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#eminem t-shirt
vainraven · 1 year
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Dear Buyer,
𝕰𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖒 𝖁𝖎𝖓𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖊 𝕿-𝖘𝖍𝖎𝖗𝖙
✅This classic unisex jersey short sleeve tee fits like a well-loved favorite. Soft cotton and quality print make users fall in love with it over and over again. These t-shirts have-ribbed knit collars to bolster shaping. The shoulders have taping for better fit over time. Dual side seams hold the garment's shape for longer. 🎯100% Airlume combed and ringspun cotton (fiber content may vary for different colors) 🎯 Light fabric (4.2 oz/yd² (142 g/m²)) 🎯 Retail fit 🎯 Tear away label 🎯 Runs true to size
✅KEY FEATURES 🎯With side seams: Located along the sides, they help hold the garment's shape longer and give it structural support 🎯Ribbed knit collar with seam: Ribbed knit makes the collar highly elastic and helps retain its shape 🎯Shoulder tape: Twill tape covers the shoulder seams to stabilize the back of the garment and prevent stretching 🎯Fiber composition: Solid colors are 100% cotton except Ash - 99% cotton and 1% polyester, heather colors and Solid Black Blend are 52% cotton, 48% polyester (Athletic Heather and Black Heather are 90% cotton, 10% polyester)
✅CARE INSTRUCTIONS: Non-chlorine: bleach as needed; Tumble dry: low heat; Iron, steam or dry: medium heat; Do not dryclean; Machine wash: cold (max 30C or 90F).
✅SIZE GUIDE: 🎯Size XS:
Width, cm: 41.90
Length, cm: 68.60
Sleeve length, cm: 21.90 🎯Size S:
Width, cm: 45.70
Length, cm: 71.10
Sleeve length, cm: 22.60 ️🎯Size M:
Width, cm: 50.80
Length, cm: 73.70
Sleeve length, cm: 23.30 🎯Size L:
Width, cm: 55.90
Length, cm: 76.20
Sleeve length, cm: 24.00 🎯 Size XL:
Width, cm: 61.00
Length, cm: 78.80
Sleeve length, cm: 24.70 🎯Size 2XL:
Width, cm: 66.00
Length, cm: 81.30
Sleeve length, cm: 25.40 🎯Size 3XL:
Width, cm: 71.10
Length, cm: 83.80
Sleeve length, cm: 26.40 🎯Size 4XL:
Width, cm: 76.20
Length, cm: 86.30
Sleeve length, cm: 27.40
❤️IMPORTANT NOTE: If we do not receive your personalisation details within 24 hours, we will have to cancel your order and you will have to place your order again.
❗NOTE:
All products are distributed by ©VainRaven in foreign markets✅
Delivery time and cost will depend on geographical location. We hope you understand for a long delivery and high price!❤️
Please as all questions before purchasing your item.❤️
AFTER PURCHASING PLEASE LEAVE A REVIEW AFTER PURCHASING❤️
❤️Thank you for visiting ©VainRaven. I hope you are satisfied with our products❤️
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smutty-books · 11 months
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Not over this performance!!!!!!!!!!!! I keep watching all the fan vids. And then Ed Sheeran HQ has this once!!!!!! The reaction of the crowd when Em comes out is so just gratifying. That’s his people, his hometown and the fact that they supported and had such a reaction to Em performing for them again, well I hope it bodes well for more performances
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phoward89 · 1 month
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Happy (late) 420! I tried to get this out yesterday, but that didn't happen. Anyways, here's some Dealer!Coryo x Reader in honor of 420.
Weed, drugs, guns, cussing, Coriolanus Snow being Coriolanus Snow, p in v, slight degradation?, um that's bout it
Series Masterlist
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Chapter 1:
“Your brother's drunk again?” Coryo, your weed dealer and fuck buddy, asked as he flung the door to his section 8 apartment open as soon as he saw you thru the peephole. 
He knew what was wrong with you just by the sullen look on your face. Anytime you had that look on your face it was because your brother was either drunk and fighting with you or your ex (who Coryo nearly beat to death after the last time he cheated on you- which if you ask the dealer shouldn't have happened cause only a fucking idiot would stick their cock in a skeezy cunt when they've got your perfect, tight cunt to fuck on the regular) did something (like cheat) to upset you. 
After getting beat within an inch of his life, your ex skipped town. Rumor has it that he went to California. So, Coriolanus knows that there's only one reason you're on his doorstep looking like an anxious mess: your brother, Rein.
“Yep.” You popped your tongue.
“Come in.” Coriolanus ordered, moving aside to make room for you to enter his shithole. As you walked by him and into the apartment that smells heavily of cigarettes, weed, incense, and rose scented glade plug-ins, your favorite drug dealer announced with a lopsided smirk, “I was just ‘bout to roll a joint.”, while shutting and bolting the door.
“It's been a while since I smoked. I could use a few hits to calm down.” You admitted, making a beeline to the lumpy couch and in extension the glass coffee table nestled right in front of it.
A glass coffee table with chipped corners that was cluttered so much that the glass could barely be seen. It was a cluttered mess of magazines, rolling papers, plastic sandwich baggies, large bags of weed, a scale, a few empty beer bottles, an empty chip bag, a red solo cup, zippo, and a cheap ashtray.
Sometimes you wonder about Coryo, who could be a dead ringer for Eminem. Hell, his looks got him the nickname of Paneminem. You know, cause he's the Slim Shady of your small bumfuck Colorado town of Panem. 
A town that both you and Coriolanus Snow, known to a very small select few as Coryo, hate with a passion. 
But, anyways, sometimes you wonder about the dealer with the platinum buzzcut (which you were shocked to find out was his natural hair color) that lives alone. He doesn't have a lot of friends and the only family he's got is a cousin, Tigris, that's a stripper at Pluribus’ club. But they had some kind of falling out after he got a dishonorable discharge from the army and barely talk anymore.
And you only know about Tigris and his brief stint in the military cause you curiously asked him about his dog tags, chewing on the corner of them during a half-high afterglow while cuddling with him.
“What dumb shit did Rein do this time, baby girl?” The hardened drug dealer asked, following you over to the sofa. A sofa that has a board under it to level and prop up the saggy seat cushions.
“He’s pissed that I got laid off and can't find another job.” You told Coryo as the two of you sat down on the couch, making it dip under your combined weight.
“So, does that mean you're gonna start helping your favorite dealer sling shit for cash?” Coriolanus slightly chuckled, slipping his hand underneath the hem of his oversized white T-shirt and pulling his gun out of the waistband of his baggy jeans; placing it down on the coffee table.
You've seen the black Glock so many times, gosh it must be at least 50 by now, since you started buying weed and hooking up with Coryo. Him handling the weapon around you doesn't even phase you anymore. It should. It really should, especially since you weren't raised around guns or violence- but apparently the more time you spend around Snow (Coryo's surname and one of his street names- the other being Snowball) the more you're being corrupted by him.
Unknown to you, Coryo doesn't want you to become corrupted by him. He thinks you're a really sweet girl that had some shit luck of being abandoned by your mom and raised hovering above the poverty line by your much older half-brother and his girlfriend. Despite your crappy conditions, you’re as sweet as honey. Or at least to Coriolanus you are.
For some reason, the hardened drug dealer that's a couple of years older than you wants to keep you safe from any and all dangers in the world. Hell, Snow's not supposed to have feelings for you, a girl that occasionally buys weed from him; comes over to his place to vent about her life, but he does.
And that's not good because feelings are dangerous in his world. The drug underworld. The side of town, hell life, that decent people don't see. 
Coryo's got people that would love to put a bullet in him; the cops also want to lock him up for at least half his life too. Having you around him so much, getting wrapped up in shit isn't good at all. It's not good for you or for him. It'll only end up bad and in heartbreak.
And Snow can't have that. Oh, he has to protect you from his world. The world of drugs and all other illicit activities that transpire in the criminal underworld. You're just too sweet to have as a permanent fixture in his life, which is why he doesn't hang with you unless you're buying weed from him. He won't actively seek you out, despite the fact that you always bring a smile to face and warm his cold, black, dead, frostbitten heart.
“Coryo, you're my only dealer.” You dryly remind him, watching as he perches on the edge of his couch; leaning forward to grab the items he needs from his chipped coffee table to roll the joint with. “And no, I'm not gonna help you deal.”
“Only dealer, favorite dealer: same thing from how I look at it.” Coriolanus retorts while his long fingers nimbly work to fill and roll a joint for the two of you to share. “It was a joke, baby. I wasn't serious.” Your dealer dryly told you before giving out a lecture of, “My line of work’s dangerous, babe. I'd never send you out into that shit just to make a buck.” Waggling a long weed scented finger in your face, he added in, “And I would've fucked some goddamn sense into you if you’d agreed to my fake offer.”
You’re not stupid, you know that Coryo’s not just a weed dealer, but that he sells some hard shit and it makes his job- hell his life- dangerous. But you don't care. You accept him as he is. You're not trying to fix him; you're fine with him the way he is. You're also fine with being his customer/sorta friends with benefits.
You know that Coryo has a lockbox full of various pills and coke that he deals. The box is shoved in the side table, that looks like a weird ass octagon, caddy cornered between his sofa and a heavily duct taped easy chair. You saw it once when you were over, crying about being cheated on by your ex and needing some weed (and maybe some big dick) pronto to make you feel better and calm you down. 
Coryo had a customer he needed to meet and sell some powder to, so he prepared the crap right in front of you. After cutting the white powder finely with a credit card (that you're sure he stole from somebody) and portioning it up in a baggie, he made you swear to never touch the hard shit. He even said that he'd shoot whoever dares to give you the shit right between the eyes if he ever found out that you dabbled in the hard shit.
And then he sent you on your way with a few joints and a promise that he'd stop by to check up on you; see if you need anymore post getting cheated on weed to help feel better with. He kept good on that promise, he stopped by and took you out for a ride. A ride that ended with you desperately riding his cock in the backseat of his car- which was parked in some alleyway in a seedy part of town.
“Calm down, Coryo. God, don’t pop a vein over there.” You sarcastically tell the platinum blonde while he finishes rolling the joint. Watching him pick up his zippo off the table, you assure him.“You don't need to worry about me being in danger from the big bag drug dealers; I'll only make my money legally.”
“Y/N…” Snow mumbled warningly, slipping the joint between his lush lips and lighting up. Taking his first hit, he sighs, “The more you hang ‘round here, baby girl, the more you might be putting your sweet lil ass in danger.” 
“I’m a big girl, Snowball. I can take care of myself, plus I trust you and know that you'd never hurt me.” You said, watching him take his second hit. 
Passing the joint over to you, he dead ass says, “I got enemies; if they think we're a thing they'll fuck you up to get to me.” Shaking his head, he leans his elbows on his knees (of course he was manspreading- he always does when sitting on the sofa). “Cops would haul you in; jam you up just to try and catch my ass.”
Your brows furrow at his words. At their implications.
“So, what, you don't want me coming ‘round anymore?” You asked, brushing your fingertips against his rough, calloused ones as you took the joint from him. “Want me to find somebody new to buy weed from?” You took your first hit, coughing slightly. “Maybe I'll drive a couple hours to Denver and buy from a regulated dealer: from the man.” You threatened, taking your second hit and passing the joint to the broad shouldered man next to you.
“You're not driving down there for weed. You hear me?” Coryo sternly ordered before taking a deep hit off the joint.
