon of love that was your roommate Spencer Reid.

#lea’s writing #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid hc #criminal minds smut

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all-you-need-is-paul-mccartney · 2 months

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Baby It's You (Teen!John Lennon x Teen!Female!Reader)

A/N: Hello! Yes, I'm alive, and yes, I know I haven't posted anything original on this blog in over 3 years, but that's gonna change!

Thank you all for sticking around so long, my life did a 180 about a month or so ago and now I can get back to one of the things I love doing most: giving you all some juicy fanfiction to enjoy!

I've had an influx of enthusiastic followers and readers on my last oneshot ask for more writing, and I will be delivering! I have upcoming Paul and George oneshots underway; but first, I think it's time we show John a little love!

P.S. we'll probably consider this an AU fic since John went to private school, and he is going to school with the reader in this one. Sorry for the lack of authenticity in advance!

Summary: Your friend, John, invites you to the first Fair of the year with the intentions of evolving some spontaneous behaviour within you. You find just the thing there to prove to John just how daring and fun you could be-- and then things go sideways.

WARNINGS: This has been sitting in my notes FOREVER so I wouldn't be surprised if there were typos.

Also, there is a heteronormative behaviour in this fic because of the time it was set in, but I want to disclaim that LOVE IS LOVE and I, in no way, support heteronormative/ anti LGBTQ+ behaviour. Love who you want to love; just be happy doing so<3

Also Also, she is a LONG one like the other oneshot, so I advise you read this when you've got some time on your hands!

Swearing is almost a certainty at this point, but no really mature themes, so a T rating is probably enough for this one.

It was a hot Friday afternoon, at the very end of the school year; and there were hundreds of telltale signs:

The teacher was well over his curriculum and he sat at his desk reading a book in silence, student-made work was no longer strewn about on the walls, the classroom was humid even with everyone fanning themselves and each other; and the students...

You could tell the students were just dying to get home for the summer.

There were five minutes left on the clock, and you sat at your desk packing your things away. You spent the last hour doodling, but you wanted to be ready to take off as soon as the bell sounded.

As you zipped your bag up, you saw a little flash of white in your peripheral, and when you glanced back at the surface of your desk, you noticed a folded piece of paper-- a note!

You looked around briefly, but no one indicated to you where to pass it, so it had to have been for you.

And if the note was for you, then there was only one person it could have been from.

You unraveled the little piece of paper, revealing the question the paper possessed.

"Fair? Tonight? -yours truly"

That evening in particular, the local fair was going to erect itself in the biggest park in town, and everyone at school was going to be there. What better way to blow off steam at the end of a long year of hard work?

You shook your head at his pathetic complimentary close, your eyes rolling to the back of your head so far they almost didn't come back.

The bell rang, and before you could even consider doing anything else with the note, everyone took off out the door, as did you, knowing fully well "yours truly" was going to be waiting for you at your locker.

As you rounded the corner to the hallway your locker was in, you finally caught glimpse of him. He was leaning against it with his arms crossed, one leg over the other as his eyes wandered the other students for your face; and when your eyes locked, his expressionless mouth couldn't help but tighten upwards.

Perhaps his smile was out of kindness, but it was most likely because he was a jokester, and quite frankly couldn't get enough of teasing you.

And now his target was spotted.

He opened his mouth to speak, but you spoke first. "You know how much I hate how you sign these off, right?"

You presented the note in hand adjacent to your head as your face displayed a disapproving cringe, cheeks pink in mild humiliation.

"John, I only ever get notes written from you, so the flowery signoff is unnecessary," you put the note down, pointing at him with a frown.

"That note-passing was so open! You know if the teacher ever caught something like that, he'd make me read it out loud to the class, surely you know I'd die on the spot, and then my ghost will haunt you until you died too!"

His smile only grew wider at your words, almost as if he'd been betting with himself what your response to all of this was going to be.

"Also, you're not even in my last class," you rambled on, "so how you managed to have it smuggled in beats me."

"Oh, come on, y/n, you know you'd love all the attention you'd get out of something like that," he gestured to the paper, and you shook your head before crumpling it into a ball in your hand and tossing it at his head, to which it bounced off, and then was immediately trampled on as other students hurried down the hallway.

The both of you weren't strangers; you frequented playdates with John as children, and then you went to school together, so you basically watched each other grow up. John, for as long as you'd known him, usually displayed confident and sometimes mischievous behaviour towards others that typically you'd find unappealing for a man to display.

"People thinking I'm with you? That is not the kind of attention I'm after."

Not that you ever found John appealing, in any way. He was your buddy; you tolerated his behaviour. That being said, over the years he started lightening up on the harsher jokes with you, opting for more of a platonic flirt more than anything else, finding it was a less harmless way to poke fun at you.

"And the Fair, John? Really?"

The boy shrugged his hands up to defend his suggestion. "What's so bad about the Fair?!"

You rolled your combination into your locker, and he shifted out of the way so you could get into it better once you got it unlocked.

"Nothing's wrong with going to the Fair. Going to the Fair with you on the other hand..." you tisked at him before reaching into your locker to retrieve what binders and books you had left in there. John never used his locker, so he was just waiting on you.

You tossed your bag up over your shoulder once you shoved your books inside, and before John could interject with an if, and, or but, you put your hand up to silence him.

"You left me lost in that fun house--"

"But that was literally ten ago, y/n!"

"Doesn't mean I'm over it!"

You took the lead towards the exit doors, and John followed suit, searching for the right words to convince you to go with him.

"If you go with me tonight, I'll try to win you a stuffed animal,"

"We're doing bribery now, are we?" You smirked, reaching out for the doors and pushing through until both you and John were outside, standing under the sun. It was nice for once for the sun to have been out from behind the clouds.

"Look, you're just always hanging out with your girlies, and I've got my mates, but they're all going to the fair with other people tonight," John started as you both headed to the sidewalk and began to make your way to your place.

"We never really do spontaneous things anymore, just you and I. And, I don't know, growing up a little might have had something to do with it... but it doesn't mean I'm not still your friend, though. I wanna do things with you."

You took John's words into consideration. One thing you really liked about John was that he was passionate, and poetic. You'd seen this reflected in some of his writing before, and he often discussed with you how much he liked music, and how he dreamed that his poems could very well one day soon become songs...

Now, it's not like he spoke the way he wrote, but his thoughts translated to words so quickly and effortlessly, and he, as a speaker, really made you think twice about what he said because he sounded so sure when he spoke.

"... I suppose we have been distant in terms of having fun. I know I won't be able to win an argument with you that studying every other night together is considered 'fun', even though I think otherwise."

You and John both rounded left down the next street, which happened to be where you lived; the benefits of living a block away from school. Your house was coming up, meaning this conversation had to end soon.

"Y/n, of the two of us, it's you who needs to be more spontaneous. Just say yes and come with me tonight."

At this point, you and John had slowed to a stop and were standing at the end of the driveway, facing one another as you pondered whether tonight was going to be spent inside reading and listening to music, or stimulated by exciting noises and lights while you stuffed your face with Carnival delicacies and treats.

"... If I say yes, will I still get my stuffed animal?" You already knew the response as the smile returned to John's face.

You and John made it to the Fair for 6:30, and it was already full of life; children on the rides screaming their heads off, friends competing in mini games like Ring Toss and Balloon Darts, and the smell of popcorn and candy floss swirled through the air.

As you looked around at all of the rides available, you barely noticed John going out of his way to buy tickets for both you and him for the night. When he returned to you, he tried to see if you were looking at a particular ride. "Anything catching your eye?"

"I feel like they have different stuff this year. Like, that one must be new," you pointed to a group a different rides that you'd never seen before. "Let's look around, and if anything looks interesting enough, I say we go for it."

John bought you enough tickets for you both to ride everything anyways, but you two had all night, and nowhere to be the next day, so you agreed to start at one end of the fair, and work your way through it.

The first ride that caught the attention of either one of yous were the Tea Cups.

"Remember the one time I threw up on you on that ride?" You asked John with a little smile, to which he replied without a beat,

"And then I threw up on you and caused a chain reaction with all of the other kids on the ride?"

You both laughed and cringed at the rather unpleasant memory before John kindly took your elbow and pulled you towards the ride gently, knowing full well that your matured stomachs would be able to handle it now, and your moving feet indicated you weren't objecting the idea of getting on.

"We gotta start the fun somewhere, Love. After you," John presented four tickets to the ride operator, and you chose your favourite colour cup to climb into.

"If you just don't spin the cup, we'll make it out of here safe," you warned John with a joking wagging finger, and he saluted to you respectfully as he closed the hatch to the cup and took a seat next to you.

"Don't worry, we won't meet the same fate as last," he grabbed the wheel at the centre of the cup as if to indicate he was going to steady it the whole time, and you were excited to see how well he'd do; and even more excited to make fun of him when he did a bad job.

The ride shot to life, and as the cups began dancing around in different patterns, you watched in amusement as John tried his very hardest to keep the cup from spinning; his attention sometimes turning to you, and he watched as your hair whipped around your smiling face as the ride threw the both of you around.

Your beating heart was building up adrenaline as the ride spun on. You suddenly threw your hands overtop of John's, and his eyes shot up to you, hands going slack on the wheel, and you took that moment to whip the cup around as hard as you could, the world becoming a blur around you, and your energy within escaping in a bound of squeals and giggles.

John couldn't help but join in, your laughter was contagious, and the excitement he felt seeing you having fun made his heart ache a little, but in a good way.

The ride was over much sooner than the either of you would have liked, the both of you combing your fingers through your hair to appear more presentable as your tea cup came to a complete stop. John opened the door for you, and you both continued on on wobbly legs to see what else the Fair had to offer.

After a few carnival games and slow, paced rides, you finally grab John by the wrist after he suggests doing something you'd rather do later so he didn't take off too far.

"I think we should do the Ferris Wheel, John," You dropped his wrist and pointed to the ride in the distance behind him, his eyes following your gaze to it.

"Come along, then," it was now his turn to grab your wrist, and lead you along.

That was one unspoken rule you had with John: he never held your hand. You weren't sure why, and you didn't really care-- you didn't want to hold his hand. You just always settled on the idea John was really committed to the joke about not wanting to get Cooties; and honestly, you respected his devotion to the joke.

Your wait in line to ride the Ferris Wheel was a short one, and your chest filled with excitement yet again as you and John took your seats and the ride operator strapped you in.

As the ride filled with other people, you and John slowly made your way to the very top of the ride, allowing yourselves to take in the view of the Fair that seemed to stretch forever.

"We really should have done this first so we could have seen everything all at once," you said, peering down at some of the unrecognizable stands and rides surrounding you both. One in particular caught your eye, and it was in the shape of a space ship from those cartoons depicting the future.

"We definitely have to check that one out," you pointed to it, and John nodded his head in agreement.

"It seems to be right by the games and food. We'll grab some candy while we're in the area."

"And...?"

"And I'll win you that prize, yeah yeah yeah, I know what I promised."

The Ferris Wheel then took off, and you and John savoured the ride, watching the sun slowly fall towards the horizon, the most beautiful colours painted across the sky.

"I'm glad you convince me to come with you, Johnny. I'm having loads of fun. Thank you," you didn't shout, just loud enough that John could hear, and he smiled at you.

"Like I said, if anyone needs to be more spontaneous, it's you. If I can fix that in any way, I'll take the chance," you smiled back at his words, turning your full attention back to the sky as the ride began to slow, knowing this moment, like everything else, was going to come to an end.

You and John were on a mission to get over to the space ship, passing by a bunch of other rides and games you pointed to and indicated aloud along the way that they were on your To-Do list that evening.

As you approached what you two initially thought was a ride, you discovered that the rocket was actually just a still building. There were two lines entering the ship, and there were a few people in each line.

One of the Fair Staff was walking by, and John stopped him before he went too far. "Hey, what's this one all about?"

"Cosmic Hearts is a matchmaking activity we just added! You're matched with someone of your preference in the other line anonymously, and you both enter the rocket. You spend two minutes in the dark together, and then you leave together when the doors open, revealing who you've matched with. You can also think of it as a two-way Kissing Booth."

The staff member looked at the both of you before adding on slowly, "established couples usually don't use that one..."

"Oh, you must be mistaken, we're not--" John couldn't even correct the guy before he was walking away again. You looked from John, back to the metal space ship. The guys standing in line weren't bad looking at all.

"... I wouldn't mind spending two minutes in the dark with any of them," you thought aloud, noticing that each person in line had at least one unique physical attractive quality.

"Yeah, well I'd be worried they'd be touchy with you. In the dark and all," John huffed, shaking his head at the picture he painted himself, and you bursted out laughing.

"What, so you're my chaperone now? Going in there is knowing full well you're going to have hands all over you. Maybe I want to be squeezed up a little, Johnny, is there any harm in that?"

"I mean," John's face flushed a rosy pink before shutting his eyes and shaking his head again, as if that was going to stop his imagination from doing what an imagination does.

"That's.. not something I want to picture."

"Well look, you don't have to anymore," you took John's arm and pulled him towards one of the game stalls close by. "But you do have to try to win me that stuffed bear. We all know that's what I came for in the first place."

The distraction you set up was a good one. The game you brought John to was pretty much just Balloon Darts but forest- themed. You watched as John tried his very best to aim his darts, but he just couldn't quite seem to make the mark for that bear.

The fifth round came and went, and John was still slapping more tickets down. You knew it didn't help that John was legally blind and flat-out refused to wear his glasses, but you weren't about to start an argument with him over that.

After John used up the rest of his darts from that round, he looked over at you with frustration and he sighed. "Look, I might just need a quick break," John took the tickets from inside his pocket, and placed them in your hand.

"I'm running to the loo, it's just on the other side of the park, just hang out here, play a round... or four... and see if you're a better shot than me,"

"I'm always a better shot than you, Lenny," you called to him as he disappeared in the crowd, waving back to you as if to acknowledge your cocky response.

You went to turn back to the game, but something stopped you. You took a quick glance over your shoulder, and eyed the lineup at the rocket ship. You couldn't believe how good looking the people in the lineup were, you could only imagine what the mystery people in the second line looked like.

And then John's words from earlier became apparent in your head, statement ringing in your ears.

"Y/n, of the two of us, it's you who needs to be more spontaneous."

You furrowed your brow as you thought about this decision you were about to make. The closest lineup to you wasn't long at all, and before you knew it, your feet were pretty much walking themselves up to the line.

There was a girl about your age doing the matching for your line, and she met your gaze after letting the next person in. She grinned, and approached you.

"Hello! Welcome to Cosmic Hearts, do you know how we work?"

"Sort of... I just don't know how the matches are made."

"Oh, it's no worries, we do that all for you! We only really take the girl's request for preference types, and then we match accordingly from the other line. Is there something in particular you want about your match? Looks? Behaviour?"

You raised an interested eyebrow, skeptical about how accurate your preferences would be in terms of the match.