“Then don't say you don't want me around, Coryo.” You countered, watching your dealer sexily blow a large billowing cloud of smoke from his perfect O shaped mouth.
“I didn't say that, babe.” Coryo snapped, his voice a bit hoarse from smoking weed all day (or at least you think he's been smoking all day). “I don't wanna have a heavy talk while smoking. Let's table this for now, yea?” He told you before taking a second, even longer hit from the joint perfectly pinched between his thumb and forefinger.
“Yea, my life's stressful enough.” You agreed, taking the offered joint from Coriolanus as soon as he exhaled a lungful of smoke.
Coryo didn't say a word, just leaned back into his couch and snaked an arm to rest behind you. He gave you a lazy thin lipped smile as you took your hit. His icy eyes, usually void of emotions, were shinning with fondness as he watched you instead of whatever bullshit was on his tv. 
A very nice large flatscreen that somebody gave him for payment. Fuck, the damn thing was worth nearly a grand since it was some top of the line Samsung smart tv. Snow knew it must've fallen out the back of a truck, but he didn't give a shit. Meant he didn't have to use he crappy tablet to watch stuff anymore.
But instead of watching tv, his attention was on you. God, Coriolanus loves watching you smoke. He thinks you're so sexy when you smoke. This cute, lil sweetheart taking in a large burning lungful and letting it waft out of your mouth expertly. 
It turned him on.
“It's not polite to stare, Coryo.” You remind the menacing man next to you, your tone a bit teasing, while passing him the joint after finishing your hits.
“I'm not staring, so don't know what your talking about.” He firmly denied, acting like he wasn't just caught ogling your gloss coated lips, while taking the joint.
You're starting to feel a bit hazy from the weed, unlike Coryo you don't smoke around the clock so a few hits mellows you out quickly, and lean your head against his shoulder.
“Your such a fucking lightweight.” The platinum blonde chuckles, shaking his head with a hint of an taunting smirk on his lips. 
“Not everyone can smoke and fuck all day, Snowball.”
“I don't smoke and fuck all day. I'll let you know that if I don't sling my shit then I ain't making any bank.” Coryo sneered, sounding a bit insulted by your remark, before taking a quick hit and holding the joint out to you.
Your fingertips brush over his, sending shockwaves through both of your buzzed bodies, as you take his offering. “You know, I'm still having a dry spell.” You reluctantly sigh between taking your two puffs and passing him back the joint.
Coryo's not stupid, he knows why you've been having problems finding somebody to hookup with let alone date. Word on the street is that he's sweet on you. That you’re Snowball's baby. Or at least Plinth and Creed, his only friends that are also dealers, told him that's the word.
Been the word since somebody saw you and him at some house party few weeks back- disappearing into a bathroom together for a good 15 minutes or so (yea, long enough to fuck).
“Maybe I can do something ‘bout it then, yea?”
“Maybe.” You coyly shrugged.
Even tho both you and Coryo knew that as soon as the joint turned into a roach; was snubbed into the ash trash, you'd be making out and undressing each other on his sofa.
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“Hmmm…Coryo, that feels so good…” You loudly moan, feeling your cunt twitch and grow wetter, as you ride Coryo's cock.
Coryo's sucking on one of your titties while roughly squeezing the other in his large, calloused hand. His other hand is holding onto your ass like it's the most prized jewel into the entire world. 
“God, Coryo, I needed your cock so bad.” You admit to him, your voice nothing more than a pathetic mewl, as your wrap your arms around his neck- one hand pressing into the back of his platinum buzzcut while the other holds the back of his neck- while you leverage yourself to bounce faster on his dick.
His cock, very long and thick with veins that catch every velvety piece of your walls, fills your cunt up perfectly; turns you into a whinny mess. His tip hits against your cervix, causing the coil to begin to tighten inside of your lower body with every move. And the way his cock presses into your g-spot just right- oh fuck he's completely ruined you for men.
Whether you want to admit it or not, you're addicted to Coryo's cock. He's the only man that can fuck you just right. God, you would be all hot and bothered over your dealer.
Your nipple falls from Coryo's mouth with a loud, wet pop. He looks up at you, baby blues smoldering midnight with lust, and slaps your ass. “Fuck, baby. Ride my cock, ride my cock like the lil slut you are.” His hand slides over your chest, leaving one tit and going to kneed the other, as he lands two quick slaps to your ass. “Baby, your cunt feels so tight and good. Ride me, baby, ride me.”
“Fuck…Coryo…think I'm gonna cum.” You breathing tell him, forehead pressing down against his; hair curtains around your faces, as you grind your hips faster against his.
“Yea?” He asks, his voice heavy from lust and hoarse from smoking weed, as he places his hands on either of your hips. “Hold on, baby. I'll make ya cum.” Coryo tilts his chin up, sloppily kissing you, before digging his fingers into the meat of your hips and thrusting fast and hard up into you.
“Fuck!” You scream, feeling your insides literally getting rearranged, as Coriolanus’ cock plunges deep inside of you. Deeper then you’ve ever felt it before (and that's saying something since the man’s cock always leaves an imprint in your lower stomach everytime you fuck) and it's making you see stars. 
Your arms are tightly wrapped around Coryo's neck in a vice grip as he pounds up into your cunt at such a strong, punishing pace. He's fucking you so hard and good that you can feel the rubber band inside of you get ready to snap. “Coryo…I'm gonna cum.” 
“Cum, baby. Be my good lil slut and cum on my cock.” Coryo orders, his baritone rough and raw, as he presses you against his chest while bucking his hips at lightning speed.
And you do. You cum hard, moaning a string of curses mixed with Coryo's name, before leaning limply against him and panting to catch your breath. Your head's pressed into the crook of his neck and he's now holding holding your back to keep you afloat while chasing his own high. Coryo pistons his cock in and out of you quickly before groaning a couple fucks and your name while shooting his hot load of thick pearly ropes of cum deep into your cunt.
“Damn…” Coryo trailed off, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath.
Your head's still resting in the crook of his neck as you unwrap one of your arms from around his neck. Running your hand up and down his toned chest, you blurt out, “I'm hungry.”
“Of course, you get the munchies now.” Coryo scoffs, shaking his head. “I got some pizza rolls in the freezer, I'll nuke us some in a lil bit. Okay, babe?” He offered while trying to enjoy his blazed out afterglow moment with you. 
Honestly, he just wanted you to cockwarm him for a while because he didn't know when you'd be in that position again. 
And Coryo knows that he's going to have to cut you loose eventually. You're a liability in his line of work. Snow, the cold hearted drug dealer that doesn't think twice about popping a cap in somebody's ass, has a soft spot for you. Hell, to be honest he cares for you.
He cares a lot.
And that's dangerous. Feelings are a weakness that he can't afford in his life. The thought of you being used against him makes him sick.
And Coriolanus will never forgive himself if something bad happened to you because of him.
He knows that he'll have to cut you loose soon. Put his combat boot covered foot down; lay down some rules for the two of you to abide by. Something like he'll drop your weed off at your house then leave type of deal.
But right now, for a few minutes, he just wants to bask in your warmth.
And for right now, you're Snowball's baby.
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Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @harvey-malfoy @tian-monique @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @zombicupcake3 @jacesvelaryons @tempt-ress
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every inch ~ eminem
word count: 2262
request?: yes!
@sowhatariyana​ “hi can i send in a request for eminem x black curvy fem reader first time and immediately being infatuated with each other.”
description: in which he shows every inch of her body the love it deserves when they are intimate for the first time
pairing: eminem x female!reader
warnings: swearing, smut (oral f receiving, unprotected p in v; wrap it before you tap it kids), rpf (if you don’t like, move along)
masterlist (one, two, three)
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They both knew where this night was going. It had been planned for at least a week, so the anticipation was strong by the time the night had finally arrived. After months of dating, (Y/N) and Marshall had planned a special night to finally have sex for the first time.
To most people, that may not seem like a big deal. They were two grown adults in a relationship, sex was basically an expectation for most in their situation. But their relationship was far from a normal one. Marshall had gone on tour shortly after they had gotten together, so the early stages of their relationship happened mainly through phone calls and text messages. On top of that, it had been a long time since either of them had been in a relationship, and neither of them engaged in meaningless hook ups. So, it was the first time in general that either of them had been intimate in a long time.
The night had been planned for when Marshall got home from tour. They planned to order in dinner to Marshall’s place, and see where the night took them - although they both knew where it was going. It was just a question of how long they could wait to get there.
(Y/N) was looking at herself in her bathroom mirror. While waiting for Marshall’s text to let her know he was home, she had been trying to pick out an outfit for the evening. She had bought a lingerie set to surprise Marshall with. It was lacy and firetruck red, showing off just enough of her features while also leaving something to be desired. Finding what to ear over the lingerie was the real issue. She felt like she had gone through her entire closet and nothing felt right still. She was currently wearing a pair of ripped skinny jeans and an off the shoulder long sleeve crop top, with the straps of the red bra showing as a little tease for what was to come. it didn’t feel right, but it was the best (and the last) of the outfits she owned, so she went with it.
When her phone finally dinged, she basically ran to her car. It was hard to restrain herself and drive the speed limit to his house. her body was tingling with anticipation. She had no idea how they were going to restrain themselves until after dinner.
She pulled up to his house, her heart already pounding hard against her chest. She walked up to his front door. She raised her fist to knock, but before she did, the door opened. Marshall was stood there, having heard her pull up and rushed to the door in the same level of anticipation that (Y/N) had been feeling. They looked at one another for a long time, not saying a word. Marshall let his eyes trail over her, taking in every inch, every delicious curve of her body. He had missed seeing her so much, and the thought of being able to see that body naked soon made his impatience grow.
“Hi,” (Y/N) finally said, breaking their silence.
“Hi,” Marshall responded before grabbing her and kissing her. It took (Y/N) by surprise, but she happily kissed him back. It was a moment they had both been longing for for months, and it was definitely living up to the desire. Marshall took (Y/N) into his arms and growled against her lips, “Fuck the dinner.”
(Y/N) was so dazed that she didn’t understand what he meant at first. It wasn’t until he was pulling her into his house and whisking her towards his bedroom that she finally understood. The minute they crossed the threshold, his lips were on hers again, devouring her in a passionate kiss. Her hands grabbed at the t-shirt he was wearing, wringing it through her fists and tugging desperately. He showed mercy and stripped himself of his shirt. His skin was already hot to the touch as she pressed her hands against his bare chest. His hands wrapped around her back and slipped under her shirt. She lifted her arms so he could take her shirt off.
His eyes raked over her breasts, pushed up a it by the bra, giving her ample cleavage. She smirked. She knew this lingerie would get him.
He reached to take off her bra, but she stopped him. “I have a set on .You’re not taking off one until you see both.”
Marshall groaned. “You’re killing me.”
(Y/N) kissed him. “Have patience.”
“I was patient for over six months. I need you now.”
They rid themselves from the rest of their clothes besides their underwear. (Y/N) got onto Marshall’s bed and laid back, trying to give him a seductive look. Now that she was finally there, almost completely bare and seconds away from what she had been anticipating for so long, she was starting to feel nervous. Not in the fact that Marshall was seeing her naked; (Y/N) was extremely confident in her curvy body. It wasn’t exactly cold feet, either. She definitely was not about to back out of this. There was just a general nervousness that was starting to wash over her at the fact that they were really about to do this, after so many months of build up.
Marshall climbed onto the bed to hover over her. He leaned down to kiss her again, this time a little less rough than earlier. His lips only stayed on hers for a brief moment before he moved down to kiss her neck. She let out a breathy moan as he sucked on the soft skin at the nape of her neck. He nipped at the same spot, causing her to yelp in surprise, before continuing his journey downwards. He slipped his hand under her back to unclasp the bra and throw it onto the floor with the rest of their clothes. His eyes nearly popped out of his skull as her breasts bounced free.
She giggled. “Like what you see?”
“Is that even a question?” he responded. “Jesus, baby, you’re absolutely gorgeous. I have no idea how I managed to survive the last few months without being able to see this?”
“You flatter me.”
Marshall’s eyes watched her face as he lowered his lips to her chest. He took one nipple into his mouth, making her gasp. Her gasp melted into a moan as his tongue circled the hardening bud, his hand reaching up to play with the other breast. Once he had finished with one, he lowered his lips onto the other until it was just as hard and standing at attention. Then he continued down, kissing between her breasts and down her stomach. A pool was forming in her panties as he got closer and closer to where she wanted him most.
He pulled her panties down at an agonizingly slow rate. He threw them off to the side as well and looked down at her. His eyes looked over her entire naked body, from her face all the way down to her parted legs.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he breathed.
She restrained herself from covering her body, suddenly feeling shy under his gaze.
When he put his mouth against her clit, she nearly cried in pleasure. His tongue lapped over the sensitive bundle of nerves, every touch sending a wave of pleasure through her. She threw her head back and moaned into the room; music to Marshall’s ears. He held her thighs open, his fingers leaving indents on the soft skin. (Y/N) gripped the sheets beneath her as her back arched off of the bed. His beard left a burning sensation along the inside of her thighs that just heightened the pleasure she was feeling. It wasn’t long before she felt herself nearing the edge.
“Fuck,” she breathed. “Fuck, Marshall, I’m - I’m close.”
“Cum in my mouth, baby.”
His dirty words of encouragement were enough to send her over the edge. She screamed out his name into the room as his tongue continued to lick her pussy, lapping up her juices. Her body trembled in pleasure as she rode out her orgasm. Once the pleasure turned to overstimulation, she reached down to push Marshall’s head away. When he looked up at her, she could see his mouth and beard glistening with her slick, and it was enough to turn her on again.
“I can’t fucking wait any longer,” Marshall said. He quickly took off his boxers and discarded them with everything else on the floor. He leaned down to kiss (Y/N), allowing her to taste herself on his lips and tongue. She desperately grinded her hips against him and he moaned into her mouth. He lined himself up with her entrance. “Are you ready?”
“I swear to God if you don’t fuck me soon I will leave,” (Y/N) responded.
Marshall chuckled at her eagerness and kissed her again. While his lips were attached to hers, he pushed himself into her. She gasped into the kiss as she took in every inch of him at a painfully slow pace. Once he was buried completely inside of her, they both moaned. The feeling of her stretching around him burned in both pleasure and pain, but it didn’t take long for her to get used to his size within her.
“Please move,” she begged. “Please.”
He started with slow thrusts at first, pulling almost all the way out before filling her again. With every inwards thrust, (Y/N)’s legs involuntarily shook. His dick reached places within her that she didn’t think was even possible, always hitting that one sweet spot inside of her with every thrust. She wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his shoulders, hanging on to him as if she thought he was going to disappear at any moment. Her head was so foggy with lust that she could barely even form a coherent thought. All she could focus on was the pleasure she was feeling, and the only sounds she could make were moans.
Marshall was kissing her neck again, whispering praises into her ear as his thrusts started to speed up. His pelvis was rubbing against her clit, forming the same pressure in the pit of her stomach that she had felt moments ago. There was no way she was going to last long like this, and she found herself able to string together one sentence to tell him, “I - I’m gonna...I’m gonna cum a-again.”
“Cum on this dick, baby,” he breathed into her ear. “I won’t be too far behind you.”
Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as she felt a second, more intense orgasm wash over her. She couldn’t even call out his name this time, only able to moan loudly as her walls constricted around him. As he promised, Marshall’s orgasm wasn’t too far behind. He grunted as (Y/N) felt him twitch inside of her, followed by the warm feeling of him coating her walls. She buried her head into his shoulder, muffling her moans and whimpers as he slowly began to go limp on top of her.
They stayed tangled together like that for some time, both just panting to catch their breaths. (Y/N) hadn’t realized her eyes had been closed during her climax, but when she opened them she still could barley see anything besides stars. It took her a while to come back down to Earth, and when she did, she realized how amazing she felt. It was easily the best sex she had ever had in her life. The anticipation likely contributed to how good it was, but she knew it was mainly the fact that Marshall knew how to make her feel that good.
When he finally pulled out of her, she felt empty. She nearly whimpered at the loss of contact, but managed to hold it back. Marshall left the room for a few moments, coming back with a cloth to clean her up with. Once they were both cleaned, Marshall got back into bed with her and took her into his arms.
“I feel like a teenager,” (Y/N) admitted after a few moments. “All giddy and excited about having sex for the first time. As if I’m not a grown ass woman.”
Marshall chuckled. “We both made a pretty big deal about this day.”
“We did. And it certainly lived up to the hype we were giving it.”
Marshall kissed her forehead and she settled into his chest. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed since she got there, but she realized it was enough time for her to grow incredibly hungry. Before, despite the fact that she knew Marshall had ordered food for them, she wasn’t overly hungry. There had only been one thing on her mind when she arrived at his house, and it certainly was not about eating. But now that the main moment had finally come and passed, her stomach was starting to rumble with anticipation of something else.
Marshall chuckled as her stomach made a loud rumbling noise. “The food might be a little cold now, but we can heat it up if you’re hungry.”
“I’m starving,” she said. “I hadn’t even considered eating today. I’ll eat whatever it is you have ice cold at this rate.”
“Well, you definitely don’t have to do that.” He kissed her again and pulled himself up from the bed. “Come on, let’s go get some food.”
491 notes · View notes
lowkeyrobin · 4 months
Text
FREDDIE BADLINU ; he likes to spoil you and you feel bad
warnings ; swearing
genre ; fluff
pronouns used ; they/them
word count ; 720
an - sorry if this sucks, I was trying to calm myself down after a mental breakdown so oopsies
masterlist
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Freddie rushes to your room as you're in the middle of a stream, playing JackBox with Tommy, Ranboo, Quackity, Wilbur, and BadBoyHalo. He throws something at you, and it hits the back of your head, and lands on the floor next to you.
"What the fuck?-" You question, quickly turning around as your friends laugh, having seen Freddie throw the pillow-like object at you over the Discord call.
Freddie politely smiles from the doorway, hands behind his back. You look down, seeing the object he threw at you next to your chair. You pick it up with a smile, and look back up at him.
"Why?" You ask with a little chuckle, turning around to show your friends and chat what he threw at you. A Minecraft glow squid plushie. It was the size of your head times two.
Freddie shrugs, "Cause I love you"
"EWWWW" Tommy shouts through your headphones, using a bass booster. You quickly throw the headphones off, shouting a "Shut up, Tommy!" through your mic.
You were waiting for the time for verse creation on Verse City to end, so thankfully your boyfriend came in at a good time. You notice the little plastic bits on the squid, and you look back to Freddie.
"Wait, does it glow in the dark?" You ask him. He returns a silent nod, smile still on his face as he pulls a beanbag chair up next to yours.
He sits down, waving to chat as the game begins. "Who are you up against?"
The versus teams show up on screen for a moment, showing that you were up against Quackity.
"Good luck to me" You giggle, "Quackity is the rap god." You slip your headphones back on, listening to Alex as he boasts about being a better rap god than Eminem.
Tommy speaks up with a laugh, "Careful, Quackity, they're meaner than you think"
"Tommy! Dude! Don't let him know my secret moves"
After a few hours, your streams end, and Freddie had left a while ago to make dinner. You walk into the kitchen, seeing a few plastic bags sitting on the counter. Freddie smiles when he sees you, and turns the stove down some, preparing to walk away from the food for a moment.
You heald the glow squid in your arms, already attached to it.
"You like your gift?" He asks, which you return a nod to.
"Well good, cause I have more where that came from" He awkwardly smiles, looking over at the bags. "Just open them, it's nothing bad, I swear!"
"Freddie-" Your smile falters a bit, "You don't have to spend money on gifts for me"
"Then good thing I took all the price tags off" He smiles warmly, lightly pushing you to the counter.
"Dude, I told you I feel bad when you buy me shit, especially stuff I don't need"
"Y/n, you need half of this stuff, you just refuse to spend your money out of fear" He rebuttals, crossing his arms. "Half of this you'd been eyeing in the store anyways"
You sigh, setting the squid on a barstool, trying to stall longer so you wouldn't have to open the bags.
"Y/n/n!"
"I'm going, I'm going! He needs somewhere to sit!"
Freddie leans against the counter, watching as you open the first of two bags.
In the first was a few Lego flower sets, and you quickly look at him. "Freddie."
He giggles, backing away a bit so you can't throw the plushie at him. You open the second, seeing a STEAM gift card, a t-shirt you wanted a couple weeks ago, a few CD's, and some snacks that you loved.
"Freddie" You frown, "I feel bad, you didn't have to buy this stuff for me"
Freddie wraps you in a hug, "I'm proving my love, darling"
"I know you love me, you don't have to prove it" You reply, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, "I don't need gifts from you"
"It's a... token of my appreciation then" He shrugs
"Nope"
"What do I have to do for you to accept it then?"
You shrug.
"You're making this difficult" He chuckles.
You shrug again, your lips curling into an unbeatable smile.
"I can feel you smiling, y/n/n"
"Shut up"
"I love you"
95 notes · View notes
therealcocoshady · 4 months
Text
Recovery - Chapter 6
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Eminem x Reader (Y/N) fanfiction
Summary : Y/N spends the evening with Marshall after avoiding him for weeks - part 2.
Tags : Smut (M/F), Oral, Fluff.
Author's note : It's my first time writing smut. I hope y'all like it.
For a second, you believed Marshall was going to kiss you. His face moved closer to yours and you puckered your lips, expecting a kiss, only to have him bury his face in your neck, planting a soft kiss before gently sucking on it. He was still holding you firmly under his weight. Unlike the other night, he didn’t seem intent on giving you any control. You could barely move. Not that you wanted to, anyways. 
You don’t play fair, Y/N, he said as his hands found your skin under the tee-shirt he had given you. 
Don’t I ? You asked with delight. 
You know you don’t. 
You let out a little laugh as he kissed your neck. As his hands were exploring your skin, you realized your wrists were now free. You started to run your fingers through his hair but he stopped you. 
Don’t move, he said firmly. 
You don’t want me to touch you ? You asked. 
No. 
You were a bit taken aback by the answer but didn’t have much time to think as he made you take the tee-shirt off, leaving you completely topless. He stared at your naked chest for a few seconds, with a smirk on his face. 
Like what you see ? You asked with a smile. 
Shut up, he simply said as he went back to kissing your neck. 
As he was kissing your neck and your shoulders, his hands found your boobs and he started to fondle them. You let out a moan, enjoying his touch. 
Kiss me, please, you asked. 
No, he said firmly with a mean smile. You’re not playing nice, and me neither. You really think you deserve a kiss ? 
You opened your mouth but found yourself unable to say anything. He started kissing your breasts and sucking on them. It felt so good. He suddenly stopped. He looked at you and caressed your bottom with his thumb. For a second, you gazed into his eyes and found yourself under his spell. 
You can tell me to stop at any time, he said softly, yet firmly. Understood ? 