That being said, it was just an elaborate kissing booth, it's not like you were using the stall to find the love of your life-- no, you were looking to prove to John that you could be daring, that you weren't as boring as he maybe thought.

"Look, girl-to-girl here, I trust your judgement in choosing me a good-looking guy..." your voice tapered off for a moment before you added, " I just might want someone who doesn't seem too overconfident."

The Match Girl smiled wide, and gestured toward the door to the spaceship with her hand, pushing it open to let you in. You were the next girl in line, and the boys in the lineup watched as you took a deep breath and moved in.

As you walked toward the threshold of the dark room, Match Girl filled you in on the instructions.

"The other side of the curtain will be your 'contact area', only walk through when you hear the other door close; that'll mean he's inside as well. You'll have two minutes alone together, at which point we will open the central door and let you both out"

Your heart began to quicken. It didn't really occur to you until now that you were about to make out with a complete stranger in the dark, and leave that spaceship hand-in-hand just to prove to John wrong about you lacking in as much fun as he thought.

But this impulsive plan of yours also excited you a lot.

Maybe by the end of the night, you'd be leaving with a boyfriend, and telling John that you told him so.

You took your final step into the rocket, and your heart pounded against your ribcage as it all went dark.

After about thirty seconds of silence, you heard some shuffling from the other side of the curtain, and then a simple, "your two minutes start now," from the staff.

Your heart was beating so loud, you could hear the blood flowing in your ears. Your remaining senses enhanced, provided your lack of vision, and you followed the wall to the right with your hand, past the curtain, and you could feel an immediate change in temperature in the room.

You were much warmer now, hyper-aware of the fact that you were sharing body-heat with whoever the staff matched you with. You had to relay it in your head a few times what this actually meant for you. It meant that the stranger in this room with you was going to get to know you quite intimately in a pretty short amount of time.

This made you think a moment or two about the other party in this situation: The Stranger. What was his story? Was he dared to jump in line by his buddies to get some action? Maybe his story is that he just wanted to have his first kiss to get it just done and over with, or maybe he, like yourself, was just doing it for the Hell of it.

Whatever the reason, you felt you owed it to them to give them a decent snogging.

Your hand continued to drift along the wall before your thumb bumped into another hand. You gasped quietly, knowing you were close to the stranger, just not exactly sure of where abouts until now.

You lifted your hand off the wall at the same time as him, and as to not lose you, he made sure to reach out and take your hand in his gently, seeming more like an offer than a demand, which you took, admittedly rather nervously, especially when his other hand reached out to grab the other hand at your side.

Something was just so thrilling picturing so many renditions of handsome young men in your head, mixing and matching what he looked like based on what you could feel. His hands were larger than yours, and his fingers were calloused.

He played guitar, or bass, or something, and you knew this because John played, and you remember him telling you once that the strings were really hard on the hands, and you could just tell by looking at his hands that he wasn't joking.

You just thought the feeling was such a contrast against your own hands, which were soft and untouched, and you were sure with the way this guy was running his thumbs over your palms, and the pads of your fingers, he was admiring the contrast as well.

You almost wanted to say something to him about it, but he had you stuck in a trance, especially when he let your hands go for a moment to gently feel up your arms for your shoulders. You tried your best not to be too reactive, but you couldn't help the goosebumps trailing after his touch.

His hands moved up, and you felt his fingertips graze the crooks of your neck and then up under your jaw.

Neither of you spoke, this moment too intimate for the silence to break. You and he breathed so shallow, it was hard to even believe there was someone in the room with you.

But there was, and his fingers traced your jawline slowly, one hand deviating up to cradle the back of your head while the other gently traced around your chin.

Your lips parted, your own hands reaching out for his waist so you had some idea of where he was in front of you. Your fingers found his jacket, and as you tightened your hands around the leather, you felt him move a little closer as his thumb finally found its way to your bottom lip.

You felt his breath on your face, and you held your own, squeezing your eyes shut when you realized they had been wide open the whole time.

And finally, after what seemed like too long, his thumb disappeared and he replaced it with his own lips.

The kiss was soft, and not pushy at all, but you were tense like a rock under his touch from how nervous you actually were, and you just kept still.

He pulled away for a moment, and you could feel your face burning. That was not the kind of note you were going to leave on. Whoever this was, he had clearly gotten your attention, and you needed to return the favour.

Your one hand moved up his chest, over his collarbone and around his neck to pull him back down towards you. Your lips came together again, and you felt him melt into your embrace after an unsure second, hands dropping down to snake around your waist and pull you flush against him.

You sighed against his mouth, and he pushed his tongue past your lips, all of your past worries melting away. You were in heaven, so drunk on intimacy that you forgot what you were even doing in there in the first place. You tried pulling him even closer by the jacket, to which he responded by slowly backing you against the wall, one of his hands dropping to your hip, and the other returning to the back of your head like before.

Your hand behind his neck slipped up into his hair, and he moaned gently when you tightened your fingers up in the strands and pulled a little.

"Yes, Baby..." the words tumbled from his mouth lowly, and you felt a chill shoot right up your spine; you immediately froze up, lips separating as the realization hit you. You felt like you were going to faint.

"John?!" Your question was short, but clear, and you felt your suspicions were all too correct when you felt all of his muscles tense up as well at the sound of your voice.

"...Y/n?!" His voice cracked, body frozen in place like a statue. As were you, grip still tight in his hair and on his jacket.

You were speechless-- you couldn't believe the one you just spent the last minute and a half or so with-- the one with whom you spent the most intimate experience in your entire life-- was John.

The gentle touching, the embracing of the heavy silence, the patient behaviour, the soft kissing, the respect of your boundaries, and the feeling of wanting more-- it was all John.

This was the first time in your life you had ever experienced John in a situation where he didn't have the words he needed to speak at his disposal.

But to be fair, neither did you. What would anyone do in a situation like this?

It became all the more real for the both of you a moment later when the doors opened up, the lights around the rocket ship lighting John's face for you to see, and your face for him. You both sported embarrassing shades of red on your cheeks, and John's mouth just hung open in perpetual shock as he took in the fact that it was you.

After a second, you both came back down to earth, and your hands came zipping off each other so fast, John scratching his head nervously and giving you space from the wall, and you folding your arms over your chest and gripping your biceps tightly with your fingers.

You couldn't even look John in the eye, nor could he with you, let alone speak. You walked out the door, John at your side. The Match Girl waited by the bottom of the ramp, grinning ear-to-ear. If only she'd known.

"Pretty good-looking, huh?" She nudged to you with a wink, and you could feel your face grow hotter as you glanced over to John. You made brief eye-contact, and you cast your eyes straight to the ground when it happened.

You were thinking things about John you never would have before had it not been for that stupid snog box.

"Yes," was all you could say, nodding for the most part and squeaking out a soft thank you to her before you turned on your heel, and beelined straight for the women's room, rushing out to John that you were running to the loo without looking back at him.

You were too focused on finding some cold water to splash in your face, and a quiet space to figure out what to do in this situation; the lights and sounds had your head just spinning, and it was too difficult to concentrate.

The women's room was quiet enough, and when you felt you'd splashed enough water in your face, you went and sat in one of the stalls for a while to break down the situation that just happened, and what you were going to do to fix it.

John was your friend. There was no way you were going to let something like this drive a wedge between you, especially if you just had to explain yourselves. You had your reasons going in there, as did he.

You were just hoping this could be something you could both look back on in the future and laugh.

You took a few sobering deep breaths before leaving the women's room. You rounded the corner, not quite sure where to begin looking for John, but you found you didn't have to go far when a rather familiar set of fingers took hold of your own as soon as you stopped.

You glanced over your shoulder and there he was. He'd been waiting for you the whole time.

And now he was holding your hand.

That's new.

"... Can we talk?" you spoke simultaneously, and you both smiled a little. John still couldn't seem to hold your gaze for too long without needing to tear his eyes away and resort to looking at his shoes, yet he still held a firm grip on your hand.

You'd never seen him like this before. It was sobering to see him without so much confidence.

"Where did you wanna talk? Nowhere's really private here."

"... Did you just wanna get outta here?" As soon as the words left his mouth, your shoulders lowered in relief. You both definitely had enough excitement for the night, and when you nodded your head sheepishly, John gave your hand a little squeeze, gestured you to come with him with his head, and you both headed for the Fair exit.

Your stroll down the town streets were quiet. Nothing was said between you two for the first little while, your strides were slow, your destination was unknown, and your hands were still clasped together. You took in the night air, for the sun had dropped below the horizon while you were in the spaceship, and the temperatures were lower.

You weren't too sure yet how John felt about all of that night's events so far, and what he thought of you. Clearly, based on the fact that his hand was still in yours, some opinion of his had changed.

Was he comfortable holding your hand now knowing it was you who shared such an intimate moment with him? Or was he maybe wanting to break off this friendship with you all because of tonight, and hand-holding was the only way he could think to comfort you?

At one point, John's fingers unraveled from yours, and you both slowed to a stop. He shrugged off his jacket and wordlessly draped it over your shoulders before you pushed your arms up into the sleeves. John tried looking you in the eye again, and he swallowed nervously, face going red yet again.

"John, we need to talk about what happened."

"I know."

You took his hand this time, and guided him to the curb, sitting down together. Your fingers left his, and you both planted your hands at the curb at your sides.

There was silence for a moment as the memories of what happened back at the Fair resurfaced in your minds, what you were both feeling for each other, physically and emotionally, in your literal moments of blissful ignorance...

"Okay. I'm just going to put this out there right now. John, I had absolutely no idea that they matched me with you, or that you were even in line, for that matter." You sighed before continuing on, feeling the creep of warmth washing over your face yet again.

"I jumped in line impulsively when you left because I figured if you came back and you saw me leaving the rocket with a guy, I could prove to you tonight that I can be just as spontaneous and daring and fun as you."

You could see the gears turning in John's head when you finished saying your part, and after a second of putting the pieces together, his eyes widened, and then this wide smile spread right across his face, and, to your utter relief, he started laughing.

And it sounded so different compared to all of the other times he laughed around you. You couldn't quite place exactly what was different this time, but you found it to be more melodic than usual; more genuine. It was like music to your ears.

"I uh, I jumped in line for kind of the same reason." You raised a confused eyebrow, so John elaborated a little more, smile faltering a little as he cleared things up.

"Let me explain; If you saw me leaving the rocket with a girl, I was hoping I could convince you to do something tonight a little out of your comfort zone, like I did with that."

There was your Pièce De Résistance: John's reason for being in there all along was to teach you to live a little. And you were simply in there to live.

"Not that I wanted to see you specifically go through with the spaceship and getting felt up the wrong way, per se, but I just..."

John's words trailed off, and you could tell he was struggling to find words again. So, he decided to take this conversation in another direction.

"Okay, look, y/n, I don't want you to be under the impression that I think you're no fun. It's just not true. I adore you. There's just something about seeing you at the peak of excitement that makes me feel warm inside, like a child. I see this in moments you doubt yourself, but you still take that chance and you come out successful in the end, shining with confidence. I wanted to see you tonight with that same glow. And I would have if I hadn't have made fun in the first place that you were such a bore, so I'm sorry."

John dropped his head down after he finished speaking, and you looked at him for a moment, blinking once before reaching out to rub his back.

"Johnny, there is nothing to be sorry about." He turned his gaze to look at you, and you took some long pauses between your sentences. John was patient, eyes watching your face, and hanging onto every word you said.

"Of all the people I could have ended up with in that rocket tonight, I don't think you have any idea just how grateful I am that it was you in there with me, and not some stranger."

You didn't think you could keep it inside forever just what you thought about John's kissing, but you didn't think you'd give up fifteen minutes after the situation, either.

"John, I've kissed boys before, that's no secret between us; but what is is that I've never kissed a boy the way I kissed you tonight, and the attention you were giving back to me, I thought I nearly fell for you in there, and I had no clue it was even you," you laughed a little, the words feeling funny in your mouth, especially when they were for John's ears, only. Those words elicited red faces from the both of you.

"... I never thought I'd ever be nervous looking you in the eye, but to be quite honest, all that comes to mind when I see your face right now is the bubbling of excitement in my chest, and the feel of my legs going wobbly. God, John, would I be crazy to say I want you to kiss me like that all over again?"

You figured if you didn't throw the opportunity out there, you just might lose the chance to experience what you felt again, even if it meant just one last time in your life. But when John remained silent for longer than you hoped, your confidence began to falter. Perhaps John wasn't so comfortable with you anymore.

"... Would I be crazy?" You asked again, this time just above a whisper. John was the kind of person you expected to laugh something like this off. Perhaps he'd tease you for a moment, but ultimately tell you it was no big deal before gently rejecting you.

Instead, his silence indicated something much different. His eyes darted to your lips for a moment, a hand reaching up to hold the back of your head gently as he glanced up into your eyes.

"Love, if you think you're crazy for thinking that, then what I'm thinking must make me completely mad."

Your heart pounded against your ribcage, and John decided not to waste any more time in reconnecting your lips.

At first it was a little strange, his mouth on yours, but it wasn't in any way unpleasant. You found yourself, before long, snaking your arms around John's shoulders as you pulled him ever closer, your chests now flush as he tilted his head to the side to deepen the kiss. You hummed at the contact, but John had to pull away soon after to catch a breath, but he kept your chests flush so he could feel your heartbeat.

The contrast of kissing him knowing full well who he was still didn't change the respect in his movements, and the gentleness of his kisses.

When your eyes met again, you couldn't help but smile nervously at him, biting down on your lip as you noticed his cheeks glowed pink.

"Wow," you sighed.

"I'll say," he responded, one corner of his mouth twitching up into a smirk as the pad of his thumb drew invisible patterns from your cheekbone down your jaw.

That's when your smile began to fall slowly, and John noticed this as he was going to dive in for another kiss.

"What's the matter, Love?"

"... I think I like this too much. I think I like you too much," you said bluntly. The more you and John indulged in what you both physically wanted, the more you realized what you were putting on the line.

"... And is that a problem?" John asked you gently, and you raised your eyebrow, pulling away a little more from the embrace.

"It's a problem because this puts our friendship at risk, John. Every time our lips touch, the harder it is to look at you platonically."

"Then don't look at me platonically anymore," His suggestion was so effortless as you felt his other hand reach up to play with your hair.

"... I never expected tonight to go the way it did. But y/n, the more I think about a situation where it was anyone but me in that rocket with you, the more jealous I'm becoming... The more grateful I am that it was me, too."

John took another moment to bask in the silence before clearing his throat, and looking you right in the eyes.

"My eyes are wider than they've ever been before, and my mind is so clear. Why don't we try dating?" He suggested after a moment of deciding whether to ask in the first place.

"Dating?!" You paused. "John, if anything were to happen to what we have..."

"I know you're scared, y/n. So am I. But... I also believe this can be the beginning of something really great."

John let the hand in your hair drop to his shoulder where one of your hands rested. He gave your fingers a squeeze before he raised your hand to his lips to kiss your knuckles.

"We already kind of go on dates, and now that kissing and hand holding is on the list of things we're comfortable with, we might as well just put a label on it."

John paused for a moment. "It's not like we have to scream it from the rooftops unless you wanted to. But... after tonight, it would be a treat to be able to walk around with my arm 'round your waist and proudly announce to the world that you're mine."

That comment of his made you bite back a toothy grin, but your red face really emphasized how his words made you feel. You were expecting a teasing jab from John, but, surprisingly, nothing came. Just hopeful eyes awaiting your response.

"If you're so confident we'll flourish romantically... then I'm with you, Johnny. We'll give it a go. But under one condition!"

John looked at you expectantly.

"You win me that damned stuffed animal tomorrow night, Lenny."

Now it was John's turn to grin, his arms curling around your body and pulling you into a warm embrace as he mumbled "deal" into your ear.

You were once again surrounded by leather, the crisp night air, the single dim beam of light from the streetlamp, and the faintest scent of whatever John's body wash was.

But most of all, you we're surrounded by young love.

You finally supposed that by the end of the night, you did end up leaving with a boyfriend, and telling John that you told him so.

You just had no clue you could kill two birds with one stone the way you had.

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

A/A/N: I really hope you guys enjoyed this! I've had it in the works for LITERALLY four years now, and I am just SO glad it can be out in the world now.

PERMENANT TAG LIST

@culturefiendtrashqueen

@cowgorls

(Pls message if you want to be added/removed from my permanent/oneshot/chapter fic tag lists!)

#the beatles #john lennon #john lennon x reader #paul mccartney #paul mccartney x reader #george harrison #george harrison x reader #ringo starr #ringo starr x reader #x reader #fem reader

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ingravinoveritas · 2 months

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So al was asking ppl to ask her questions as her Fridays are so dull while her partner doing a play. Doesn't she find when she wiv michael it dull cos usually shows it or the other way round and then the bird one I found interesting cos since when have we seen Ms be protective over Al we haven't seen him speak or defend his relationship of what the journalists or ppl say about his relationship of what was said on weds where she defended it and and put a insta story about it we all know he loud but protective I think if he had to choose to protect or save someone it would be david hands down not al

What ur thoughts love to hear ur take on this

(Grouping together for ease of answering. @hyperfixating-rn-brb's Ask is referring to the last screenshot.)

So, I saw this as it was happening on Friday, and...yeah. I'm not sure what the impetus behind this random Insta AMA was (perhaps PR suggesting that Anna do something to counter her rash of recent off-putting social media posts?), but whatever the reason, choices™ were definitely made with some of (well, most of) her answers.

I think what struck me about the ones in these screenshots is how they’re lowkey insulting to Michael, but all in different ways (and not overtly, but passive-aggressively, as hyperfixating-rn-brb mentioned). It also seems odd that AL is currently in London, one of the most dynamic and attraction-filled cities imaginable, yet acting as if there is nothing to do on a Friday night. (Because Michael (and/or Georgia) aren't there to entertain her, I guess?)

Leaving that aside, the entire way this happened was just strange. A lot of the questions felt very boilerplate ("Are you currently reading anything?" "Who is your biggest inspiration?") and almost like they were planned in advance (I think at least one actually was from someone AL knows personally, IIRC), yet interspersed with enough "wacky" questions to give the impression of it being this spontaneous Q&A thing.

As for the answers in the screenshots above, I saw people on Twitter getting outraged over the "girly" question on Saturday, but predictably for all the wrong reasons. In particular, I noticed people once again blaming Michael/David shippers for it, but just from the wording alone, my feeling was that whoever sent in this question did not seem to be a shipper at all. "Girly" has a very specific, borderline homophobic connotation to it (akin to someone asking Anna if she "acts dykey" around Georgia), and while I know English is not her first language, I don't think that meaning is something AL would have missed.

So, no, it's certainly not a great or appropriate question by any means. But the bigger issue, at least in my opinion, wasn't so much "Why would someone ask this?", but rather "Why would she post this?" Because Anna is a grown woman who could have very easily just ignored this question altogether. Instead, she chose to draw attention to it, and to react in much the same way as her "vagueblogging" from the other day. It was as if the purpose in sharing it was to show people what she has to "put up with"--either from the fans or from Michael or both.

That's the other piece of this--that she shared this question with seemingly no regard for how it makes Michael look, or whether it would or could be embarrassing to him. It immediately made me think of this tweet from Michael two years ago, where he chose to answer a question in such a way as to deliberately not embarrass David (further explanation can be found here). It's something that seems so small but means so much, and that you'd think would happen effortlessly for someone you love. So the contrast of that to Anna posting this was striking to me, and it was further compounded by her answer to the "favorite bird" question.

Again, it's almost unsurprising at this point. Anna has previously made unflattering comparisons between Michael and Cousin Itt, a Hobbit, and Hagrid--among others--and now we can add a cockatiel to this list. What’s weird is that the question itself had nothing to do with Michael, so there was absolutely no reason to bring him into it...and yet. It felt like name dropping for the sake of name dropping, which just seems like a weird thing to do when she's been dating him for five years now. Did she think we forgot? That we needed a reminder? Whatever the reason, this definitely seemed like such a strange choice, and another instance of passive-aggressively putting him down under the pretense of a compliment.

(A note about the "protective" part, as I noticed that was particularly mentioned in this Ask. I would agree that there are a lot more overt/visible instances of Michael being protective of David--many of which I have talked about on my blog--than of Anna. That does not mean I don't think he is protective of her, however, but that there is a distinction between the two. It is possible to be protective of someone out of a sense of responsibility and obligation, and those are not necessarily bad things. But it's very different to being protective of someone not because you feel like you have to be protective, but because you want to be. Interpret that how you will...)

Finally, I just need to mention that one of the questions AL was asked was about Georgia ("Is Georgia secretly holding you hostage?"), and what I have hardly seen anyone talking about is that Georgia reshared that Insta story a short while later...and added a song called "I'm Trapped"...

I just...was this meant to be shady on Georgia's part? Who, exactly, is "trapped" here? The subtext and potential implications can go in so many directions here that it's hard to know where to start, but...yeah. The optics of Georgia resharing this story and adding that song in the middle of AL's Insta Q&A were and are questionable/cringey/unintentionally hilarious on multiple levels.

So yes, that is my take on the events of Friday night. As I've said before and will again, I know I could be totally off the mark here, so I'd love to hear from my followers as to what you think. Thank you for writing in! x

#angel19924 #hyperfixating-rn-brb #reply post #michael sheen #welsh seduction machine #trying to provide a balanced perspective #but what's the old saying: when someone shows you who they are believe them the first time #at this point i honestly do not understand why she is even still with him #there was also a question about 'Who was your 1st celeb crush?' and she mentioned a Swedish boy band #but then said she 'couldn't say' who her British crush was but that it's 'not who you think'#and i'm not sure what the purpose of that was either #but i will leave it to my followers to make up their own minds #georgia tennant #anna lundberg #relationships #discourse

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moyokeansimblr · 4 months

Text

Update

Not feeling so hot and I'm not going to do anything impulsive at 8PM on a Friday evening but

here is a link to a sfs folder with ALL of my content that's currently only hosted on patreon.

I want to add individual sfs links to the tumblr posts but that's a lot and I'm now regretting never adding alt dl links this whole time... and sorry I don't think the downloads in the sfs folder are in order... it also might be some other things, like fixed meshes or stuff. tbh I just added everything I've made after April 3rd 2023 since that was the last time I uploaded anything to sfs.

I guess while I'm here... I was going to wait until after I finish up the last of my active requests (probably by Monday, I'm almost done) but I desperately need a break from CC. I sent a group message on the 17th to my $4 and $6 patrons encouraging them to cancel, but I know not everybody knows patreon even has dms so maybe you'll see this post and I'll reach out again in the coming days so nobody is wasting their money. I am so immensely burnt out and I need to not create for a while. This is completely my own fault, nobody made me work on CC for 8-10 hours 5 days a week for the last several months and I fully knew it wasn't sustainable ages ago but I kept doing it because it made me feel good, until it didn't. Quite honestly, even before I sent the group message the instant wave of relief I felt just having made the decision to take a break... that caught me off guard but just confirmed I need this. I do feel really awful about it because I feel like I'm letting people down but at the same time I don't want to hate creating which was already happening. That being said, I don't know how long the lull in CC is going to be, and if you're only following me strictly for CC I apologize. As said I am still finishing up one request I still had, I'm about 75% done with that as of this post. But that's gonna be it for a while.

There is a part of me that wants to stop using patreon completely and unpublish my creator page (which is what I'm not going to impulsively do tonight without properly thinking it through...since there are positives like how easy it is to download files and whatnot) but I'd again encourage not only those who joined the $4 and $6 tiers but also the $2 tier to cancel so that you aren't wasting your money. If I did do this I would definitely do the individual sfs links on everything first. I'd not just leave you guys unable to download my stuff.

So, what does that mean for this blog? I'll spare ye, impatient readers, who have already read a lot because I ramble⬇️

Well, as of posting this I still have THREE HUNDRED AND TWENTY FOUR Strangetown posts in my queue. And I'm not tired of playing that.

I'm looking forward to having an opportunity to do all of the things I've been neglecting. I'm finally going to go through the subfolder within my downloads of everything I'm downloaded the last few months and decide if I wanna keep it in my game or not. And finish default replacing everything. And all my other various little projects I haven't been doing.

Also, I want to start playing Veronaville 😮I've already started downloading lots from kattaty to replace the in-game ones, and I found a cool replacement for the neighborhood map. I am leaning towards making a new sub-blog for this so that you don't have to try and follow Strangetown/LFT posts and Veronaville/ALT posts at the same time. I've only ever played the Veronaville sims for like one day as part of a super failed megahood years ago so I'd like to get to know them.

So basically, I guess I'm a gameplay blog for now? Until I want to create anything again anyways, but I don't know when that will be.

I don't know how to end this post... I'm sorry for the disappointment, but thank you so much for enjoying my stuff 💛💛

#moyokean #sims 2 #ts2 #the sims 2 #thesims2

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factual-fantasy · 3 months

Text

24 ASKS!! AAA THANK YALL SO MUCH THIS ONE WAS VERY FUN :}} ✨💖✨

Ah no worries about not understanding! I would prefer no fanart was drawn of my cookie ocs.. thank you for asking to double check though! :}}

(Post this ask is referencing)

I explain it all in this post! :00

:DD Thank you so much!! And yeah, I just didn't have the heart to keep Papyrus suffering 😭😭 as much as it really seems like I don't-- I do love Papyrus as a character. And I felt like he really deserved some kind of salvation after everything I put him through.. Also it'll make for some interesting dynamics in the group! Looking at Seam and Jevil.. 👀👀

Oh yeah, and poor Coconut. If I hadn't drawn angst of Octo already she wouldn't have been the subject this time! <XDD And thank you!! :DD I'm glad to hear that she's your favorite!! :}}

And yes! I always saw the other koopa kids- especially Ludwig- to be older than JR. Maybe its the bib-- and who knows! I tend to loop back around to old fandoms from time to time so I can see myself drawing the koopa kids again XDD

As for the Mario Movie,, shockingly enough I still haven't seen it. What can I say? I have some kind of problem upstairs I'm sure of it--

Though its interesting to hear that the movie blue shells are similar to mine! :0 And I'm honored to hear that you like my version more than the movies! :DD 💖💖

XD Its been a while since I've seen those movies. So I cant really remember much of Jack Sparrow.. but I trust that you are right! XD

@foxythefox11

XD If I do that Jangles will probably super bounce her into the sun-

And thank you! And hey, I'm sorry that you're not very confident in your artwork right now.. Just keep in mind, all it took for me was time. Your art will improve with time. Try your best to cut yourself some slack. Understand that you're still learning. We all are! Remember that your art will continue to improve if you just keep drawing!

I don't play it or know anything about it either <XDD but I'm glad you like them!! :}} ✨💖✨

(Post in question)

AWW! THAT SOUNDS ADORABLE!! 😭😭🥺💖

@solst1ce-sketches

@komikudikentalendo

Its actually the 3rd option. Usually when I'm in some kind of fandom I prefer my own AUs as opposed to others AUs or even canon. :00

That's probably becuase most of my AUs consist of removing things from canon I don't like and adding in random things that I do like-

@abaroo (Post in question)

AWWW THAT WOULD'A WORKED TOO THOUGH :(

I guess I was thinking that Frisk fully trusted Papyrus instantly. And so did not hesitate to give her cape to him 🥺💖

@natewithacake

ASKSAKSFDJ THANK YOU!! :DD MEGA HIGH FIVE VIBES FRFR!!

@skulls-and-cypresses (Post in question)

WHW- WAHG??? THAK YOU?? THANK YOU SO MUCH!! THAT'S SO KIND!! PROBABLY THE KINDEST THING ANYONE HAS EVER SAID ABOUT THE WAY I DRAW PAPYRUS!! ME?? REPRESENT HIM PERFECTLY??? WAAAA THANK OU!!! 😭😭💖😭💖💖

THANK YOU!! THANK THANK THANK YOU!! FOR EVERYTHING!! 😭😭💖💙😭😭😭

@dementia27

Aww! How cute! That might work! :000 Why do I want one now- XDD

@khoiazo

Aw, I'm sorry! <XDD I don't mean to make you sad :(((

AND YOOO!!! Its Friday when I'm answering this but the Wednesday dude is welcome any day of the week! :DD

Yeah, both canon Jevil and Spamton would be pretty dangerous to have around XDD But out of the two I think original Spamton would be interesting.. 👀

Not really for the personality, because my Spamton's personality is actually a bit similar.. but more for the visual aspect. I headcannon that canon Spamton's body shrunk when he fell into an acid pool. My Spamton fell into an acid pool as well, but it didn't shrink him. It destroyed the structure of his body and elongated him. Making him much taller and extremely deformed..

Imagine the two of them standing side by side. Original Spam would be up to my Spams knee! <XD

@minnesotamedic186

Evil voice: ehhehghehe... noted... hehehghehee

@pythecyberguy

Me when someone compliments me on the characters design that I was least confident about:

(fr tho THANK YOU!! THAT MEANS A LOT TO MEEEE😭😭💖💖😭💖 )

@nunyabusiness459 (Post in question)

Whoopsies! <XDD (jk jk light hearted--)

SHE WOULD THO XDD

I wouldn't say near-death.. Spade King didn't want to kill Jevil. So any injuries he inflicted upon him were injuries he could recover from..

@beryl-shade

Yeah :( their value to him was that of a grain of sand..

@neo-metalscottic

AAAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!! I'M SO GLAD YOU LIKE THEM!! :DDD

As for what kind of monsters they'd face,, I'm actually unsure- I haven't played either game and I don't know any of the lore or characters.. so I'm not sure what kinds of dangers the real cookie run pirates face.. :( But what I DO know is that Blue Beauty is their main form of protection.