Yes, you said under your breath. 
Good, he said as he stroked your cheek before sucking on your nipples again.
Marshall fumbled with your jeans as he made them slide off your legs and removed your socks. He kissed your thighs and caressed them as he looked into your eyes, and his mouth moved closer to your underwear. You were so wet for him. You wished you could put his head in between your legs already but he seemed to want to take his time. He playfully bit the inside of your thigh as your breathing got heavier. 
You like that ? He asked in a hoarse voice. 
Mmmh. 
Let’s see how you like this, then, he laughed as his fingers cupped your sex over your underwear. 
You arched your back and moaned. He let out a laugh upon finding out how wet for him you were. He proceeded to kiss your pussy, still not getting rid of the damn piece of fabric. You could feel his warm breath against your skin. It was delightful. 
Up, he suddenly ordered. 
You did as he said, and stood up before him, wearing nothing but your panties. He sat up on the couch and pulled you closer so that he could kiss your hip before sliding your underwear off your legs. There you were, completely naked in front of him, who was still completely clothed. You felt horny and insanely vulnerable at the same time. He got up and faced you. He made a trail of kisses from your forehead to your neck and made you sit as he kneeled between your legs, placing one of them on his shoulder. You knew what was coming. Yet, you couldn’t help but gasp and moan at the same time as he started to explore your pussy with his tongue. He slid one finger inside you, as his tongue played with your clit, sending you on edge. You’d had multiple sexual encounters before but, for the first time, it seemed like you were with someone who really knew what they were doing. It felt like he knew exactly the right thing to do with his tongue and his fingers to make you feel good. You were now reduced to a moaning mess. You could feel you were about to come as he stopped and looked you in the eyes. 
Come on, I’ll take you home now, he said. 
Wh… what ?! You asked in disbelief. 
You didn’t think you deserved to come, now, did you ? 
You opened your mouth in shock. He wouldn’t dare. Would he ? 
You…, you started. 
I told you, Y/N. You get what you deserve. 
His voice was firm, as a mean smile formed on his lips. You could feel your heart beating in your chest and you were on the verge of tears. He brought his face closer to yours and brushed your cheeks with his fingers. 
Unless, of course, you want to take this opportunity to apologize, he hummed after a few seconds. 
Fuck, you said. Please, Marshall. 
I believe the word you’re searching for is « Sorry », he laughed. 
Fuck. I’m sorry… Please  ! you begged. 
He let out a laugh and shook his head before burying his face between your legs again. He inserted two fingers in your pussy as his tongue worked his magic on your clit. You started to feel your juices flowing and him lapping them as he sent you over the edge. You could feel your whole body contracting as you screamed in relief, tears streaming down your cheeks. Marshall let one last kiss on the inside of your thigh before standing up and joining you on the couch. 
Y/N… Are you crying ? He asked, suddenly alarmed. 
His demeanor changed completely. He pulled you close to him and gently cupped your face, wiping your tears with his thumbs. 
I’m fine, you said as you regained some composure. I just… It was…  were you really going to leave me like this ?! 
Not nice, huh ? He said with a grin.  
No, you said as you let your head roll on his shoulder. 
Well now you know how I felt. 
His piercing eyes found yours, as he placed a strand of hair behind your ear. You lowered your gaze. 
I was in agony during the whole movie, he said with a laugh. 
I've been in agony for three weeks, you retorted. 
Feeling better now ? 
Much better, you admitted. 
He gently kissed your forehead. 
Why didn’t you let me touch you ? You asked. 
You can’t always get what you want, Y/N, Marshall said. I wanted you to experience the frustration I’ve felt. 
Mmmh, you said, lost in your thoughts. Consider me frustrated. 
Good, he said firmly. 
I’m sorry, you blurted out. 
Suddenly, you felt the need to apologize. He looked at you with a smile and shook his head. All of a sudden, you felt shy, a surge of anxiety making its way through your brain. He seemed to pick on it and gently stroked your cheek. 
How about a shower ? He offered with a smile. We could both use one. 
You looked at him, his beard glistening with your juice, his tee-shirt soaking wet. You also noticed a huge wet spot on the couch. It was the first time this ever happened to you. You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks. 
Oh my God, I’m so sorry, you whispered.  
It’s fine, he shrugged off with a small laugh. 
He got up and took your hand, leading you to a huge bathroom where he took his clothes before entering the shower. You stared at him, admiring his naked body for the very first time. The sight was almost soothing, after the frustration of seeing him keep his clothes on. 
Like what you see ? He asked with a smirk. 
Sorry, you blurted out. I… uh… 
Just come, he said as he chuckled shook his head. 
You joined him in the shower, standing in front of him, as the warm water washed over your bodies. You weren’t too sure of what you were supposed to say or do. You looked at him as he closed his eyes and let his head fall back. You stared as if you were seeing him for the very first time, taking in some details such as the way his bear complemented his jaw, how muscular he was, or the way his tattoos adorned his body. You couldn’t help but notice how fully erect he was. After all, you hadn’t got to take care of him. You blushed and lowered your gaze. 
You ok ? He asked, his eyes still closed. 
You hummed absentmindedly. 
What are you thinking about ? 
Can I kiss you now ? You asked, almost whispering. 
You were still staring at the ground and you heard him chuckle before he pulled you closer to him. 
Of course, he said gently before kissing you softly. 
Your body relaxed in his arms as he kissed you, his tongue finding yours. You could taste yourself. It was the first time someone ever kissed you after going down on you. 
Is it what I taste like ? You wondered out loud. 
Yes, he said with a chuckle. Don’t you like it ? 
Do you ? You asked. 
Yeah, he said as he nodded. You taste good. 
Can I taste you ? You asked. 
He stared at you for a few seconds before nodding. 
You don’t have to, he said. 
I want to, you replied shyly before kneeling in the shower. 
You were now facing his manhood in all of its glory. You gently stroked it before licking the tip with your tongue, causing him to moan. 
God, he grunted. That’s good. 
You started with long, slow licks from the top to the bottom of his shaft, taking some time to tease the head. Then, you proceeded to take him in, as much as you could, while playing with his balls. You sucked gently, playing with your tongue. 
Yes, he said, keep going. That’s so fucking good, Y/N. 
You felt his hand in your hair, putting it into a makeshift ponytail and encouraging you. This prompted you to find a quicker pace. You bobbed your head and he began to thrust in your mouth. 
Fuck. I’m close. I’m going to… 
You heard him groan as he let go of your face, giving you the opportunity to stop before he came in your mouth. In truth, you didn’t mind. All you wanted was to make him feel good. You kept on sucking and licking. 
Holy shit, he grunted as he shot his load in your mouth. 
You swallowed it all and, once he was done, you let go of him. You were still on your knees, staring at him from below. After a few seconds, he gazed into your eyes. 
You’re so fucking hot. 
You giggled and he helped you get back up. You ended up washing each other in silence, soft smiles on your faces. After a while, you got out of the shower and he wrapped you into a robe before putting a towel around his waist. He kissed you gently, his hand tracing your jaw. 
That was nice, he said. 
You hummed and kissed him again. You stood in the bathroom and spent a moment sharing a soft embrace. After a short while, you found yourself shivering. 
Let’s get you dressed, he said before taking your hand and leading you upstairs, to his closet. 
You gasped for a second when you entered the room. It was, without a doubt, the biggest closet you had ever seen. In fact, it was bigger than your own bedroom. It was any fashionista’s wet dream, with racks of color coordinated items that seemed carefully selected and organized, as well as an immense wall dedicated to sneakers. You weren’t too much of a sneakerhead but you could tell some of the items on display were definitely collection-worthy. 
Holy shit, you couldn’t help but say. I swear I’ve seen stores with less stuff than this. 
I know, right ? he replied with a soft chuckle. 
Who needs that much clothes ? you asked with a giggle. 
No one, he admitted with a shrug. But to be fair, I don’t have that much clothes. I mean, I just have a lot of sneakers. 
What are you ? A centipede ? you joked. 
He let out a laugh and shook his head. 
I’m a collector, he explained. I’ve been collecting sneakers for decades. Some of these are pretty cool ! 
What’s your favorite pair ? you asked, genuinely intrigued. 
It’s hard to pick, he said. I wear a lot of Air Jordan 4. I do enjoy some of the ones I’ve designed. 
You designed shoes ?! you asked in disbelief. 
Yup, he said proudly as he grabbed a pair. These, are a collab with Carhartt. I also have the Encore ones. There’s also a Slim Shady version. 
That’s the coolest thing ever !!! you said, really excited. 
I know, he chuckled. Do you want to browse ? 
May I ? 
Of course, he said with a laugh. That’s just clothes, not a museum. Plus, your feet are so tiny that I don’t have to worry about you stealing a pair. 
You spent a couple of minutes browsing his closet. He did have some really cool stuff in there. Some of which you definitely wouldn’t mind stealing. You noticed that, although he wasn’t one to wear logos, a lot of items were luxury. You tried your best not to shriek as you found a couple of really cool-looking Saint Laurent jackets in a variation of colors. While you were looking around, he put on some boxers and sweatpants. He was leaning against a dresser, his arms crossed and a smile on his face. 
You have the coolest closet I’ve ever seen, you said giddily. 
Oh yeah ? He asked with a hint of pride. 
Yeah. I mean, it’s menswear, but if you replaced the sneakers with some nice handbags and added jewelry… 
You like jewelry ? He said with a smirk. Look at this. 
He grabbed a box on one of the dressers and opened it. It was filled with jewelry - chains, rings, bracelets. The collection was definitely impressive and eclectic. Some of it was simple, discreet and dainty while some pieces were over the top. 
What the hell is that ? You asked, pointing at a huge gold, rope chain. 
That, he said proudly, is a present from LL Cool J ! 
It’s very uh… massive, you said. 
It is, he chuckled. Actually, he got a few of those made for me. Some of them are smaller, some are bigger. 
You are a rapper after all, you mused. I guess it makes sense for you to have some stuff that’s over the top. 
I guess, he said with a laugh. But seriously, my idol had these made for me. It’s dope ! 
You looked at him and bit your lip. He seemed to have a childlike excitement but you had no idea how to tell him that you had no idea who LL Cool J was. 
What ? He asked. You don’t think it’s cool ? 
No, you said. It’s very uh… that’s massive jewelry, for sure. But I have no idea who that man is. 
Seriously ? He asked in disbelief. 
I mean… yeah. Is he…famous ? 
He chuckled. 
Well yeah, he is pretty famous. Just one of the world’s biggest hip-hop artists. No big deal. 
To be fair, I never listened to a lot of hip-hop before meeting you… A year ago I knew about…three of your songs ? Five if we’re being generous. 
He burst out in a fit of laughter. Your face turned red. 
You live with JAMAL, you hang out with us at the studio all the fucking time and that’s the hip-hop culture you have ? He chuckled. That’s not right. 
I mean, I enjoy a lot of the music he plays, you explained. I just have no idea who the artists are. I enjoy the stuff you record when I’m here, too. 
Mmmh. I’ll have to give you homework, he grinned. I can’t have you be so ignorant about hip-hop. I won’t have that. 
Right, you said. Recommend stuff to me and I’ll listen. 
What kind of music do you actually listen to, then ? He asked. 
A bit of everything, I guess, you replied. My father listens to a lot of classical music and he introduced me to a lot of operas. But I grew up listening to a bit of everything. 
Favorite artists ? He asked. 
When I grew up ? Definitely Britney Spears and Christina Aguilera. Mariah Carey, too. 
He resumed the laughter. It seemed like the situation was hilarious to him, but you were a bit lost. 
What now ? You asked as you rolled your eyes. 
It’s just that… nevermind, he said as he tried to regain his composure. 
Tell me ! 
Let’s just say that, usually, women who suck my dick know a bit more about my music… and don’t mention people I’ve had beef with as their favorite artists, he said with a grin. I like that you’re candid, though. 
What beef ? You asked as you blushed at the mention of your antics. 
He giggled and proceeded to tell you a bit about his beef with Britney, Christina and Mariah as well as other pop artists while you kept on browsing. You listened. Of course you knew he was Eminem and that he’d been in the industry for decades. But having him give you a first-hand account of his experience made you realize the big deal he was. Hanging out with him and seeing him be his normal, casual self tended to make you forget about his status. But there you were, casually browsing a celebrity’s closet, dressed in a robe. When he mentioned “Obsessed”, your jaw was on the floor. 
There’s no way this song is about you, you said. 
It is, he replied with a laugh. I mean… Everyone sort of knows that ? 
Well I didn’t ! you shrieked. I thought it was about a crazy, weird-looking, obsessive fan. 
Weird-looking ? 
Well, you know, the dude in the music video ? He looks weird. 
He started laughing again, almost hysterically. 
It’s supposed to look like me, he said. 
Noooo, you said. You never looked this bad. Wait… Did you ? 
He giggled and finally grabbed some sweatpants, a tee-shirt and a hoodie for you to wear. 
Put these on, he said with a smile. I’ll be right back. 
You did as you were told and got dressed while he left the room. His clothes were too big on you, but also insanely comfortable. He came back with a photo album and showed you a picture of him with a goatee. 
See ? He chuckled. It doesn’t look exactly like me. But there is a slight resemblance. 
I don’t know how to put this, but… Damn, you aged like fine wine, you said. No offense but you look much better now. 
So I hear, he said with a soft smile. 
You also look better with your natural hair color, you pointed out. 
I know, he said with a giggle. Yeah, the 90s and 00s were an interesting time in fashion. Some of these pictures are terrible. 
Show me ! 
You were officially like a kid in a candy shop, having the time of your life. He laughed softly as you both sat on the carpet and looked at the photo album, Marshall providing some context and comments about some outfits. You soon found yourself cackling over a picture of him in some colorful outfit. 
You look like Winnie the Pooh here ! That’s very yellow !!! you shrieked. 
I think I also have a variation of this outfit in green and red, too, he added with a wink. 
So if we add all of your pictures, you can basically look like a pack of … M&Ms ? 
Very funny. Ha Ha.
He looked over at you while you were giggling like a little girl, tears almost rolling. 
Sorry, you managed to say. I think I’m just tired. 
Yeah, your jokes usually aren’t this bad, he giggled. 
Unlike some of your outfits ! 
You started laughing hysterically again, so much so that your stomach hurt. You laid on the carpet for a second as you calmed down. Marshall looked at you with an amused look. 
God, I’m exhausted, you said as you almost closed your eyes. 
I’ll take you home before you pass out here, he said softly. 
I can call a cab, you know, you said. 
Don’t be stupid. It’s the middle of the night. I don’t mind, he replied. 
He got up and offered his hand for you to move as well. You stood up and he brushed your cheek with his fingers before putting on a tee-shirt and leading you to the garage where about ten cars were parked. You opened big eyes, trying to contain your excitement. Granted, you didn’t drive - being from Paris you had never bothered learning - but you did have an appreciation for beautiful rides. 
Is it… an Aston Martin… ? you asked, barely able to contain your excitement. 
… V8 Vantage, yeah, he replied with a smirk. 
That’s quite the collection, you pointed out. Do you have a favorite ? 
Mmmmh… This one, he said, pointing at a Lamborghini. It’s a 2014 Aventador. I don’t take it out much, though. I usually just drive the Escalade. It’s less flashy. But this one is faster. 
That’s so cool, you couldn’t help but say. 
Want to drive it on the way home ? He offered. 
I don’t drive, you confessed. But if I had a car like this… I’d definitely get a driver’s license. 
Too bad, he said with a smirk. Come on, I’ll show you what this beauty can do. Unless you want to go home straight away ? 
I think I can spare some time, you giggled. 
Good. 
You got in the car and he put on some music. 
Now that I know you don’t know the first thing about hip-hop, I have to further your education, he explained with a grin. 
Right, you giggled. Where are we going for a drive ? 
There’s a nice scenic drive not too far, he said. And it’s so late that we’ll have the road to ourselves. 
The drive was agreeable, the car being insanely comfortable. You could have easily fallen asleep if Marshall hadn’t decided to speed up. You automatically grabbed the nearest handle, causing him to laugh. 
Do you trust me ? He asked with a smile, his hand on your thigh. 
Yes, you said softly - telling the absolute truth. 
Good. 
The speed picked up some more and you found yourself giggling at the sensations. You could tell by his childish smile that he was having a lot of fun himself. You ended up in a cool spot, not too far away from the city so that you could go back easily, but remote enough so that you could see the stars. The weather was a bit cold but the view was clear. 
It’s gorgeous, you said, as you stepped out of the car. 
I know, right ? He said. So��� Thoughts on the drive ? 
It’s was sooooo awesome !!! you shrieked. The whole night was pretty great. 
It was, he agreed. I had a great time. I always do, when you’re around. 
You smiled. You always had fun when he was around. He was, without a doubt, the coolest person you knew, with a wicked sense of humor, quick wit and relaxed attitude. 
Even if you don’t want to watch any more movies with me ? You mused. 
Yeah, he chuckled. Speaking of which… 
You stared at him as he gazed into your eyes, suddenly becoming serious. 
I need you to know that what I said earlier still stands, he said. 
Mmmh ? You asked, even though you could see where this was going. 
Don’t get me wrong, he said. It’s the greatest time I’ve had in a while. But I still shouldn’t be messing with you. You’re still in recovery, still getting over a breakup. I’m still too old for you. So nothing’s going to happen anymore, ok ? 
Ok, you whispered, trying not to show a hint of sadness. 
Are you good with that ? He asked, wanting to make sure you were on the same page. 
Do you regret tonight ? You asked nervously. 
No, he said as he shook his head. I gave in on the attraction because you’re a fucking tease and, frankly, pretty irresistible. Probably not my best idea but I don’t regret it. Wait… Do you ? 
You shook your head, suddenly becoming shy. 
Good, he said. I don’t want to take advantage of you. 
It’s not taking advantage, you replied. 
Except it sort of could be, he continued. 
It’s not, you said. Not if we both want it and it’s consensual. 
I don’t want it, he said firmly. Therefore, it’s not consensual. 
Ouch. That stinged. You felt your face decompose. 
I don’t mean it like that, he sighed. You’re amazing and tonight was great. But I’m serious. I love spending time with you, but if we want to do it again, especially if it’s just the two of us, I need to make sure we’re on the same page. 
Ok, you said softly. 
I need to hear you say it, Y/N. 
We’re on the same page, Marshall, you said. 
And you won’t make a move ? 
And I won’t make a move, you said with a hint of sadness. 
And you won’t wear those jeans again ? he added. 
And I won’t… hey ! 
I’m just messing with you, he chuckled. 
Just don’t stare at my ass, you groaned. 
I won’t stare at your ass, he promised with a smile. But next time we watch a movie, you better wear something else. 
So, there will be another movie night ? you asked with a shy smile. 
Sure. If you want, he said. I like hanging out with you. But I’m serious. Nothing happens or we’re done. 
Me too, you replied. Don’t worry, I’ll behave. 
Good. Come on, I’ll take you home now, he said with a smile as he got back in the car. 
You stayed silent the whole drive, just listening to the music. You could understand where he was coming from. Deep down, you were happy he was behaving like a gentleman, unlike a lot of other men you knew. And he was right about the whole thing : age, recovery, breakup… Still, you were insanely drawn to him. You found yourself having one regret : it was a shame the sex was so good, especially if you couldn’t have it. You were nervously playing with the pendant he had given you, that had never left your neck since the first night. He parked in front of your place and opened the car door for you.
All good ? He asked. 
All good, you nodded shyly. 
Come here, he said as he pulled you in for a hug. 
Thanks for tonight, you whispered. 
It was fun. Wanna hang out at the studio tomorrow ? He offered. 
Sure, you said. I’ll come by after I’m done with uni. 
He nodded and made sure you got to the door before driving away.
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hooksignal · 4 months
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HOOK with a D12 t-shirt it's a win for all the hookers that had an Eminem phase, or are still having it
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st4rb3rr13s · 8 months
Text
Musician!Eren headcanons
Just some headcanons, should be no warnings
Since this is getting more popular I thought y’all would like me to do a second one<33
Musician!Eren only puts out his albums or singles on his favorite number(3). What I mean is, like if he’s putting out a song in October it would HAVE to be October 3rd, 13th, 23rd, 30th, or 31st. If it’s not, he’d be actually pissed. (He thinks it’s good luck.)
Musician!Eren would listen to Wave to earth, Beyoncé, Usher, A-Boogie, Meek Mill, Bruno Mars, Eminem, Biggie, Tupac, and Jay-Z. So he likes making RNB or rap. But when he was younger he def was into rock tho. He has posters, t-shirts, and merch of his old favorite bands. He probably met one of his idols when he was younger too. (Father Grisha has connections.)
Musician!Eren and Grisha’s relationship went rocky when Eren didn’t want to go to college and wanted to pursue his music career. Grisha was NOT happy about it because Eren was for one spending GRISHA’S money on his passion and it seemed like it wasn’t going anywhere. Grisha and Eren defiantly had multiple arguments about his career before it sky rocked.
Musician!Eren’s first hit was an overnight sensation. Like before maybe a couple thousands listened to it and was many people’s favorite underground artist, but when he made a song talking about his love PEOPLE WENT CRAZYY!! Like Snooze or Hrs and Hrs, people played it like that.
Musician!Eren would be the most chill person anyone could’ve met in the industry. Everyone loved him, as he was one of the most realest but nonchalant people. He could keep a conversation but he was never blatantly rude or disrespectful to anyone. So when you two met, you were drawn to his chill nature.
Musician!Eren’s first beef with Jean wasn’t anything he really cared about. He didn’t care until Jean started to talk shit about you honestly. He wanted to talk all this shit while his fiancé, Mikasa, and you were best friend. You didn’t care, knowing he wanted clout but Eren cared. And he made his first of many diss tracks, getting more attention.
Musician!Eren would get cancel for the shit he said in the past, like someone came for a song he made when he was much younger and he asked him about their dead relatives. People went after him, but did he care? No, he didn’t even address it. He honestly replied to it with “New Single out tomorrow.” LIKE WHAT?? (But profit ig.)
Musician!Eren’s first scandal would be him dating Mikasa (obviously fake.) They’d see the pair hanging out together more often, Mikasa giggling while Eren was telling a joke. People would question them, and they’d end it saying they were friends. (They were co-stars for AOT, but no one knew until the trailer came out.)
Musician!Eren and you came out on the red carpet, matching, while his hand was on your waist, omg. EVERYONE WOULD GO CRAZY !! So many pictures, paparazzi trying to talk to you two, asking when did this start. Everything. The two of you look at each other, laugh, answer, then walk away. (Too in love 😭)
Musician!Eren would definitely feature you in one of his songs. He would want you to be in at least one, and it had to be a love song. Either you acting in it or singing or even both, he didn’t care. Just needed you to work with him once.