She's not exactly threatening to a lot of creatures I'd imagine.. She is just a Mer-whale. No teeth or stingers to make her more intimidating.. But what she is, is huge. And incredibly strong. She's a real power house and uses tools and weapons the crew taught her how to use to defend herself. And I imagine with her thick blubber, it takes a really deep wound to actually hurt her. So she doesn't fear getting a couple scratches here and there.

When it comes to the other cookies, most everyone stands up and fights. Only a select few retreat to the lower decks to protect their goods or hide. Those likely being Ellie, she's too old for this crap- and Coco and Red, though don't be fooled! Coco can fight! She's just retreating with Red in order to protect him. Everyone else though is up there duking it out with who ever dares cross their ship! ⚔⚔

@lildiaperboyjake

Ah! Sorry for the late reply, this ask got buried--

I'd like to think Funtime Freddy would have a really hard time deciding on a favorite song. California girls, call me maybe,, wannabe?? But after a loooot of careful thinking, he'd pick all star by smash mouth XD

Hello hi yes this ask was sent weeks ago but then it got lost and buried but then revived in a way that I cant explain but my intended response was--

Awwww.. imagine her in tears after drawing a picture of a little girl she remembers. She holds the drawing up to the night sky, trembling.

"S-She dreamed of seeing the stars one day.." 💔

#my response #cookie run kingdom #cookie run #cookie run ocs #my ocs #undertale #deltarune #seam and jevil #fnaf sister location #papyrus #river person

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sage-nebula · 13 days

Text

Watcher Update Debrief

I am several days late on posting my full thoughts on Watcher's update regarding their streamer, because each day when I come home from work I feel too tired to do so (and I can't post while I'm at work because my work computer prohibits access to tumblr due to it being a "video streaming website" -- yes, you may laugh). Truth be told, I'm still too tired to do so, but each day that goes by this gets less and less relevant, and after posting so much about the situation over the weekend I don't want to just not post anything about the update video, because I feel I have to give some closure on this. So without further ado, here is that closure. This is going to be pretty long as well (hence not wanting to post it on my cell phone at work), so once again I'm going to put this under a cut to spare everyone's dashboards.

First, I want to address the actions they've announced they're taking regarding the backlash they've received in regards to the streamer, setting aside the actual content of the video itself. (Because there is a lot to dissect in the video itself, both in what they say and how they present what they say, and I want to give full attention to that.)

When Watcher announced the streamer last Friday, they said that they would be virtually quitting YouTube altogether. All they would post on YouTube in the future would be the premiers of each new show, while the seasons themselves would only be released on the streamer, which would require a subscription for the annual price of $60, or the monthly price of $6 (which would total $72 for the year). This of course was only factoring rates for United States residents; the prices would be higher for those internationally. It's also not getting into how the original plan was also to pull all older seasons off YouTube, as evidenced by what the company told Variety, before Ryan backtracked it in response to the initial backlash.

However, in the update, the Watcher team reveals that they are backtracking as much as they can with regards to the streamer. While they are still going to have the streamer for the prices listed, they are going to still upload new seasons of their shows to YouTube, albeit one month later than the shows premier on the streamer. For people who have already subscribed who wouldn't have had they known this was going to happen, they can ask for a refund and they will receive it. Additionally, patrons of the Watcher Patreon will now receive access to the streamer for free, and can also reach out to Watcher for a refund if they've already subscribed to the streamer.

In my opinion, this is the best case scenario. I know there are some people out there who are upset that they haven't canceled the streamer entirely, but for reasons I've spoken about in other posts / comments, I really don't think it's possible. When I wrote my initial debrief post, I thought that they had built their streamer from the ground up, because that was how they made it sound in their initial announcement video. It has since come to light that they're using Vimeo's OTT service. But here is the thing about Vimeo's OTT service: it is not free. And while there is a standard plan that allows a customer to pay $1 per subscriber, the much more likely plan that a company like Watcher is going to use is the Enterprise plan, which would require a contract.

Here are the details of the Enterprise plan:

The expanded bandwidth, upload hours, and 1080p HD streaming are reason enough for Watcher to go with the Enterprise plan over the Standard plan, but any company with half a brain cell would want a dedicated support team in case something happens to go wrong with the streamer at any point. The Standard plan is for individuals who want to get into hosting streaming websites for the first time; the Enterprise plan (as the name suggests) is for companies who want to do so, and Watcher is company.

You'll notice, though, that the Enterprise plan works by a monthly or yearly subscription, and that there is no flat rate available. This means that Watcher would have already negotiated a price, and likely has already paid at least some, if not all money up front (assuming they went yearly instead of monthly, and as Watcher's own plan shows, you normally get discounts for annual plans over monthly ones). What this means is that Watcher has absolutely already put money into the streamer, and that they are in a contract they likely cannot break without incurring more fees / losing money they have spent. So at least for the time being, the streamer has to exist. They can't simply walk away from it completely like some people still want them to.

So with that in mind, deciding to release the new seasons for free a month later on YouTube is the best possible outcome. They're still keeping the streamer for those who have and want to be subscribed to it. Releasing content early on a paid platform (such as, and I am just spitballing wildly here, Patreon) is a practice that many YouTubers have engaged in for a long while now. And I would guess the month delay is because they still really, really want to lure people to the streamer. Depending on how much money they put into that Vimeo OTT contract (and I really have no way of knowing how much money that was), I can understand why. Even so, it is a surprise to me that they are willing to compromise with the fans at all. I really was not expecting them to walk back any part of the decision. So this really is the best possible outcome any of us could have hoped for, in regards to specific actions regarding the decision they made before. The future of Watcher doesn't look as bleak now as it did on Friday.

With that said, let's address the content of the video itself.

Setting aside the "three ex-Buzzfeed employees on a couch" meme quality of the video (especially since the Try Guys on the couch hadn't done anything wrong themselves, whereas the Watcher guys did), here are the specific things I want to address:

1.) They centered Shane in the update video. I believe this was deliberate.

Over the weekend, huge swaths of the fandom blamed Ryan and especially Steven while exonerating Shane. At best, they just ignored Shane. At worst, they insisted that he was secretly against the idea all along and that the other two (especially Steven) had forced him into it / outvoted him. Setting aside the implicit racism in all of this (because although the fandom has had a very hard time admitting it, you don't find the men of color inherently untrustworthy / unlikable / unrelatable and the white man inherently relatable / trustworthy / likable without implicit biases, you just don't), it's unreasonable to think they didn't notice with the flood of hateful comments flooding Steven's and Ryan's socials while Shane got less heat. Not no heat, mind, but considerably less when compared with the other two.

So upon noticing that, they centered Shane -- who was still the most liked by the fandom, the one still seen as a "comrade" by a huge number of the fandom -- in the middle of the couch, to draw the eye, to play to the audience subconscious. The sight of Steven (and to a lesser extent Ryan) makes you angry? Put them to the side, put Shane in the middle. Let his white face calm you down. It absolutely sucks ass that this was needed, but again, there were both explicit racist comments and implicit racism at play all over the place this past weekend. It was disgusting, I'm sure they noticed, and they staged themselves on that couch accordingly.

(And it was staged, as well, because on the podcast they've talked about how Ryan often likes sitting in the center and Shane (and Steven) prefer sitting off to the sides. And in the first video we see this; Ryan is in the middle, with Steven and Shane are on either side of him. But in this one, it's switched. Wonder why? This is why.)

2.) They acknowledge that they messed up, and they apologize.

Now, their bad business decision is their bad business decision. If they wanted to tank their company by moving completely to a paywalled streamer that doesn't have nearly enough content to appease less than the most diehard of fans, much less appeal to potential new customers, that's on them. But in their announcement video, they were obtuse about the financial situations of many of their fans; they were patronizing, they were arrogant . . . they messed up. They messed up, and they say it plainly, and they apologize.

This is the most basic, the lowest of bars to clear. But many YouTubers fail to clear it. It's refreshing to see that they haven't. Personally, I have respect for people who can own their mistakes, apologize, and then resolve to do better in the future. We are all human; we are all going to fuck up at some time or another. The important thing is to acknowledge when we do, apologize for it, and then try not to do it again in the future. The fact that these three acknowledged that they fucked up, apologized for it, and then outlined the actions they're taking to fix the wrong actions they took above are all good things in my eyes.

(On that note, I also appreciate that they specifically address what hurtful things they said, and explain why those things are hurtful. They acknowledge that they blew off all the fans that couldn't afford the streamer, as well as the fans who have supported them via merch sales, Patreon subscriptions, live shows, et cetera for all these years. They acknowledge the comment about "a price anyone and everyone can afford" was insensitive and wrong. Anyone can say "I'm sorry" and have it be meaningless if they don't know why they should be sorry. The Watcher team clearly did listen to the feedback and understands what they did wrong. I appreciate that.)

3.) The one thing in the video I did not appreciate and that I think was a misstep was the part where Ryan tried to once again explain why they thought the streamer was a good idea.

We heard them explain in the announcement video that they need money from the streamer, and that they have a hard time reconciling their content with ads. The problem they face is this: if the audience didn't buy that then, they are not going to buy that now when they've had an entire weekend to be upset. And not only have they had an entire weekend to be upset, but we've also had at least one YouTuber who owns a company that connects YouTubers to advertisers lay out exactly how much money Watcher should be making from their channel and how friendly their channel is to advertisers, so the claims make even less sense now than they did before. Attempting to insist that, "we really do need the streamer money though" is doing little to convince those of us who didn't already believe that. You can say, "we would lose the company if we didn't do it" until you're blue in the face, but you really are wasting that breath.

More importantly, though . . . an apology is not the time for justifications. This video was meant to apologize for your wrongs to your community and announce the actions you are taking moving forward to right those wrongs. Which, to be fair, is what Watcher did. What the video was not for was to say, "But we were right to introduce the streamer because . . ." No one in your audience wants to hear that. Even if it made financial sense (which it did not), this is not the time or place for that, especially when what you are saying now is what you already said in the announcement video. It feels defensive at best. It's simply not the best move. It's not the time or place.

Which is not to say that nothing else should have been addressed here beyond an apology. Had they read a chunk of the fandom the riot act for the racism and other out of pocket comments (e.g. apparently people were posting on Ryan's wedding photos on IG that Mari would leave him when she realized how selfish and greedy he was), I would have supported them in that. Alas, twas not to be.

All in all, my final judgment on the whole situation is this: the response video is the best possible outcome any fans could have hoped for. I will remain subscribed to their YouTube channel, because I am an adult with a full time job and a life and so I don't mind watching the videos a month later if it means watching them for free. I accept the apology that the Watcher team has given, and I appreciate the fact that they got someone with actual public relations experience to assist them in writing and presentation (because they very clearly have a PR person assisting them now -- that was not a Watcher original production).

But just because I accept the apology doesn't mean that I have forgotten, or will forget, what has transpired. I have known for awhile now that Watcher Entertainment is not the tiny underdog they pretend to be. After all, they got DISNEY to sponsor them for an episode of Ghost Files. (The Haunted Mansion episode, to be specific.) When you have Mickelous Fucking Mouse himself opening his checkbook to cut you some cheddar for advertising, you have hit the big time. You can no longer claim to be a small, pitiable underdog at that point. Previously, I was happy for them that they were hitting the big time. I remember messaging a good friend of mine so excited that they were getting paid by The Mouse. After this debacle, though? Seeing them pretend to be starving to death while still getting cut checks by huge corporations for ad revenue? That sweet taste has turned rather bitter, especially when their merch -- multiple items of which I have purchased -- is so overpriced as well. (I paid over $80 for that Mystery Files jacket. It's just a regular denim jacket with the logos stenciled on . . . I was glad to support them and to have a jacket featured on the show, but now . . . smh.)

All of this is to say: I will still watch their shows for free on YouTube. I'll listen to their podcast when I need background noise. But I'll never again buy a piece of merch. And I'll regard them as I do the owners of any other company: businessmen who are, at the end of the day, there to make money. They are company owners, they are actors, and they are nothing more than that. And that's fine. They don't have to be.

That's where I stand, anyway. Everyone else is free to reach their own conclusions on the matter.

#don't bother trying to argue that ''people weren't racist''#or ''it was ok to be vile to Steven bc [reasons ppl dug up to justify their racism]'' or i'll just block you tho #watcher #watcher entertainment #shane madej #steven lim #ryan bergara

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cowgurrrl · 1 year

Text

BWFW

Pairing: rockstar!joel miller x actress!reader

Summary: You and Joel call a truce [3.8k]

Author’s note: dude I’m having so much fun writing this (PS this song is named after BWFW by Blunt Chunks)

Warnings: smoking (don’t smoke kids (drunk cigs don’t count)), Joel being an asshole momentarily, spicy thoughts (no smut), enemies to ???

Joel Miller Caught Kissing Actress After Date: Everything We Know About Her

Hollywood's Newest Power Couple?

Joel Miller Has A New Boo, And We're All A Bit Jealous

Who is Joel Miller's Newest Girl? Everything Their Waitress Told Us About Their Secret Romantic Date

Pictures of you and Joel making out against your front door are everywhere. You can barely log onto Instagram without being bombarded with DM's, comments, and tags in news articles about you two. Melanie even texted you with several headlines attached and a "Great job, kid!" Even your mom texted you about it. Granted, it was a screenshot of a Buzzfeed post, and all she sent you was a bunch of question marks, but she texted you. You try to put it out of your mind by leaving your phone in your trailer when you go to set instead of handing it off to a PA.

You decide that Joel Miller isn't worth more brain power than absolutely necessary. He has his own life, and you doubt he's thinking about you, and if he is, it's probably plotting his next reputation-saving move. The only thing you can do is work, make the best movie possible, and move on with your life until he summons you for another contractually obligated date. It's only a few months. You can make it, right?

You were asking the director about a scene, script in hand, when Ryan strolled up to you with a mischievous look. You ignore him and listen to Greta give you notes and ideas for the next movie sequence. He waits for you to be done with the conversation, like a third grader, before grabbing your arm and pulling you toward him.

"Why didn't you tell me you were seeing Joel Miller?" He asks, and you laugh. He walks you to a more secluded part of set, hiding from eavesdropping extras and chatty interns as they set the sound stage for the next scene.

"It didn't seem relevant to work."

"Not relevant? This is huge," he says, somehow more excited about this than you are, and you cross your arms over your chest. "You haven't dated at all since you made it big."

"Okay, that's not true."

"Really? Before last night, when was the last time you went on a date with anyone? Famous or not?" He asks. You open your mouth to answer, but your brain short circuits as you search through your memories. You're ninety percent sure that your last date was with the guy you had a showmance with before you moved to California. He was tall, handsome, and full of himself just like every other actor. You vaguely remember telling him you booked your first movie with A24, and he said you didn't have the "right look" for A24. Last you heard, he was living with five other roommates in the Meatpacking District back in New York.

"Okay, so maybe it's been a while," you admit, and he raises his eyebrows at you. "Please, don't make this a thing. I've already had enough people clawing at me for answers about it, and I'm exhausted."

"Fine, fine, but you have to promise you'll go out for drinks with me and Carolina on Friday. She's been dying to make couple friends, and I need to make sure he's good for you."

"You don't need to do anything, but sure. I'll talk to him and see what he thinks." You say, and he smiles. Before he can grill you any further, your names are called over the intercom, announcing that they're ready for you, and you silently thank whatever god is out there for getting you out of that situation. You and Ryan walk back to the sound stage and get flanked by people from makeup who need to touch you up and frantic ADs who repeat the same notes the director already gave you. You swear if their heads weren't attached to their necks, they'd run around looking for them at all hours.

You do several takes of the same scene, yet another scene of your characters arguing, this time about what they'll do now that your character is pregnant. Ryan progressively gets more despondent as he sinks into his character, frustrating you as his scene partner and the pregnant woman you're playing. After about two hours of running the same scene over and over again, you're at your wit's end and need to do something different. Everyone on set freezes when you shove at Ryan's shoulders and force him to look you in the eyes for the first time since you started filming. The entire scene shifts as you continue to push at him, tears unexpectedly falling from your eyes as you beg him to say something. It hurts more when he walks out the door without looking back. When Greta cuts, Ryan all but runs back in the door and wraps you in a big hug.

"You're gonna break my heart if you keep doing that!" He says, and you laugh as you wipe away your tears. You watch the scene back together, and jump up and down at how much better it flows. It feels like you're watching magic. Times like this remind you why you became an actor in the first place.

You film a few more scenes before breaking for the night. Your body hurts from carrying so much emotion as you walk into your trailer to gather your things to go home. You barely grazed the door, dinner plans already filling your head, when your phone buzzed in your back pocket. It's a text from an unsaved number, but it doesn't take a genius to figure out who it's from.

The lipstick on the collar was a nice touch, he writes, and you sigh.

That almost sounds like a compliment, Miller, you shoot back.

You're not even halfway to your car when your phone buzzes with another text from Joel.

Paul is really happy with how everything's going. He said he wants us to see each other again before I go back to Texas.

Good timing because my costar practically begged me to go on a double date with him and his wife.

We're already in double-date territory? How official.

Har har. How's Friday night sound?

Sounds like Paul is going to be very happy.

That makes one of us.

The rest of the week flies by with you dodging the online chatter about you and Joel somewhat successfully, but Ryan keeps reminding you how excited he is to hang out with you and your new "boy toy," as he has affectionately nicknamed Joel. You hate it, but he thinks it's funnier that way, so he just keeps calling him that. You swear Ryan was your annoying older brother in another life.

You're curling your hair when he texts you a cute picture of him and his wife in the car with the message, "Ready to interrogate JM." You laugh and return to messing with your hair, mentally going through every possibility that tonight could bring. You're wearing a pink tank top and jeans with pink heels. Nothing super fancy, but it's definitely more dressed down than your first date with Joel. You debate on which necklace to wear and wrap the final piece of hair around your curling iron when your front door opens.

Joel calls your name as he shuts the door behind him. You almost throw the hot iron down as you step into the hallway to face him. He's wearing a black shirt with a matching black leather jacket and jeans. He looks you up and down unapologetically, and you roll your eyes.

"Who told you you could just walk into my house?" You ask as you duck into the bathroom again. He leans against the doorway, crossing his arms over his chest as he watches you spray your hair to help it withstand the California heat.

"Hello to you too, darlin'."

"Don't call me that."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want you to."

"So, what can I call you?" He asks with a smirk pulling on his lips. You grab your bag off the counter and move to leave the bathroom, but he doesn't budge. You huff as you look up at him.

"Move."

"Answer the question." He says. You think about pushing him out of the way, but he's broad and has those strong guitarist arms and probably wouldn't even flinch. You copy his stance as you rack your brain for an acceptable answer.

"Well, you could start with just my name," you say, and he laughs. "But other than that, I don't know."

"Baby?" He suggests, and you almost gag.

"Absolutely not."

"Which do you hate more? Darlin' or baby?"

"Baby."

"Alright, then, darlin'," he says, stepping out of your way. You scoff and walk past him into the hallway. "You know, you really should get a dog or somethin'. It's not safe for you to just leave your door unlocked like that."

"Oh, with all the psychos running around my neighborhood? I can handle myself but thank you for your input." You say, and he laughs as you do one last sweep of your living room to make sure you didn't forget anything. Once again, Joel opens your front door and the passenger side door of his car for you. You can say many things about Joel Miller, but one thing you can't say is that he's not a gentleman. You think it has something to do with his Texas upbringing, or it might just be a testament to the kind of woman his mother is. You don't say anything the whole way to the restaurant, saving up your mental energy to deal with him for the whole night, and he doesn't fight you on it.

When you get there, you can see Ryan waiting near the host stand through the windows, obviously ready to escort you and Joel to the table. You're surprised that the sidewalk isn't flanked by photographers, but you take it as a good sign. Joel parks the car and reaches for your hand as he locks it. You almost smack it away before remembering you're in public and take it in yours. The smooth ring on his middle finger is cool and smooth, a stark contrast to his calloused palms. Ryan lights up when you two step through the doors, and he quickly wraps you in a warm hug. He introduces himself to Joel and holds his hand out for a handshake which Joel reciprocates.

When he walks you to the table set for four, Carolina smiles and stands to hug you and Joel in true Carolina fashion. Joel doesn't hesitate to pat her back and smile as Ryan jokes about having two of the prettiest women in the restaurant sitting at his table.

"Sorry, I'm a hugger," Carolina says as you sit across from them. Joel lays an arm across the back of your chair like this is a perfectly normal thing he does all the time.

"That's alright, ma'am. I don't mind." He says, and Carolina gives you a look.

"Ma'am? I like him already." She says, and you laugh.

Joel settles into the dynamic between the three of you easily and listens as Ryan tells stories from set and press events. It's no small feat that you let Joel meet two of the most important people in your life, and even though you didn't tell him to be, he's on his best behavior. He doesn't try to annoy you or do anything inappropriate in front of them. He compliments Carolina, calling her ma'am even after she told him he didn't have to, and exchanges dude-bro stories with Ryan all night. Except for the arm on your chair, he doesn't make any affectionate moves which you're grateful for.

With Ryan and Carolina there, it almost feels normal. It could also be your third glass of wine helping you relax too. Ryan makes a snarky comment about your drinking, to which you flip him off. "I'd be drinking too if I had to work with you all week!" Carolina says. Ryan feigns a blow to the chest, and she smacks his shoulder. "Did he tell you that Elizabeth started calling you Ryan's movie wife?" She asks, and you laugh.

"God, I hope she doesn't repeat that at school. Otherwise, you," you point at Ryan. "Are going to have a lot to explain to that poor teacher."

"Who's Elizabeth?" Joel asks as you take a bite of food. You hum to let him know you'll answer in a second, but Carolina beats you to it.

"Elizabeth is our daughter."

"And my goddaughter," you jump in. "She's the best kid in the world."

"Well, of course, you think that because you're not there for bedtime," Ryan says, and you roll your eyes.

"You're just mad because she's as stubborn as you are."

"That is... not entirely untrue."

You spend the rest of the dinner laughing and messing with each other. You even catch yourself leaning into Joel's side because he's so warm and comfortable, and the wine is making you deliriously happy. When the bill is placed on the table, you all fight over who gets to pay until Carolina chucks Ryan's card at the waiter. Joel holds his hand over the table, and Ryan shakes it in a form of masculine affection. "You really didn't have to do that, man," Joel says. "Next dinner is on me, alright?" He could be saying it to save face, but the idea that Joel likes Ryan and Carolina makes something in your chest feel warm and fuzzy.

Ryan practically carries Carolina to the car so they can relinquish the nanny for the night, but you and Joel go upstairs to the rooftop bar. You reason that it's high enough to hide from paparazzi, and you also needed an excuse to get some fresh air. You both order water and perch on a couch in the corner. At first, you don't say anything. Not because you're mad at him but because you're worried you'll ruin the night if you do. However, you don't need to exchange words for Joel to see you shivering and put his jacket over your shoulders. You smile and turn to look at him.

"This is the second time you've given me your jacket."

"Want me to stop?" He asks, genuinely curious, and you shake your head. A soft smile takes over his features, and you have to look away before you get sucked in.

"What'd you think of Ryan and Carolina?" You ask as you take a sip of water. His arm rests behind you again, and he adjusts to get more comfortable.

"I really liked 'em. They seem like good people."

"They are. Ryan and I were friends before I even moved to LA," you say. "I think they liked you too."

"Yeah?" He asks, and you nod. You meet his eyes again and hope he can see your sincerity.

"Yeah. Thanks for not being a total dick to them." You say, and he laughs. He puts his water on the table in front of you before reaching across you to dig into his jacket pocket. This close, you can smell the detergent he washed his shirt with and see the freckles faintly littering his skin. He doesn't break eye contact with you as he pulls a pack of Marlboro Reds and a lighter out of his jacket before relaxing into his spot again. Maybe it's the wine in your system or the joy from the night still filtering through your skull, but you don't take your eyes off him as he lights a cigarette. The ember glows brighter as he takes a drag and turns away from you to exhale. His jawline is sharp, and his neck looks especially pretty as he takes a breath.

"What're you thinkin' bout, pretty girl?" He asks, breaking your train of thought, and you smirk as you lean forward. His eyes drop to the neckline of your tank top, giving you the perfect opportunity to snatch the cigarette out of his hand and put it to your lips. He watches as you take a drag, your lipstick staining the filter, and exhale with a sigh.

"Thinking bout you."

"Me?" He raises his eyebrows as you pass him the cigarette back. His thumb traces your lipstick stain before he puts it back in his mouth. "What about me?"

"About how stupid this whole situation is," you gesture vaguely around you. "About how we really shouldn't be so mean to each other."

"You're a sentimental drunk," he says, passing you the cigarette without acknowledging it, and you smile. It really wouldn't be that hard to pull another cigarette out of his pack for you, but he doesn't. Your fingers graze his as you take it, flicking the ash to the side. He waits until you blow smoke out of your nose to mess with the sleeves of his shirt and nod. "But, maybe you're right."

"Oh, say it again." You say, and he gives you a look. You pass the cigarette back even though about half of it is burned down from you two sharing it. His long drags don't help salvage it.

"I really shouldn't have said what I said bout you sleepin' with people to get famous. That was really fucked up, and I'm sorry."

"It was really fucked up. And unoriginal. And fucking stupid. And completely untrue," you say, and he looks a little worried. "But, thank you for apologizing." He nods and offers you the last little bit of glowing cigarette.

"Can we call a truce?"

"A truce?"

"Yeah. We'll stop goin' out of our way to make each other's life fuckin' miserable and move on. Maybe at the end of this, we could even be friends." He says, and you take a deep breath as you take the cigarette from him.

"You always make peace agreements with nicotine?"

"You're my first, pretty girl."

There's that fucking nickname again. It's better than darling, and you should hate it, but the way he says it makes your head swim. You inhale the last drag and stub it out in the ashtray next to your water as you try to get your thoughts under control again. You catch the bartender looking over at you and Joel, and an uneasy feeling crawls up your spine. You swallow it down and look at Joel.

"I'll agree to a truce." You say, smoke leaving your mouth as you talk, and he smiles.

"Should we shake on it?" He asks. You glance between him and the bartender and scoot closer to him. His eyes flick from yours to your lips and back up to your eyes.

"I would say yes," you whisper. "But, I think that bartender figured out who we are."

"So, what should we do instead?" He asks, his voice so low that you almost miss it over your own heartbeat. You want to roll your eyes at how stupid his question is but kiss him instead. His hands come up to your jaw, and you wrap your hand around his wrist to keep him there. There are traces of nicotine and tequila on his lips, but you can't focus on it too hard before his teeth graze your bottom lip. He swallows your gasp and soothes the sudden pain with his tongue. You would push him away and yell at him if it didn't feel so good. You can’t help but wonder what his mouth would feel like on your neck or your thighs. You wonder what pretty girl would sound like in between pants and broken moans. You wonder if he’d leave bruises on your inner thighs for you to find in the morning. The thoughts startle you out of the moment, and you pull away from him, turning to kiss the inside of his wrist.

"'M getting tired. Can you take me home?" You ask. He looks like a kicked puppy but nods anyway. He holds your hand the whole way down the stairs, through the restaurant, and to the car. You make shitty small talk the whole way back to your house like nothing happened, but you're grateful to have moved past the suffocating uncomfortable silence. He taps on his steering wheel again and changes the station when his own song comes on the radio, making you laugh. When he pulls into your driveway, you linger for a moment and look at him through the darkness. "Thank you for being so nice to my friends."

"I really did like 'em," he says. You pick at your nailbeds as you try to find a way to apologize for abruptly ending the evening. You feel bad for some reason. You were actually having a good time together, and then you made it weird. "Can I walk you to your door?" He asks, and you take a deep breath.

"I think I can get myself inside. Thank you, though."

"Welcome." He says as you unbuckle your seatbelt and open the door. Joel's jacket shifts around you, and you suddenly remember that you're still wearing it.

"Oh, here. Let me give you your jacket back before I forget."

"Don't worry about it." He waves you off, and you furrow your eyebrows at him.

"What do you mean don't worry about it? I'm not gonna steal your jacket, Joel."

"You're not stealin' it. You're just borrowin' it, right? I bet tabloids will eat it up if they see you wearin' it," he says. "Besides, it looks better on you anyways." You laugh and shake your head as you adjust your purse on your shoulder.

"Goodnight, Joel."

"G'night, pretty girl." He says. You shut the door and walk up the sidewalk to your front door, secretly cursing that stupid fucking nickname and how weak in the knees it makes you. His car lingers in the driveway until he sees you unlock the door and flicker the front lights at him, letting him know you got in safely. He honks twice before pulling away and driving off into the night.

You make a point to lock your door behind you and lean against it. You let out a shaky breath like it will expel his voice from your head and jump when your phone buzzes in your back pocket. When you pull it out, a bright text from Melanie stares back at you.

Two dates in a row?! You're killing it! This will be over before you know it <3

And attached to her scarily cheerful text is a picture of you and Joel kissing. It's blurry and obviously taken from far away, but it's there nonetheless. You pinch the bridge of your nose and send her a thumbs-up emoji before sending Ryan a "made it home" text and turning your phone off. The image of Joel's teeth scraping your bottom lip burns into your eyelids as you close your eyes and try to figure out where the fuck you go from here.