Musician!Eren who definitely donates some of his money because he doesn’t know what he’d use all of it on?? He gives some to his family and spoils you?? What the hell is he going to do with an extra 1 mil?? Better to donate it, because he can gain that 1 million in a day if he really needed it.
Musician!Eren who was caught smoking weed. People tried to cancel him again, and he didn’t care. He addressed this time though, with a video of him smoking o’s while high. He didn’t really care about anyone’s opinion about what he does, unless it’s you.
Musician!Eren who went in disguise to buy you a bag. You complained about not being able to buy it online since it was sold out, but in store it wasnt. (His cover was shit and people found out easily(too many paparazzi, he asked for them to ship the bag to your house.))
Musician!Eren who got in trouble with his mom when he made a song about getting bitches. His mom KNEW he was in a relationship with you, and Mama Carla knew how it felt. She cussed him out then when she saw him next pinched his ear before forcing him to apologize to you. (Definitely doesn’t like her son being a player.)
Musician!Eren who is always a trending topic, and everyone always in his business. He went to get ice cream? Eren loves chocolate ice cream. Went to buy some new shirts? Eren can’t stop spending his money. Like leave him alone 😭😭
Musician!Eren on your anniversary definitely planned a nice vacation to the place you’ve been talking about going to, planning activities, everything. Surprises you too because he acts like he forgot. (He never forgets anything.)
Hope you like<33
@s3lfinvolvedh3athen
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marshallsgirl · 10 months
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Wassup, girly?
Listen , I've got this idea on my mind for a week now and I really hope you can write it for me.. Well, eminem and reader are kinda best friends , okay?And the reader is also a well known rapper and sang nothing except rap… But one day on stage she sings the song "Dandelions" with full emotions and looks so happy while singing it… especially at lines like "I see forever in your eyes" or "I'm in a field of dandelions…Wishing on everyone that you would be mine"…Then when she's done she says that this song is a gift from her to "her blond lil' chick " and everyone knows who's that 😀…And after the concert her and eminem are just shy but confess and make up…The end…Sorry if its a lil messy but I dunno I feel like it's cute 😊 when I first heard this song he just came 2 my mind..
If ur not comfortable with it it's okay.
Thank u ♡
If we had talked sooner
Pairing: Eminem x Fem¡Reader
Warnings: 🔞 MATURE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK
Author's note: I want to apologize for not being so active. I hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Shout out to @froggirly who inspired me to write this. Love you all🤍
Song you could listen to while reading this: Dandelions by Ruth B.
¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤❁ཻུ۪۪⸙͎ ¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤
"Are you okay?" asked Marshall. We were both alone at his studio waiting for the others to arrive and start recording a song together. It felt really special that Marshall asked me to collaborate with him, but at the same time I was anxious. I'm a rapper too, but my way of coming out with lyrics is way more slower than Marshall's way and I kinda felt like my part wasn't good enough. But actually at the moment Marshall asked if I was okay, I wasn't thinking about the song at all, but I knew he was asking about that. Honestly, I was thinking about him and something I wanted to do.
"Listen, if you still thinking that your part isn't..." he started to say but I interrupted him.
"No, it's not that"
"Then what is it?"
I looked over my shoulder just to make sure that no one was at the door.
"Fuck, y/n. Just say it" he said impatiently.
"Jeez okay, okay. I just wanted to ask you...I want to invite you to my concert tomorrow night". I finally said.
"All that trouble to invited me to a fuckn concert" he complained.
"Man, will you go or not?"
"Of course, babe" he said and smirked.
He calling me babe drives me crazy, but I hope he didn't notice. I like him a lot, but I can't tell him that. I'm pretty sure he is not into relationship kinda of things and I don't want it to be just a one night thing.
❁ཻུ۪۪⸙͎ ❁ཻུ۪۪⸙͎ ❁ཻུ۪۪⸙͎ ❁ཻུ۪۪⸙͎ ❁ཻུ۪۪⸙͎ ❁ཻུ۪۪⸙͎ ❁ཻུ۪۪⸙͎
At the concert
Marshall got a special spot near the stage. I could see him perfectly. He was wearing an all black outfit, black hat, black t-shirt, black cargo pants. What a view! He is hot! Seeing him there looking all good got me wishing he was mine.
"I would like to sing a very special song. It's a little bit different of what u guys are used to, but I really really want to sing that song tonight" Everyone just screamed and started to beg for me to sing.
So I gave the signal and the music started to play.
And I sang, "maybe it's the way you say my name, maybe it's the way you play your game. But it's so good, I've never known anybody like you. But it's so good, I've never dreamed of nobody like you" then I started to walk to get to the part of the stage that was closer to Marshall. "And I've heard of a love that comes once in a lifetime and I'm pretty sure that you are that love of mine 'cause I'm in a field of dandelions, wishin' on every one that you'd be mine, mine..."
I saw him right in the eyes and sang, "And I see forever in your eyes. I feel okay when I see you smile, smile" And I swear I saw him smirk but it couldn't be...right?
Suddenly I felt nervous but I manage to still looking at him and sang, "Praying to God that one day you'll be mine. Wishing on dandelions all of the time, all of the time..." but when I finished that post chorus I felt so shy that I walk away and continue to sing without looking at him. Soon I started to surrender to the song and felt brave again so I looked at him one more time and sang, "Dandelion, into the wind you go. Won't you let my darling know? Dandelion, into the wind you go. Won't you let my darling know that?" And I saw him nod. But that was impossible, wasn't it?
When the song ended my fans screamed like crazy. And there was one of them that was extremely louder and I hear her say: "That one is for Shady!"
Suddenly everyone was shouting "Shady, Shady, Shady"
I felt my cheeks turning red. They knew, but how? For how long do they know? Was I too obvious? Since when? I turned to face Marshall again and he gave me a soft smile and a nod.
"Sure, it was a gift for that blond good looking guy over there" I shouted.
The cameras pointed at him, and everyone screamed even more. And I hear my extremely louder fan again. She yelled: "that's y/n's blond lil' chick!". Everyone laughed at that even Marshall.
❁ཻུ۪۪⸙͎ ❁ཻུ۪۪⸙͎ ❁ཻུ۪۪⸙͎ ❁ཻུ۪۪⸙͎ ❁ཻུ۪۪⸙͎ ❁ཻུ۪۪⸙͎ ❁ཻུ۪۪⸙͎
After the concert
I couldn't meet with Marshall backstage but he made sure to left me a text message saying that he will wait for me at my home.
When I got there I found him leaning against his car. Just like he promised, he's waiting for me. He doesn't see me yet and that's good 'cause I'm too distracted admiring his perfect body. I shake my head to come back to reality just in time because Marshall turns his head and looks at me. He give me a smile. Oh, that smile!
With each step I take towards Marshall, his smile turns to a smirk as he drapes his arm over the top of his car.
"Hey, babe" he said and I pray he keep calling me that. Before I could say something, he kisses me and I melt into the kiss, especially when he grabs my cheeks softly. As he pulls away, he nudges my nose with his own.
"I'm sorry" I tell him softly. My eyes dancing across his face as I wait for his reaction.
"Why are you apologizing?" He asks confusingly.
"I should have told you first in private not in front of millions of people" I confess.
"That doesn't matter. Fuck, I'm sorry too for not telling you how I felt about you before" he confess.
"I like you a lot" I say
"And you wish for me to be yours" he chuckles lightly, "I believe you are the one too". I muster the courage to look at him, relief settling on my heart as soon as I hear him saying that.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner" I apologize again.
"Guess we are both sorry about the same damn thing" He nudges my nose with his, making me giggle as he lets out a chuckle before he licks his lower lip. "I'm sorry." he apologizes again.
"It's okay, I'm sorry too". I whisper
We're moving closer, breaths mingling together before he connects my lips and kisses me hard but slow and passionate. I participate in the kiss as much as Marshall does, moving my lips against his smoothly and following his pace that still stays the same: tender and passionate. His hands cupping my face moving down my neck and getting back to my cheeks. I need his touch. He's leaving an electrifying feeling on my skin.
I'm not sure how but we got inside the house. Now we are in my living room and I'm slowly moving to his lap as I straddle him. Marshall's hands grab my hips, squeezing them slightly as he still kisses me and refuses to pull away. Moving my hips, I grind into his crotch and moan when I feel his bulge. He's not hardening yet, his bulge soft but still pretty obvious from what I feel and see when I look down. Cupping my cheeks, he's chasing my lips for another kiss and I happily obey, letting him explore my mouth some more.
He pulls away to catch a breath, allowing me to do the same but he takes that opportunity to hold me tighter before he's pressing me down onto the couch. I giggling when my body is slowly put down onto my soft couch while Marshall hovers me with a smile playing on his lips. He takes off my clothes exposing my lacy panties and bra. Stretching my legs, I give him much more space between them as he happily takes it and grabs my thighs. He cups my heat over the lacy panties and squeezes. And he smirks, and there's this huge urge to grind into his hand. Marshall kisses me again while he hooks his fingers under my panties and starts to circling my clit.
"Marshall" his name leaving my mouth as soon as he starts stroking my heat.
He's still kissing me slowly and passionately, he say: "y/n, you are so wet" then he keeps rubbing those long fingers all over me.
"Marshall, I need more of you" I gasp between the kisses, not caring how pleadingly I sound. Listening to my pleads, he enters me with one finger which feels amazing, but not good enough.
"Marshall, please more" I murmur against his lips, hearing him chuckle again at my persistence. "Please" I moan grinding into his hand that makes him curse and add another finger. The stretch is stronger now, his fingers moving in and out of me amazingly. When I keep getting greedier, Marshall adds another one and pumps his three fingers with the same pace, making sure he circles my clit with his thumb for extra pleasure. But I need more to be able to cum. Marshall's fingers feel amazing, but the pace isn't enough to make me cum. It still gives me at least some pleasure... However, my pleasure is completely cut off when Marshall pulls his fingers out of me and puts them in his mouth to clean them.
What a view!
He takes off my panties. Cold air hits my core, even more when Marshall grabs my knees and pushes them apart, showing my glistening heat and I see him. Slowly, he licks his bottom lip as he glances at me, giving me a smirk before he plops himself between my legs with his head right there. It took me by surprise when he starts licking a long stripes against my pussy, catching all my arousal to replace it with his saliva as he tastes me. He hums against me, the sound making me shiver as I wait for his next move. He's savoring every second of what he's doing to me. He enters me with his tongue, moving it in and out like he did with his fingers, but this feels different and still so fucking amazing. I moaning and gasping for air.
"Fuck, babe" I moan, his tongue easing out of me as he starts making out with my heat. "How are you so good at this?" I choke out, hearing him chuckle against my pussy.
I feel my body craving for orgasm so much that my legs start to shake but I've to stop myself, dipping my fingers into Marshall's hair to stop him. But he doesn't completely understand my nonverbal request, growling against my heat as he picks up the pace.
"Marshall, stop. I want you." I moan out, almost crushing his head with my thighs.
He stops, lifting up his head and my jaw drop. Doe eyes stare at me, surprised that I've stopped him when he could feel I was almost cumming on his mouth. His hair is completely messy while his face is glistening with my juices and his saliva mixed together. It's naughty, but I love every second of it. I crave him even more.
"I wanna cum around you." I explain to him, chest heaving with harsh breaths as he listens to me and wipes his face with the back of his hand.
"Whatever you want, babe." he says, pecking my inner thigh before he pulls away and sits onto his knees. He stares at me for a moment, eyes seeing much more darker now.