#one for the money two for the show #the last of us #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel tlou #the last of us x reader #joel miller the last of us #joel miller fluff #joel miller au #the last of us au #tlou au #joel x reader #joel miller drabble #joel miller x female reader #rockstar!joel miller

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plussizefantasia · 6 months

Text

Spookifying

Flufftober Day 27: Decoration

Tony Stark x reader

Word Count: 0.9k

AN: Thank you to @unholyhuntress for letting me know that my post hadn't gone out today. Tumblr deleted my qued posts, I uploaded this as soon as I could.

I can't believe we have less than a week left. As always, Reblogs and Feedback is really appreciated. See y'all tomorrow.

divider credit @royallaesthetics

On October 1st, you decided that you’d try to play a fun little prank on Tony. You had moved in together a few months before and Halloween was going to be one of the first major holidays that you’d celebrate while living together. It was also the first one that you could decorate for.

Tony was not the one who decorated his suite, he had hired an interior designer to design pretty much the whole compound. And while it looked very nice, it wasn’t very personal. Everything was modern and sleek. Blacks and whites and the same shade of blue ran throughout the entire space. It looked straight out of a magazine, but it didn’t look like a home.

So for Halloween, you decided that you would decorate. Without Tony. But you figured it would be too obvious if you did all the decorating at once. That is why, once a day since the first of the month you’ve taken a piece of decor and replaced it. At first, it was small things, you swapped out a random bowl of rocks that was sitting on the bookshelf with a little foam pumpkin. You swapped the towel hanging in the kitchen and even took down one of the paintings in the living room and swapped it with a framed Friday the 13th movie poster. You swapped out boring white candles for ones in pumpkin jars that smelled like cinnamon apples.

You figured that Tony would’ve said something by now. At first, it was fun sneaking around and swapping decor, hoping that when Tony noticed it would be a fun laugh, and then the two of you could decorate the rest of the house together. But he hadn’t said anything, he hadn’t even looked at any of the new decor when you two were spending time together.

You didn’t know what to think. Was he just really oblivious? Did he not care? Was he annoyed that you had swapped things but just didn’t want to say anything? You decided that you would pull out the big guns today and hopefully, he would finally say something.

Tony drank a lot of coffee, but he always drank it from the same mug. It was an Iron Man-branded mug that he was given by a little boy when he visited the children’s hospital for a charity event. He cherishes it, he gets grumpy when it's not clean. And you stole it. You replaced it with a mug that looks like a jack-o-lantern. It even lights up.

You camped out by the island counter, perched on one of the stools that surrounded the side sipped from your own ghost-shaped mug, and waited for Tony to emerge from your room and come to the kitchen.

He walked out in a pair of sweatpants and a Black AC/DC tee shirt that had seen better years. A pair of slippers adorned his feet and his hair was still a little wet in front of the shower. He walked past you, placing a kiss in greeting on the side of your head and running his hand across your lower back as he turned the counter of the floating counter and towards the coffee machine.

You were practically buzzing with excitement as you watched him open the cabinet that held your cups and mugs. He blindly grabbed for the mug that was in the same spot it always was and placed it under the spout that the coffee would come from as soon as the machine finished warming the water.

As he placed it down though you watched him do a double-take. He shot his head back up to the cabinet and turned his head left and right, scanning all the drinkware inside. He searched for his mug for about a minute before he turned towards you.

“Very funny sweetheart. Where is my mug.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You took another sip out of your own mug.

‘You think I haven't noticed what you’ve been doing?” He asked, walking back around the counter and stopping right in front of you, he took a step forward, forcing your legs apart and sliding in between them. “You think I didn’t notice on day one, that there was a bright orange pumpkin on my bookshelf? You think I haven’t noticed you sneaking around and spookifying my place?” As he questioned you, he pushed his face even closer to yours. You couldn’t really think not when he was so close to you, crowding you being. Filling all of your senses with just him.

“Our place.” was the only response you could come up with.

“Where. Is. My. Mug?” Tony asked, pacing kisses on your lips in between each word. Eventually, he pulled back and you could see the soft smile on his face. Now that he wasn’t the only thing you could see or smell, the rest of your brain started to come back online.

“Wait. You noticed? You noticed and you didn’t say anything? Tones I was seriously beginning to doubt your observational skills.” You were incredulous. He had known the whole time? “Why didn’t you say anything?” You asked him.

“Because you were having so much fun. Sneaking around, thinking you were getting away with it. Sweetheart, you were so happy, I didn’t want to burst your bubble.”

“That is sweet. But I’m not going to lie I’m still a little upset.”

“Well we can’t have that, can we?” He adopted a stupidly handsome pout and looked into your eyes, “What can I do, sweetheart I don’t want you upset.”

You smiled widely. “Well Halloween isn’t for a few more days, and I have a lot more decorations hidden in my office. Help me put them up?” And he did. The two of you spent the rest of the day decorating the suite, watching spooky movies in the background, and laughing together.

#tony stark #tony stark x reader #tony stark x plus size reader #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark x you #plus size reader #fanfic #plus size!reader #fluff #x reader #flufftober #marvel fanfiction #tony stark fluff #tony stark imagine #tony stark drabble

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halloweenhuh · 6 months

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Halloween, Huh? Day 3 Reveals

Freaky Friday (I woke up in my enemy's body) Rated M - 8,873 words “So he’s entered some weird-ass, stress-induced fever dream where he’s in Henry’s body. It’s probably, like, the latent guilt Alex feels for the repercussions this will have on his mom’s approval rating even though the whole thing is objectively stupid and people will forget about it in a week.”

Or, a FirstPrince Body Swap AU.

.🎃🎃🎃.

Save a horse - Rated E - 4,616 words This year’s Halloween costume was a no-brainer for Alex. Sure, the Barbie movie was questionable, to say the least, but it doesn’t take away from the fact that the costumes were really fun, and as soon as he saw Barbie and Ken coming out of that store with full-on cowboy outfits, he knew he needed that in his life- in his and Henry’s life, actually.

He even had the costumes custom made for them. And maybe he requested for Henry’s jeans to be a little tighter than the original ones, whatever. He is allowed.

.🎃🎃🎃.

Life is a maze, and love is a riddle - E - 3,093 words Alex, June, and Nora take Henry to his first haunted corn maze.

.🎃🎃🎃.

Taste the Way You Bleed - Rated T - 3,923 words “It’s been 427 years,” June says matter-of-factly.

Bea nods. “Ever since Alex’s first bi-annual vampire orgy.” Her gaze flickers away from her cards and over to the camera. “Henry got flustered and snubbed him, you see.”

“If anyone knows how to hold onto a grudge, it’s Alex,” June sighs.

“They hardly spoke for the next two centuries.” Bea plays a card. “Then Pez suggested a change of scenery, and we all moved to Brooklyn.”

“Now they’re just Like This.”

(A What We Do in the Shadows AU. Two centuries of living together haven't made Alex and Henry any better at getting along, but when a possible vampire hunter moves in across the street, Alex will be dusted before he lets anything happen to his nemesis.)

.🎃🎃🎃.

Heart enough - Rated T - 8,012 words "...there are very few of us who have heart enough to be really in love without encouragement."

Instead of Alex flying to London, Henry is sent to D.C. to do the post Cakegate damage control just in time for Alex and June's annual Halloween party.

.🎃🎃🎃.

Fall Fun - Rated T - 2,713 words Alex and Henry need a break from their hectic NYC life, so they take a long fall weekend to drive around upstate NY/New England. Pretty foliage, corn mazes, hiking, apple cider donuts, cute B&Bs, etc.!

.🎃🎃🎃.

A little note for all of our wonderful creators: if your work was revealed by the Palace today, please be sure to update your publication date to today’s date so it shows up fresh in the AO3 feed.

#red white and royal blue #rwrb #halloween huh #fandom event #prompt fest #asked and answered #red white and royal blue movie #rwrb fanfic #rwrb podfic

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life-is-more-than-just-a-game · 3 months

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Can you write a lovely fluff story between Arisu and female reader who loves get kissed, to get cuddled, to get touched from him (and maybe more) at night?🥰 Maybe something romantic with some kinda sexual parts

♠️ Late night closeness ♠️

A/N: Yo, I'm back and haven't forgot your request yet! As I said in one of my posts, I felt a little sick this one day so I used the next days to recover a little. Plus, I was at work thursday and friday until 6pm, so I was tired and exhausted to be honest. 😬

Nevertheless, here comes your desired story and I hope that you will like it even more. Now that it's finally out. 🫶🏻

Characters: Arisu

POV: fem!reader ; fluff ; slightly sexual content at the end!

Warnings: Includes slightly sexual content, but nothing excessive.

Late at night. To be more precise, it's the perfect time to go to sleep. Just like I always do. Apart from the fact that the surroundings are quiet and empty from dawn to dusk anyway, there is complete darkness all around us. One thing I can't stand since I've been in Borderland. The reason? The red laser beams that shine down from the sky to kill other people whose visas have run out. I know a few idiots who stay up late and look for a higher spot to watch the spectacle. Just to make sure how many will leave this world behind forever - and for sure - today.

Fortunately for me, I also know people who have similar thoughts to mine. People who don't want to see this happen. People who have enough common sense, empathy and decency to look the other way. Call it strength or call it gutlessness.

I want to sleep. Every day, even before the selection takes place. However, my thoughts, which are spinning endlessly in circles, are preventing me from doing so today. My eyes are closed. My back is turned to the window so that I am not even tempted to open my eyes. But as destiny wants it, this shall not be to my disadvantage.

It's a typical time for me to sleep. You lose track of time and space in here, but if I had to guess, it would probably be 10 pm by now. Maybe half past ten at night. So I'm not surprised that the mattress behind me lowers a little, that the blanket is lifted slightly and then gets straightened again. So that I too can enjoy a comfortable and peaceful night's sleep. Just as I deserve- at least according to Arisu.

Arisu and I ... we met here during a game and haven't gone our separate ways ever since. At least not directly. We rarely go to games together for fear that we'll end up in one where we have to kill each other. I know Arisu's story. I know what he's been through. And I don't want him to have to go through it again.

We always promise each other that we'll come back. That we'll meet again at the agreed meeting point and go back to sleep side by side in the evening. The only difference today is that I'm still awake and can therefore feel the dark-haired man snuggling up to me even better.

How he puts his arm around me and presses me closer to him so that my back is pressed tightly against his upper body. As if he's afraid someone might just take me away from him for the night. Or as if he was worried that I would just leave him alone in the middle of the night.

He does that often. Always, actually. Every night when I'm drifting off to sleep. And I like it. Arisu is a shy boy who has a lot of decency as well as respect. He would never do anything against my will or touch someone 'indecently' if he didn't know whether he was allowed to. And even if he was allowed to, he would find it difficult because he wouldn't know how to handle it.

I think he knows that I like this kind of closeness. I'm not sure, but if he pulls me into his arms while I'm sleeping, I think I'll have some reactions that approve of his actions. Be it a smile that creeps onto my lips. It's possible I'll turn towards him to nuzzle my face into the skin of his neck so I can be even closer to him. And then I remember that I once started to giggle a little when Arisu pressed kisses to my cheek, neck and shoulder. I remember, because ... he is doing it again.

"I love it when you try to show me your affection secretly, quietly and silently." As soon as he speaks, I notice how his head shoots up a little and his grip on me loosens. "Surprise, love." I take the chance to turn onto my back in the loose grasp of his arms so that I can see Arisu's face much better- it may be dark, but I don't miss the somewhat indignant look on his silhouette, which makes me laugh a little.

"I thought you were asleep!" he says confusedly, his eyes almost as big as the moon in the sky itself. "How much did you notice...?"

"Everything." Silence. "But I don't think that was enough." I smile up to him, stretching my face a little towards his so that I can give him a little peck on the lips, before staring at him for a second.

"Awkward."

"Awkward?", I asked, bursting into laughter. "What the fuck are calling awkward, Ryohei?! No, that's not!"

"I-It's just ... I thought you sleep, Y/N!" Now he starts giggling himself, so that both of us are just a laughing mess. "You can't pretend just to set a trap for me, that's not how it works!"

"Oh? But it worked very well, don't you think?" It takes a moment for us both to settle down again- until we're both quiet and just smiling to ourselves.

Shortly afterwards, Arisu tightens his grip again and presses me against him once more. He has turned sideways towards me and finally leans his head relaxed against mine. I do the same and start to stroke his arm up and down with one of my hands, while we just lie here together in silence, staring into emptiness. In the soft bed of the tower block that we have made our home for the night.

"I ... actually tried to fall asleep but failed this time." Arisu looks down on me while I look up to him. "It wasn't my plan to trap you, darling. But I have to say, I really do love it, when you cuddle me that much while I'm sleeping, Arisu. And you know, I would be happy when you keep doing this- it makes me feel protected and ... I feel safe in this creepy world when having you by my side." I assume that these words will overwhelm Arisu for a moment, as it's quite a lot at once and … well, very unexpected. "So … I'd be happy if you did that more often. Not just when I'm asleep, but also when I'm awake. I really enjoy your attention and your closeness, so … I think it would be nice if we could build on this ... intimacy." I know it might not be a good attitude.

This is not the world in which you would want to fall in love. We are not in the time warp where you are looking forward to the love of your life, where you want to fall for a person completely and carefree. Here in Borderland, it's a matter of life and death. That's why it might be wrong to tie yourself to one person- morally speaking. But if your heart is yearning and your head is in harmony with it, then it no longer feels as wrong as it really is.

"You know, this ... might getting dangerous, love?", he whispers, making me giving him back a quite "Of course" which makes him sigh a bit. "This … is not something one want to assume, but … you know, it can happen every day that one of us doesn't come back to the other." You can tell from his voice that he feels fear and pain at the thought, which makes me swallow hard- but again I only get out a whispered "I know ...", which should make him realize how seriously I meant what I said to him. "And yet you want me to consciously give you this intimacy?"

"Yes," I said, serious. "Because I love you, Ryohei." This is where I end my caresses on his arm.

Instead, I just look up at him, able to catch his eyes thanks to the light given off by the moon. I notice how his arms wrap around me even tighter in response and I catch myself clawing into the skin of his arm a little, but lightly enough to make sure there's no residue and that I don't accidentally hurt him. He nuzzles his face into my cheek and we close our eyes to enjoy the togetherness for a moment. To forget everything else for just a few seconds.

"I don't think that's something we can decide immediately, Arisu ..."

"There's no need to decide something, I guess." I open my eyes again, looking at him, giving a little "Huh?" right back, before I can catch a smile on his lips. "I ... I cannot deny that I ... like you and that I would very much like to continue to be close to you." I giggle.

"Come here." Without giving it a second thought, I swing myself on top of him and wrap my arms loosely around his neck.

His hands rest on my back from that point on and I make it quick: I pull him into a loving, passionate kiss. I know he needs a moment to realize what's going on, so … I give him the time. And only when he moves his lips against mine do I match his movements and deepen the kiss a little more, burying one of my hands in his mane so that I can push him a little closer to me.

A little later I wander with my lips to his neck, which he frees up for me a little bit by tilting his head to the side. Small kisses are spread over his thin skin before I reach his ear and whisper a soft "Touch me, Arisu ..." into it, making him blush, pretty sure.

"You want me to-"

"I see what you're up to, my love." I'm smiling. "Don't think about it … and just do it." Again I start to work his neck, which makes him hum happily before I add anything else. "When I was sleeping, you weren't afraid to go under my shirt, too." Now I'm laughing.

Because of his shocked "What?!". Because of his big eyes. Because he's a little freaked out all of a sudden.

"How much did you really notice when I thought you were sleeping all this time?!"

"I've been sleeping," I say, "but sometimes I've woken up and just let it pass over me with pleasure~."

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donationwayne · 1 month

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Fuck It Friday

i noticed everyone is mostly doing spicy clips this fuck it friday but i haven't written any buddie smut yet so i hope everyone enjoys a snippet from my upcoming army!eddie fic coming up. It will also be my first multi-chapter fic! (this is from my first draft so if you see any typos please ignore lmaoooo)

i was tagged by @daffi-990 !!!!

Buck and Eddie moved to LA w/ Chris, shortly after Eddie was deployed overseas again. Buck is navigating raising their son on his own in a new state while working a new job and starting at the 118. Things get dicey when Eddie goes MIA overseas.

“Hey Bobby, I hate to ask this, but my Abuela broke her hip while she was watching my son. Would I be able to pick him up from the hospital? His Tia will have her hands full caring for my Abuela.” Bobby blinked at Buck, stupefied. “Your son?” Buck gave the three of them a sheepish smile, turning shy eyes on Chimney and Hen, who were staring at Buck slack-jaw. "Sorry, can you repeat that?” Chimney asked, pretending to clean out his ear with a tinge of sarcasm and shock. “I, yeah—his name is Chris. He’s 7. I’m sorry I never said anything sooner—we were still just trying to settle in. It was a huge change for us to move out here. And on top of that, I didn’t know…” “You didn’t know what it would be like here.” Hen stated. She picked up on the implication behind the half spoken thought easily. In the years since Bobby took over, the crew had grown so much closer, all wound together in one giant, occasionally dysfunctional, family. Even more so, once Athena and Bobby started dating about a year after she and Michael had officially separated. Buck wouldn’t just be introducing himself to a new family, but his son was, which was certainly intimidating. Terrifying even when it was so clear that Buck had some serious self-esteem issues. He was terrified of rejection, and adding an extra party to the equation complicated everything that much more. Buck shrugged and smiled sheepishly. “I never expected LA to become home so fast. Before I really settled in here at the station, I just wanted to be sure it was going to work before I completely committed. I needed to leave my options open in case the hours didn’t work with taking care of him. Texas and LA are extremely different environments, and even though we’d been here through my training, I still wasn’t sure if we’d find a good school.” Buck shakes his head. “I’m sorry I didn’t mention anything sooner, but we just weren’t ready.” “But you’re ready now?” Bobby asked, his expression both unreadable and soft. “Yeah,” Buck glances at the three of them flushing a little. “I really think I am.” “Wait, you’re a Texas boy?” Chim grimaces like he can’t connect the dots to Buck. Buck laughs at his befuddled expression. “Not exactly. I was born and raised in Hershey, Pennsylvania. I ended up in Texas after some traveling.” “Traveling? How did you travel with a whole ass, kid? Aren’t you only like 25?” Buck laughed while watching them struggle with the math of it all. “It's a long story.” One that he was not ready to tell, one that he would not be ready to tell until Eddie was back stateside. Until he was safe in Buck’s arms. “Well, if you want to bring him back here, you’re more than welcome to,” Bobby offered, squeezing Buck’s shoulder comfortingly. “Thank you, Bobby, and I promise this won’t be a regular occurrence.” Buck started to babble. “It's alright, Buck, now go get your son.” Bobby soothed.

I feel like a lot of people have already posted today but if anyone wants to do this who has, tag me so I can see your fic!!!!

#911 #911 abc #buddie #buddie fanfic #buddie wip #911 fic #evan buckley #army!eddie #aubs rambles #fuck it friday

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raplinesprince · 6 months

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She's In The Rain | KNJ

Pairing: Boyfriend!Namjoon x Reader

Genre: Unspecific AU.

Synopsis: Namjoon never broke you, but he'll be the man that helps you heal.

Warnings: Mentions multiple forms of domestic violence. [no actual actions written]

WC: 1.5k

Posted: 1 November 2023

Love is hard.

Love is complicated.

Love gives the power to heal, but it gives the power to destroy.

You were running from it, mile after mile, in the furthest possible direction.

Entirely broken.

A shadow of your former self.

It had been five years.

Then HIM.

Kim Namjoon entered your life in the middle of summer, the days were stifling but the night brought a comforting warmth you both enjoyed. A quiet bike ride in the middle of the night was the last place either of you were expecting to find friendship, never mind love.

But it happened.

You tried to find comfort and solace in many things, it didn't come in the form of movies, food or places that had long since been tarnished with bad memories but much to your surprise, a stranger who came to be so much more.

As summer turned to autumn, bike ride meet ups with smoothies and street foods turned to dinner on Wednesdays and Fridays after work and, as winter came round, Namjoon knew everything there was to know about you and you, him.

Even after all you told him, he stuck around.

He was already head over heals for you and he'd do anything for you to he his.

It had been a long few days, an unexpected workload increase at work had you drained and normally this would be the time you'd tell your date you couldn't make it but you were surprisingly looking forward to a chill night with the person you'd soon realise you were falling in love with. No matter how much you didn't want to love again, it was happening and happening fast.

Before you knew it, you were in his home, side by side, pizza and hands down the worst chick flic you'd ever seen playing in the background, it was comforting in an odd way, or maybe it was just odd to you. Namjoon rested his arm on the back of the sofa, picking at his food with his other hand, You shuffled yourself slightly, leaning into his side.

The smile that made his dimples show, confirmed that it was what he wanted.

"Are you comfortable?" he asked gently, so not to startle you.

You looked up at him with a soft smile and puffy cheeks, nodding as your mouth was full.

Namjoon chuckled lovingly, like Jimin at anything cute that his Yoongi Hyung does. He raised his hand slightly to wipe a bit of sauce from the corner of your lips.

The instant you flinched, he lowered his hand and apologised immediately.

"I'm sorry, you just had a little.." He gestured to the corner of his own lips.

"Oh" you quickly wiped the corner of your lips, a pink blush flushing your cheeks.

He didn't have to ask why you'd flinched. The ache in his chest was nothing he'd experienced before, it was like a burning anger but it was hurt too. It was then that he began to realise just how much you'd been through.

He reached for the remote, pausing the movie before direction his attention back to you.

"Can I be honest with you?"

"Is everything okay? Did I do something? I did something, didn't I? I shouldn't have came, I knew I'd fuck this up, I fucked up, didn't I?" You quizzed him in quick, anxiety filled succession.

"You haven't done anything wrong, just breathe, okay?" Namjoon reassured, a little reluctant to take your hand but did it anyway. You let him but you didn't hold his hand in return, you just let him hold yours.

His smile reassured you a little but not much, it was a response you couldn't help.

"I like you, a lot. A lot more than I let on because I don't want to overwhelm you or make you uncomfortable but I need you to know that I'm here and I'm waiting for you."

"Me?" You don't know why you said that. Of all the things you could have said... Me??

"Yes, you."

"Namjoon, I love spending time with you but.."

"Ah, the but" Namjoon sighed, the look of defeat and hurt written all over his face. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have assumed that this wasn't just friendship."

"It's not like that, I promise"

"It's him, isn't it? The one you told me about?"

You could only nod, the mere mention of him making you physically uncomfortable.

"I want to repair every last piece of you that he broke. That's the difference between him and I. My love is unconditional, free. I'm not gonna fight you when I don't get my way, I would never dream of laying a finger on you like that. Especially for sex, I don't care if I have to wait a week, a month, or a year to be intimate with you."

"Namjoon..."

"Please let me finish" He held your hand that little bit tighter.

You nod for him to go on, tears welling in your eyes.

"Your trauma will never be too much for me. It will never be an effort for me to communicate with you and I don't care if its something as simple as me leaving the room to get my phone or to go to the bathroom, if that's the communication you need from me, you'll get it. I know your trust is broken, I'll help rebuild that too. I don't need you to be the perfect girlfriend or human, for that matter. I just want to help you to heal so I can love on you the way you deserve without you feeling shit or like it's undeserved because you do deserve love, you always have. It just so happens that up until now you've had a diabolical taste in men."

You laugh softly through your tears which of course, Namjoon softly wipes away.

"Look at that, we've already took a step forward, you didn't flinch."

"I'm sorry, I can't always help it." You explain.

"Don't be, I understand." He presses a kiss to your forehead before leaning his on yours. "You're gonna be okay." Butterflies filling his stomach at the fact you even let him.

Your mind was telling you no, a million times no. It will only end up like the past but here in front of you was the man you felt comfortable enough to tell your while life story over a strawberry smoothie the second time you met him. He being a man you already knew to be the most loving, tolerant, gentlest, clumsiest man you'd ever met. You'd be a fool not too, your heart told you.

Maybe it was time to have a little faith.

"Ask me." You blurted before you changed your mind.

"What?" Namjoon looked utterly stunned.

"Ask me." You repeat, a smile growing on your lips.

"I.. like this? now? I had this whole date I wanted to take you on... I..."

You leaned further into Namjoon's space, bringing their lips together. It had felt so natural that any fear disappeared the minute your lips touched his, Namjoon accepted the kiss without a second thought, his hand took yours up to your cheek, his over the top of yours. He thought it would be more comforting that way, it wouldn't ruin the moment. Your hand slipped away from under his, falling to the hem of his shirt to play with to take the nerves away.

His lips were soft, you had to hold back a giggle at the cheese, tomato and vanilla taste of his Chapstick peaking through. It was comforting, easy. You had that buzzing feeling in your stomach again.

Namjoon could sense you easing your anxieties and it didn't take him long to deepen the kiss, asking permission with the pass of his tongue across your bottom lip, which you granted surprisingly in the haze of it all.

It was Namjoon that pulled away first, biting his lip shyly, chuckling softly as he looked down. "Sorry, I.. You.."

"Yeah" you giggled at his inability to form a coherent sentence, burying your face in his chest.

"So yes?" He asked as he pressed his lips to the top of your head.

"Absolutely not. I want that date first." You teased with a playful smirk.

"Jagiiiii" He whined with a pout.

You weren't healed yet but Kim Namjoon was the perfect start.

And he was damn sure that date was going to be the best one you'd ever had.

Tagging: @sopebubbles-reads @lifeinakpopbubble

A/N: The title of this fic coming from She's In The Rain By The Rose. It was suggested to me while writing and helped piece it together. Ignore time stamps.

#namjoon x reader #namjoon fanfic #namjoon fic #bts fic #tw: domestic violence #namjoon hurt/comfort #raplinesprince writes #rm fic #rm x reader

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dearfuturehusbandblog · 1 month

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ZMAN CHEIRUSEINU aka "I'M the terrible communicator!?!?!?!!"

Dear Future Husband,

I hope nobody ever quizzes me on this blog because there are so many things that I've started and stopped writing that never got posted that I literally never remember what I've actually put here...

Not that that's really fully relevant to what I was thinking about writing now, but I currently have two unfinished posts in my drafts folder (amidst 25 others that will probably never get posted) that are just a recap of this year so far.

Because I'm just a kid and life is a nightmare.

Explaining what's going on right now is kind of problematic because I haven't provided the lengthy backstory yet (which is one of the drafts I have yet to finish...)

Suffice to say, MotherLivelyHeart is being a nightmare to me again.

I think I've shared before that MLH and I share a vehicle? If not... yeah, we share a car. I'll have to look through my posts to see if I've explained that situation before, because that's one more thing to check off the "my life absolutely f*ing sucks" list.

Usually this isn't the worst thing in the world because we operate on different schedules and there isn't much crossover when it comes to who needs the car when, and when there is I usually drop her off somewhere, do what I need to do, and pick her up after.

For the record, I HATE when she offers the opposite because I have a history of being abandoned in places waiting for her to pick me up and it gives me such severe anxiety.

So last week on Sunday I asked MLH what her plans were for the next day. I asked this because I overheard a phone call she received on Friday from the dentist's office about an appointment she had on Monday at noon that she hadn't told me anything about and I knew if I was going to ever find out she was going to take the car, I would have to be the one to ask her. So I asked. And wouldn't you believe it, she had a dentist appointment on Monday at noon! Shocker.

Now, I'd been out of work since the beginning of January (again, details will hopefully be in another post) so I had a lot to take care of at work last Monday and I told her that.

We agreed she would have the car for her appointment and I would take the car to work when she got home.

Come Monday afternoon, suddenly everything has changed.

You see, her boss called in sick and she had the day off because she has a specific job that requires her to work alongside her boss and if he doesn't work, she doesn't work.

So she had the day off. Joy.

Of course, did she tell this to me directly? No.

Did she message me this information? No.

I'm just supposed to approach her and ask, "hey, did your boss call in sick and give you the day off?" I guess.

So she went to her appointment and ran some errands and called me while she was still out. Apparently some specific water bottles she can only get in like two places were available at one store about 20 minutes away from our house and she placed a pickup order so she could get them before they were sold out. The order had to be picked up between like 2:30-3:30pm and she called me at around 1:30.

Great.

She picked a pickup time that was directly during the time I was supposed to be at work.

Which she knew.

Because I told her this literally the day before.

So I told her fine. She should do the pickup order and when she got back I would take the car to work.

"Well, I also wanted to go swimming."

*Deep breath* Ok, what time is swimming?

"From 2-9pm."

At this point I didn't know how long I'd be at work because one of the things I had to take care of could be like 4-6 hours and I didn't know if there would be enough time when I was done to get home and let her get to the pool with enough time to swim before they closed.

"Ok, well why don't you go swimming, do the pickup order, and then I'll take the car to work?"

"Well, I want to come home and eat something first."

Ok. So now, what was supposed to be my time to take the car is going to be "stolen" by her coming home (15 minutes), eating something (15 minutes), going to swim (40 minutes), getting the pickup order (30 minutes), and coming back home (20 minutes).

This is TWO HOURS off of my time.

WHICH I HAD TOLD HER I NEEDED LITERALLY THE DAY BEFORE.

So she came home, ate something, and changed into her bathing suit. She left around 2pm for the pool.

I assumed at this point I'd hear from her around 3:30pm that she was around the corner.

But 3:30 came and went.

4:00pm came and went.

4:30pm came and went.

5:00pm came and BigSis messaged that she would be done at work in an hour and could either of us give her a ride home?

MOTHERF@*$%^#$ER

So it's been three hours without an update from MLH, but then she responds "I should be on my way back from the pickup order then."