He got up and he starts taking off his clothes, painfully slow but it could be just me i because I can't wait. I need him so much. I want to feel him. I notice his eyes traveling down my body, stopping at my breasts that are covered with a lacy blue bra that match with my panties that are thrown somewhere on the floor. I start to take off my bra. And he gulps visibly, seeing my breasts spilling out of the bra when I finally take it off. It seems to kick him up, fastening his movements before he stands in his boxers in front of me.
"Ready?" he asks, although my hungry eyes for his almost completely naked and beautiful body, I believe says it all. I see him, his tattoos contrasting with his softly looking skin, decorating it and making him look even more hot
He takes a few steps closer to me, leaning down to kiss me again. As he pulls away, he slowly takes down his boxers, exposing hard length that slaps against his stomach. Fuck, I want to touch him, to taste him just like he tasted me. But before my fingertips can even touch his skin, he takes me hand and caresses the back of it with his thumb. Giving me a smile, he shakes his head before he takes a condom and rips it open. I watch his every step, the way he puts the condom until he tugs it down his length to cover it. Glancing back at me, he gives me a faint smirk before he joins me on the sofa and starts hovering over my body.
I'm laying back down and spreading my legs to give him space between them which he gladly takes. My hands explore his chest, caressing his skin there as he leans down and pecks my lips.
He stares into my eyes, not budging or even blinking as he takes himself into his hand and slowly enters me. Gasping, I close my eyes but quick open them because I want to see him. And fuck, what a view! He fills me up. When he's all in, he lets me adjust to his size while he's kissing me.
My arms wrap around his neck, pulling him even closer and signaling that I'm ready, he starts to pull out. His tip stays inside before he enters me all over again. His thrusts are slower, almost romantic as he stares into my eyes. I feel like he's staring into your soul. Marshall picks up at the pace, still not setting it brutal like I expect him to. No, he sets up a smooth pace that makes us both breathless and grabbing each other, all while he steals couple of kisses from me before he hides his face into the crook of my neck.
"I'm sorry," I gasp, "So sorry for not telling you in private" I apologizes pulling him even closer, he hits my spot even deeper and we both groan at that.
"I'm sorry," he tell me back, "I'm sorry, y/n"
"No, you're perfect," I moan. He's rolling his hips and that makes my eyes roll back. "You're so good to me."
I match his pace, giving as much effort as I can to bring both of us an orgasm.
"Marshall," I moan, feeling myself clenching and making it harder for Marshall to move but he makes it work.
"I'm right here" he growls, sweat coating both of our bodies that are on heat. "Cum for me, babe." he tells me, setting even faster pace that makes my breasts bounce and his balls slap against my ass more intensely. He takes that chance to envelope my nipple into his warm mouth as he sucks on it. That's the last drop, the knot in my stomach relaxing as I'm cumming around him. He rides me through it, bringing himself over the edge too and with a couple of more thrusts and me whimpering from overstimulation, he lets go of my nipple and opens his mouth. A growl leaves his mouth before he's cumming, filling up the condom with his seed. He drops his face into my chest, breathing heavily as I coax him with caressing his back. Kissing my chest, he lifts his head up. We both have fucked up expression, but we are smiling like we're both high.
"We both said we were sorry a couple of times. Y/n, you need to know that I'm not angry."
"I know you aren't," I tell him gently, "but still..."
"We are both stupid. If we had talked sooner, we would have known what it's like to have great sex!", his length sliding out of me as we both cringe before chuckle at each other. "Now, let's not talk about this anymore." he tells me, breath hitching when he reaches for a stand of hair and pulls it out of my face.
We kiss one more time.
"Let's take a shower, and order some food" he says, carefully not to crush me as he lifts himself up.
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rosewaterandivy · 1 year
Text
6. a routine malaise
Summary: Rumor has it, that hometown hero-turned-teacher Steve Harrington is hot for teacher. The English teacher next door to him at Hawkins High, who also happens to be his childhood friend, that is.
Pairing: Steve Harrington x chaotic!dumbass reader
Warnings: No use of y/n - reader goes by the nickname Trouble instead, winter holidays (Christmas), poor groupchat etiquette, travel, Steve driving stick (🥵🥵🥵), drinking and drug use, Eddie meddling, Just Friends mention (yes, AGAIN), pining and yearning, Modern!Teacher AU, English teacher reader, History teacher Steve, slow burn, friends to lovers, romance.
A/N: Damn, we really in it now, huh? Get ready for ignoring feelings and maladaptive coping mechanisms! Here’s 5.8K of Steve being a sweetie and Reader being... well... evasive. Let me know what you think; like and reblogs are appreciated, as always, enjoy! 💜
series masterlist | playlist
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Then, Winter Break, Christmas Eve, IND ➡️ SFO ➡️ MRY ➡️ Carmel-by-the-Sea, CA
You were going to kill Steve.
You’d arrived to the airport with absolutely no time to spare and had to book it through security (thank you, TSA Pre-Check) and then sprint to your gate. A special shout-out to your TSA agent who barked out a laugh after reading your ‘Dead Inside But Still Horny’ t-shirt when they made you take off your hoodie and place it in a bin to be screened. Never in your life had you related more to Eminem’s description of “palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy” than you did right now.
If you didn’t have some water soon, you’d be joining him in the vomit on the sweater portion of the song. Luckily, Steve threw you a water bottle before the mouth sweats could really set in. You gulped it down heartily and then chucked the plastic bottle at his head.
“Uncalled for,” he accused indignantly, ignoring your scowl and narrowed eyes. “We made it, didn’t we?”
“You had to carry me on the plane,” you point out, knowing it’s not one of your finer moments. 
He had to shift his backpack around to carry it on his chest and gave you a piggyback ride to your seats, much to your embarrassment. But in your defense, your legs were about to give out and it seemed to cheer up the holiday travelers on the plane as Steve apologized with nods and shrugs, as if to say ‘what can you do?’ accompanied by a charming smile.
As he slipped you into your row, you heard a woman in front of you say, “Well, if that isn’t the sweetest thing.” A nudge to her husband seated next to her to ask, “Richard, why didn’t you do that for me?” His responding chuckle was warm and bright.
You ducked down to situate yourself in the seat, buckling the seatbelt and settling in. Steve slid in next to you, taking the middle seat because he’s a heathen with no concept of personal space, and opened his backpack. You wondered what you’d do to pass the time for the nearly five-hour flight and were interrupted by Steve when he handed you a pair of Sony headphones.
“If this is part of your Christmas escapades, I will be terribly upset.”
He shrugged, nonchalant, “Santa said to give ‘em to you now, I’m just following orders here.”
You mumbled obscenities to yourself, mindful of the tiny ears on the plane while Steve laughed at you. After a few futile minutes attempting to pair your phone to the headphones, he took over. You glanced out of the window, watching as the ground crew loaded the cargo hold before take-off.
Steve, damn him, could never really warrant your prolonged anger– this trip was, by far, the nicest thing anyone had ever done for you. And you found it difficult to be mad at him for breaking the gift-giving rules, but, rest assured, he’d be getting a talking to later.
He passed your phone back to you and opted to test your headphones for you. Opening Spotify, you tapped on your Liked Songs playlist and scrolled until finding something acceptable. Steve’s bright smile at the opening notes of “Last Christmas” was worth it.
“Think that’ll do it,” he says with a wink, placing the headphones securely around your ears. 
You pause the song and reveal an ear, “What’ll you do?”
He digs through his bag again and pulls out his copy of Midnight in Chernobyl. You shudder at the thought of reading about such gruesome things as he opens the cover and thumbs at the pages. 
“Okay, enjoy that, comrade,” you joke, pulling the headphones to rest against your neck as you prepare to watch and listen to the flight attendant’s safety presentation. “What,” you ask to his raised brow and smirk, “One of us should be prepared.”
He huffs a laugh and winds his fingers between yours on the armrest, giving you a reassuring squeeze. Setting the book down to mark his page, open against his thigh, he scrolls through his phone, tapping out a missive or two.
“Oh shit,” you said, remembering the holiday plans with the group, “Shouldn’t we let Nance and them know we’re bailing?”
Steve smiles and hands you his phone. You quickly read through the loft groupchat.
👊fight club 👊
bucko 🤠: what, no goodbyes?
dumbass 🤘: no glove, no love stevie baby
steeb 🖕: you can both fuck off (derogatory)
bucko 🤠: [enter two clowns] 🤡🤡
nwa 🔪: he didn’t have time for goodbyes because he was late AS USUAL
steeb 🖕: sent an image [selfie of Steve carrying Trouble onto the plane, piggyback]
dumbass 🤘: damn, she looks straight wrecked homie 🥵
You scoffed and typed back a response to Eddie.
steeb 🖕: [looks out onto a sea of idiots] hell
bucko 🤠: don’t you mean hello?
nwa 🔪: that you trouble?
dumbass 🤘: babe, what the fuck is wrong with you
steeb 🖕: it all started back in ‘92, a calamity was a brewin’
nwa 🔪: love you babes, text us when you land 😘
steeb 🖕has liked this message
bucko 🤠: 😘😘😘 kisses for my bitches
steeb 🖕: bye nance & robs, love you lots! eds, swiggity swoot im comin for you 🔪🔪🔪
dumbass 🤘: god damnit
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As it so happened, your trip was about seven hours, all told. After landing in San Francisco, you had to make a connecting flight and had a brief layover. Just long enough for Steve to run to a Peet’s Coffee and grab something for a snack before you boarded the next flight.
He returned with a cappuccino for you and some snacks from a news vendor. You took the cup gratefully and warmed your hands against the cardboard cup. Steve sipped from his own cup, taking the seat next to you in the terminal. 
“What’d you get?”
He shrugs, swallowing the coffee down, “The usual, an americano.”
“Ugh,” you scoff, “Boring.”
“Well, one of us needs to be awake.” 
You eye him suspiciously.
“This flight is about an hour and then we have to drive.” He rolls his neck, with a sigh, “Only like, twenty minutes, give or take with traffic.”
“Are you planning to murder me and dump my body into the Pacific?”
“What!?” he squawks, turning a few heads your way. “No, never. When did you get so paranoid?”
You sip daintily from the cup once more, “Born this way, take it up with my mother.”
He rolls his eyes and gets up to toss his empty cup into the recycling bin. “I will do no such thing, your mother is a gem.”
You elbow him in the side as he sits back down. “Whatever you say, big guy.”
They call for boarding not long after and you shuffle back onto another plane. The flight to Monterey is under an hour, not enough time to do much of anything but nap, really. Upon landing, Steve shoulders his backpack once more, hand extended behind him for you to hold as you disembark onto the tarmac and walk inside to collect your bags. 
You assure him that you know which bags to grab from the carousel before he leaves you to pickup the rental car. Grabbing your phone you let Nance know you’ve landed but still have no idea what Steve’s planning; she’s less than helpful in her response.
natty light 💯: nope, i’m not enabling you’re snooping
trouble 👁️👄👁️: whatever could you possibly mean? me, a snoop?
natty light 💯: yes, and the worst of them too.
trouble 👁️👄👁️: you’re no fun.
natty light 💯: babe, i love you. but for once in your life, could you let someone do something nice for you and just enjoy it?
Well, that wasn’t what you were expecting.
Steve returns to your side as you spot the first of your luggage and then goes to get it himself. Less work for you, you suppose. 
The sun makes its final descent beneath the horizon as you walk to the parking lot. Steve’s looking for the numbered parking spot the concierge gave him, mumbling to himself.