EXCUSE ME!?!?!?!

She left for the pool at 2pm. THREE HOURS have gone by and she hasn't even gotten the pickup order that was supposed to be picked up between 2:30-3:30pm!?!?!?!!?!?

But she tells me that I'M a terrible communicator.

I was supposed to get the car by 1:30pm latest. It was now after 5pm and I STILL hadn't gotten to work yet.

As much as I hate when she offers to drop me off at work so she can take care of things that will take a few hours, SHE DIDN'T EVEN ASK ME THAT. She made it seem like I would have the car all afternoon to take care of what I needed to at work. And when her plans shifted, she made it seem like I'd have the car by 3:30pm latest.

And let me remind you THAT I TOLD HER THE DAY BEFORE WHAT MY SCHEDULE WAS SO THAT THIS S*** WOULDN'T HAPPEN.

But I'M the terrible communicator.

At that point I was so frickin annoyed already. MLH messaged me "should I get her or just come home" and I was so peeved I said "just get her because if you come home and I take the car I'm not picking her up."

She didn't respond to that message.

Great.

No thumbs up. No "ok." Just nothing.

Then at 6:12pm I get a message from her "car's downstairs in front."

So no message from BigSis that MLH had picked her up and they were heading home. No "we're around the corner." No nothing except over an hour later "take it."

BUT I'M THE TERRIBLE COMMUNICATOR!?

At that point it was too late for me to do some of the things I needed to take care of for work because, again, I was supposed to have been there FIVE HOURS EARLIER. And a friend messaged and asked if I could go with her to Costco, so I said to hell with it and I went to Costco with her.

While I was at Costco I messaged both MotherLivelyHeart and BigSis about what I was getting so we were all on the same page. Included in that message was eggs because, well, I was getting eggs.

I got home at like 10pm and MotherLivelyHeart and BigSis were already asleep. I made a couple of mini salami kugels with some spinach that oddly floated to the top, waited for them to cool, tried 1/4 of one before sticking them in the fridge.

Next morning I open the fridge and there's a new carton of 1.5 dozen eggs. Because apparently MLH went to the supermarket early in the morning and got eggs because "we were out."

DESPITE ME LITERALLY MESSAGING THE NIGHT BEFORE THAT I WAS BUYING EGGS AT COSTCO.

Oh, but it gets better. Because the salami kugel I had tasted the night before was missing.

BigSis was working from home so I asked her about it and she said she had no clue.

So I asked MotherLivelyHeart about it, thinking maybe it slipped out of the fridge, smashed, and she threw it out.

But no.

Guess who ate it.

Yep, the woman who has been suffering from gout and avoiding meat for the better part of a year.

The woman who saw it in the fridge and said to herself "oh, that's one of the broccoli kugels LivelyHeart made for herself for Shabbos that she said wasn't good. I guess I'll eat that for breakfast without asking her if she really doesn't want it because although she's on a weird diet right now, there's no way she's made a meal plan for herself that includes this food item she made for herself."

Because, did she message me to ask if she could have it?

Nope.

Did she knock on my door to ask if she could have it?

Nope.

Halfway through eating it she realized it was salami.

And she still finished the whole thing.

And still at NO POINT did she message me AT ALL to even tell me that she ate it.

I had to find out by inquiring OF HER.

BUT. I'M. THE. TERRIBLE. COMMUNICATOR!?!?!?!

I shouldn't be mad.

It's just food, after all, right?

Except that it's not.

It's a frickin pattern of carelessness and disregard for me as a person.

And I'm so frickin sick of it.

I'm so damn tired.

It wouldn't have killed her to ask.

It wouldn't have killed her to apologize.

And what I haven't really explained here (because again, that's in a draft post) is that I've been on an elimination diet since January 1st which has cut most things from my available food selections.

But is she on an elimination diet?

Nope.

So we have a HOUSEFUL, a PANTRYFUL, and a FRIDGEFUL of food she can eat.

And she chooses the ONE thing I made FOR ME.

Which she KNEW I made for ME.

Instead of the MYRIAD OF THINGS that she can eat that I can't.

Which means that she's not only taken a meal from me, but now I'm at a food deficit from the fridge while she lives in abundance.

BUT. I'M. THE. TERRIBLE. COMMUNICATOR.

So let's leap forward to today.

Today was Shabbos mevorchim. Pesach is in two weeks.

And MotherLivelyHeart decided we are going to change over the kitchen two weeks ahead this year.

So she scheduled her cleaning lady to come tomorrow (Sunday) to help clean the kitchen so it can be turned over.

Did she take into account that this would be motzei Shabbos and that we'd have to make Shabbos and that would involve dirty dishes and use of the stove/oven and pots and pans?

Yeah, no.

Did she take into account that the way she wants to clean the oven requires the oven to be self-cleaned before and after which takes a good several hours and creates so much smoke that we'd have to keep the windows open and also it's like 40F right now and she also wanted to go to sleep early because the cleaning lady is coming at like 8am?

Yeah, no.

BigSis went over the oven cleaning thing with her and she exclaimed "are you kidding me?! Then why am I having the cleaning lady come tomorrow?!"

BECAUSE YOU SCHEDULED HER WITHOUT CONSULTING US.

BECAUSE THERE WAS NO COMMUNICATION.

DO YOU SEE A FRICKIN THEME HERE!?!?!!?

Oh, but there's more. Because there's always more.

Thursday was another nightmare day for various reasons. One of which was that I ran errands with MotherLivelyHeart.

She scheduled an appointment for smackdab in the middle of the time I told her I'd be working.

YES. AGAIN.

And she wanted to drop me off at work and pick me up when I was done.

Well absofrickinlutelynot, thankyouverymuch.

I was supposed to work until 6pm.

I had told customers I would be available until 6pm.

Her appointment was scheduled for 6pm.

So of course "I need the car at 5:30pm."

She wanted to drive me to work earlier so that she could take the car at 5:30pm to her appointment that wouldn't be done until 7pm and then come get me an hour and a half after I was done working.

But I was supposed to trust that she wouldn't run errands or dilly dally around and that she'd actually get me at 7:30pm, which we know is never the case.

So I told her no, I'd be taking the car to work. But I would notify the customers I'd only be there until 5:30pm, at which point I'd get her and drive her to her appointment. Then while she was in her appointment I could do the Shabbos shopping, since it seemed pointless to have to wait for her to come home again before I could go out and shop.

For various reasons, we had three stores we needed to go to, one of which was about 20 minutes in the opposite direction of where her appointment was. I figured I could go there first, then on my way back to get her I could run by the other two stores, get her and then we'd go straight home.

But no.

Because it was raining and people apparently don't know how to drive in the rain. So despite me taking the highway, which should have cut like 10 minutes out of the ride each way, it took me about 30 minutes to get to that first store, which I was in for maybe 10 minutes, and as I was checking out MLH messaged "my appointment is almost over, where are you at?"

So all I had time for was turning around and going straight to get her.

Which, fine, whatever.

One of the stores we went to literally just for chicken.

And it was chicken for her because she wanted a specific type of breaded chicken for Shabbos.

So I figured I'd run into the store and grab it while she stayed in the car.

But no.

Because while I was unbuckling, she was unbuckling. Because she decided to come in.

So she went to look at side salads and I went to the chicken section where I waited but she never showed up.

Then I get a message from her.

"Where are you?"

Excuse me???? WHERE ARE YOU, WOMAN???

I told her I was at the chicken section waiting for her and she said "I already checked out. I'm going back to the car."

WE LITERALLY WENT TO THIS STORE TO BUY HER CHICKEN.

SHE CAME IN WITH ME.

PRESUMABLY TO BUY HER CHICKEN.

But she's checked out already!? WITH WHAT!?

Oh. Apparently something to eat. Because she's hangry.

Which she, OF COURSE, DID NOT TELL ME.

Fine. Whatever.

So I bought her frickin chicken.

And then on the way home she got mad at me about three driving-related things that were out of my control (like the car started making a weird noise that might be the muffler, and there was a huge pothole I couldn't avoid, and I was coming to a stop at an intersection when some lady rounded the corner quickly and we barely missed colliding...) which resulted in her yelling at me that she hates the way I'm driving.

So, yeah, that was a fun ride home.

*EYEROLL*

Anyway, on the way to her appointment she said "we never worked out a Shabbos menu."

I told her the same thing I've told her almost every week over the last three months: I'm eating differently from you guys, so you just tell me what you want and I'll grab it from the store, because I already have set aside what I'm going to eat.

And she tells me "my boss has off tomorrow, so I can cook."

Which is perfectly fine in my eyes because I'm still recovering from an injury (again, that's one of the drafted posts...) and I also had a horrendous cold for the previous two weeks so I'm still trying to get back to baseline. Any pressure off me is appreciated.

We basically worked out that for shabbos we'd do a big soup for Friday night (which I would make), then she wanted chicken (obvs) and I had bought green beans at Costco I told her she could have, and then Shabbos lunch would be fish and salady stuff.

Well, Friday rolls around.

The day already sucked because I tried adding some vegetables back into my diet during the week that are apparently problematic for my digestion. Fun.

But then MotherLivelyHeart decides to stick to her arbitrary Pesach cleaning schedule which says to clean the milchig dishes she's had piling up all week. So of course she decides to do this at like noon and doesn't finish the job and there are still milchig dishes in the sink at 3pm when I need to go in and make the soup.

Add onto that, one of my "chores" is the pareve dishes, some of which have been piling up too and also need to be done, which she feels the need to remind me of, despite her milchig dishes still filling the sink.

So I go in around 3pm and just start cooking, using the small bit of counter space that's available to me.

She decides that's the perfect time to finish the milchig dishes.

FINE. WHATEVER.

She gets them out of the way and reminds me YET AGAIN about the pareve dishes.

FINEWHATEVER.

So around 4pm I'm back in the kitchen, doing the pareve dishes, of which I only got about half done because it was causing pain and I still had to cook.

So I pivoted and did the soup.

But nothing else had been cooked yet.

So I made the green beans.

And I had to separate the soups so I could add things to theirs that I can't eat.

At this point I'm still annoyed from her the day before, my insides are so unhappy with the newly tested foods, I'm in pain from the injury, and I'm trying to cook for Shabbos.

Around 6pm I asked BigSis if she could help with the chicken. She was like "I STILL HAVE TO SHOWER!!!" As though she didn't have all day for that and somehow me needing help is my fault. She said "if you had asked me like three hours ago I could have done it."

Except that three hours ago, the milchig dishes were still filling up the sink, so.... what exactly do you expect from me!?

Sometime a little earlier when MotherLivelyHeart had been in the kitchen it was clear I wasn't doing so well and she asked what was wrong and I described the pain and she was like "I'm sorry" and then disappeared.

So then she gets a "20 minutes to candle lighting" alarm on her phone, and she's been trying to light early in zchus of the hostages and chayalim, so she calls out "20 minutes to licht benchen." Which I responded to but she didn't hear, obviously, because she yelled again "LivelyHeart, did you hear me!?"

To which I responded an annoyed "YES!!" and she was like "you don't have to talk to me that way! I clearly didn't hear you. And BigSis and I can make Shabbos on our own, you know."

Which, MYGODWOMAN. YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO.

My responsibility based on our conversation was the soup.

ZE HU.

SHE was supposed to do the chicken and the green beans and whatever else they wanted.

So now she's annoyed at me because I'm annoyed at her for not doing the thing she was supposed to do, but I'M the one in the wrong.

FINE. Whatever.

In the end I didn't do the chicken.

I literally didn't have the strength for it, let alone the energy.

Not that it was really missed at the meal, but she was a bit annoyed and gave me that same "BigSis and I can cook for Shabbos on our own, you know." To which I responded "You said you were going to cook." I literally don't even remember what her response was.

Well, fast forward through Shabbos to tonight because I asked her if she wanted the chicken for melava malka or if we should stick it in the freezer for a week since it's KFP.

She wanted it for melava malka.

Which, fine, whatever.

I told her if she could bread it, I would cook it.

She got gloves, she got bowls, she got the chicken, and she got eggs.

She did not get the other ingredients she needed for the breading. Or a plate to put it on. Or a fork.

She sat down at the table and then asked me to get the other ingredients.

Which, fine. Whatever.

I got an interesting piece of mail that I'll discuss in another post when I know more what's going on with it, but it basically called my attention to research something. So I was on my computer off to the side while she was breading the chicken.

The next thing I know, she's frying the chicken.

I went into the kitchen and asked her why she was frying it when I told her I would do it for her since cooking usually exhausts her, and she got all frustrated and exasperated at me and said something like "I DON'T HAVE ALL NIGHT TO WAIT FOR YOU."

And I was like, "what are you talking about!? I was waiting for you to finish breading it! you didn't tell me you were done!"

Which just pissed her off more.

BECAUSE. I'M. THE. TERRIBLE. COMMUNICATOR.

But this is the time of year we celebrate freedom, right?

This is the time of year we thank Hashem for rescuing us from a horrible situation.

Well, where's mine?

We're supposed to celebrate every year as though WE ALL left Mitzrayim.

As though we were ALL saved.

But I am not saved.

I have never been saved.

The stupidity I've just described above is just a piece of the insane patterning of my entire life.

I have no escape from this nonsense.

And I'm just so done with all of it.

I want it all to be over.

I want it all to go away.

Where's my freedom?

Where's my salvation?

I really have to finish those other two drafts, because this isn't even the clearest picture of what I've been dealing with since 2024 started. It's barely April and I just want this secular year to be over.

There are a couple of people who have suggested guys to me over the last several months and, although they're not really what I'm looking for, right now I just don't have the emotional energy for a new relationship. I'm just so burned out from this one that I deal with every frickin day of my stupid life, which of course I can't even tell these people.

So... dear future husband, I hope you can hang in there, because I don't know when I'll be ready for you.

But maybe by then I'll be a good communicator.

-LivelyHeart

And now for the story after the story:

So, after that disaster of a drive back from the store on Thursday night, we got home around 8:30pm and although she got something small to eat from that second supermarket I knew that MotherLivelyHeart hadn't eaten anything since lunch so when I made dinner for myself I made a second bowl for her. I brought it to her and she said "oh... you didn't have to do that." Not a lot of enthusiasm there.

She didn't eat it for about a half an hour, by which time it was probably cold, and the next thing I knew, she was in bed going to sleep without another word about how it was.

Now, I don't demand praise or feedback for anything I cook, but she usually makes a comment about whatever I make, so I found it odd that she was silent on the matter.

On Friday I went to ask her about something else and while I was talking to her I asked how her dinner was the night before and she said something along the lines of, "it was... interesting. ground chicken just doesn't cook well, it's not your fault. you prepared it well, it's just not that good. ground turkey is better."

No "thank you," no "it was sweet of you to think of me," no "I appreciate the effort especially considering that you're working through the pain right now."

Just meh.

I love when I'm appreciated.

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