“Oh, there it is!”
He jogs toward a white two-seater convertible, a Mazda MX-5, whatever the fuck that is, and seems pleased with himself. He loads your bags into the trunk and walks you over to the passenger side door, opening it for you. 
“Very gentlemanly of you,” you tease, sliding into the leather seat.
“Oh, be sure to tell my mom,” he smiles back at you, “She’ll be thrilled those etiquette classes were good for something.”
He shuts the door and crosses in front of the car before settling into the driver’s seat. Steve adjusts the rearview mirror and seat before pairing with the bluetooth and passing his phone off to you. 
“Did you already type in the directions?”
“Yeah, just pick something for the drive.”
You nod and settle on something from one of his numerous playlists. Preoccupied with the music selection, you don’t notice you’ve pulled out of the airport parking lot until Steve merges onto CA-1. Your attention drifts to the center console and gear shift, Steve’s hand resting there and shifting occasionally while his feet work the pedals.
“Throw back, huh? Feeling nostalgic?” he asks, changing lanes, commenting on the song rattling through the speakers. 
“I guess,” you say, distracted by his hand on the gearshift and concentration on the road. “Is this a manual?”
His brow raises in surprise, “Yeah, stick shift. Cars like this usually are.”
“Oh,” you lean back into the seat, turning to catch some scenery. “I didn’t know you could drive stick.”
He sighs, “Yeah, my dad insisted I learn how. But Hopper’s the one that taught me.”
“Really?”
His eyes flit to you briefly, before looking to the road again. “Yep,” he pops the percussive ‘p’ and smiles. “He was overseeing the driving program at the time, some zero hour bullshit that I hated since I had to get up at ass o’clock.”
“Huh,” you reply, lost in thought. “I guess that’s when Eddie started picking me up for school.” 
The song changes over to another old favorite, “Two Weeks” by Grizzly Bear as you take in the scenery. To your right, the Pacific Ocean laps against the California shoreline. It’s growing dark, but enough light remains for you to spy the crests of white foam as the waves crash against the shore. 
Steve handles the curves of the of PCH adeptly, and you’re only momentarily distracted by his hands moving over the wheel and gearshift. It stirs something uncomfortable in your abdomen, as if your stomach flipped or something. If you could cross your legs more, you would, you’re all too aware of the tightening in your thighs— thank god for opaque Lululemon leggings.
The rest of the drive passes, gorgeous scenery giving way to the parks and downtown of Carmel-by-the-Sea. Tiredness settles over you like a warm blanket, the exhaustion from the previous night’s insomnia on top of a travel day. You hope to sleep well tonight.
He turns onto a residential road and drives up hill, passing beautiful homes and gardens along the way. Must be making your way to the AirBnB. 
“Pretty sure my aunt and uncle have a place here,” you muse, “It’s a rental property of theirs, I think.”
Steve hums in agreement, so it must be something you mentioned before. He pulls into a driveway with a black S.U.V. and parks the car. 
“This is us,” he says turning toward you, fingers drumming anxiously against the steering wheel.
It’s a big house, too big for just the two of you, surely. Something from a storybook with a gate to the front garden and a Juliet balcony above the French doors at the entrance. You’re about to say how it’s too much, that there’s no reason the two of you need an entire house to yourselves when the one of the front doors opens and a head peeks out
“Merry Christmas you two!”
A gasp escapes the cavern of your chest, because that’s a voice you’d know anywhere. You barely make it out of the car to careen into your mother’s warm embrace, stifling tears as you go. She squeezes you tight, one arm wrapped around your back while the other cradles your head to her chest.
“Hi sweetie,” she sniffles, fingers tangling in your hair and bringing your forehead to rest against her own, “How’s my favorite daughter?”
You manage a laugh, pulling away to wipe the tears from your cheeks. At a loss for words, all you can get out is, “How?”
She responds with a slow smile, eyes landing on Steve with a subtle nod. “He planned the whole thing, swore us all to secrecy.”
And Steve, for his part, dutifully unloads the trunk like it’s just another day. Like he hasn’t planned the world’s greatest Christmas present for you. You listen as your mother chats about colluding with your best friend for the better part of a month as the two of them worked out dates and bookings.
He waves at the pair of you and lugs the bags up the cobblestone drive to the door.
Your mother tuts and tucks wayward strands of hair behind your ears. “Now honey,” she says, “You know we adore Steve…”
Blinking, you face her once more, knowing all too well what she’s getting at, “Yes, you’ve made that very clear mom.”
She smirks, “And you’re sure there’s nothing you’d like to share, just between us girls?”
Her laugh is infectious and drowns out your scoff as Steve stops at the entryway. “Already up to no good, I can tell.” He readjusts the strap of his backpack and gives your mom a hug with his free arm, “Hey mom, long time no see.”
She playfully smacks his chest, “You troublemaker, I saw you just last week.” She pulls him in for a hug and lays a kiss on his temple, “So, how did the surprise go?”
Steve looks to you with a raised brow, biting his bottom lip. “Uh, looks like she’s still in shock,” he says, “We should probably get her inside.”
Allowing yourself to be led inside, you walk in a daze behind your mother, Steve just a step behind you with the luggage. 
Your mother shouts that you’ve arrived, alerting your father and brother in the kitchen as they work on dinner. Your dad responds with his exuberant, “All right!” while your brother takes the steps down from the kitchen to give you a hug.
“Hey sis,” he says releasing you, “Pretty wild that Steve-o was able to pull this off, huh?”
“Oh yeah,” you parrot back, “Pretty wild.”
Your mother looks on in interest, curious eyes and pursed lips. Steve greets your brother with a handshake, turns to you with a mock-salute, and seemingly abandons you to your family.
Rude.
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Steve takes your mom’s directions to locate the remaining bedroom for the pair of you. There’s only one bed, which seems to be par for the course at this point. He tosses the backpack on a nearby chair and leaves the luggage by the closet. 
Falling against the bed, he checks his phone for any missed messages. There’s the usual bullshit in the groupchat, Eddie rightfully fearing for his life after your threat. Followed by a text from Robin asking how he’s doing and a missed Facetime call from his mother.
With a sigh, he sits back up and calls her back. She picks up on the second ring, camera decidedly not on her face. “Ma,” he says, “You gotta hold the phone in front of your face, it’s not a phone call.”
“Oh.”
She maneuvers the camera to show her face, impeccably made up (as usual), as she sits in the hotel room waiting on his father for some event or another.
“So you made it to California?”
“Yeah, we just got to the house.” He scrubs a hand down his face, feeling more tired than he lets on. “I think she likes it?”
“Well, I would hope so,” she tuts, “You put an awful lot of work and money into this.”
“Ma–”
“No, no,” she sighs, “I know it’s yours to do with as you want, I’m just saying.”
“Well, don’t,” he glowers.
“Now Steven,” she admonishes, “We like her, she’s a lovely girl and you both had a similar upbringing…”
He rolls his eyes as she begins the litany of why-aren’t-you-together-yet and cards a hand through his hair. 
It’s really none of her business, either way. And it’s pretty obvious that if Steve had his way, you’d have already been an item. But no, some asshole had to propose and then break your heart. He flexes his hand, mindful of his sore joints from the punch.
“And I know her mother has shown you the heirloom jewelry already and we have some exquisite pieces from your grandmothers as well—”
“Wait, what?”
His mother stops her prattling, brows raised. “Is this not a proposal trip?”
His eyes nearly pop out of his skull, “Fu–,” he clears his throat, “No, absolutely not. Mom, where did you even get that idea?”
She has enough sense to seem chastened, “Well, you were working on that ring for her, weren’t you?”
He swallows audibly. “Yes, that’s technically true…”
“And it’s not an engagement ring?”
“Uh, no.”
She scoffs and balks, “Well whatever could it be for if you’re not proposing?”
At this point, Steve’s father overhears and comes into frame. “Steven’s proposing?”
His mother turns to her husband, ignoring Steve, “To the neighbor girl, you remember her.”
“Oh, right,” his father adjusts his tie. “Are you sure about this, son?”
“I’m not–” Steve pinches the bridge of his nose, “That’s not happening you guys.”
“Apologies,” his mother says, “Apparently he’s not proposing but has some ring for a Christmas present.”
“Could be mistaken for an engagement,” his father replies, “You’re giving her ring on Christmas, nearly twenty percent of engagements happen between Christmas and New Year’s.”
How the fuck would he even know that?
“Your father and I were engaged on New Year’s.”
“That’s right, dear, and it worked out perfectly fine for us.”
Steve sighs in frustration, falling back against the pillows, “D’you two want to continue this conversation by yourselves or…?”
“There’s no need to be touchy Steven,” his mother cautions, “We just wonder if this is the best time to gift her a ring if you’re not to be engaged.”
“If you’d let me explain,” he says in a measured tone, “I could clear up your misconceptions.”
“Fine, go on then.”
He takes a breath in and explains how the ring isn’t an engagement ring but a replica of your grandmother’s ring that you’d lost at sleep-away camp when you were thirteen. Apparently, your grandmother in her infinite wisdom had deemed thirteen a mature enough age to keep and wear fine jewelry. Despite keeping it in your duffle bag and not wearing it all during camp, it had been lost, and you were utterly devastated.
“Her grandmother passed late that summer,” Steve reminds his parents, “We went to the funeral that September.”
“Oh,” his mother breathes out, hand to her heart, “I had no idea…” she trails off, looking to Steve’s father to carry the conversation.
He clears his throat, “That’s a thoughtful gift, son. Just make sure she takes your meaning when opening it.”
Steve allows him a brief smile, “I don’t think that will be an issue, but thanks.”
They say their goodbyes not long after that and you call out that dinner is ready.
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Dinner is a casual affair, curried salmon with an arugula salad courtesy of your mom and dad, Syrah and after dinner weed provided by your brother.
“Can always count on your brother for a decent joint,” Steve says passing it to you.
You take a pull, holding the joint just so between your fingers. Steve used to joke that you hold pretty much anything like a French woman holds a cigarette and you (unfortunately) have to agree.
As it turned out, there was one bed in your room but, it was a California king so there’ll be tons of space between you; not like the trip in November at all.
Your parents had graciously given the pair of you the primary suite with the Juliet balcony and views to the Pacific. Incidentally, this meant you had the luxury bathroom of the house with a jetted tub and ridiculously large shower.
Must be nice to have money.
“Steve,” you say after a while, relaxing just enough to lower your inhibitions, “This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”
He’s facing you, but only partially illuminated from the bedroom lights. An inkling of a smile graces his lips, “You deserve it y’know.” But what he wants to say is you deserve the world.
A soft laugh, “I don’t know about that,” you take another hit and pass it back to Steve, fingers brushing. “I would reign in your expectations for Christmas morning, pal.”
He takes a final drag before snuffing out the roach, eyes landing on you once again. “Really? I shouldn’t expect some gift that’s equal parts incredibly thoughtful and altogether ridiculous?”
“Okay,” you laugh. “If that’s what you’re anticipating, then you might be in the right ballpark.”
He pours another glass of the Syrah for you, the deep red hue swirling in the glass. He passes the wine glass to you, depositing it in your hand. You take a sip, savoring the notes of blackberry and tobacco. 
Steve pours himself a glass too, effectively killing the bottle and setting it down on a nearby table. “Damn,” he says, “Your brother dating that sommelier really paid off.”
You crack a smile, watching as he leans his forearms against the railing, glass in his hand. Rumpled and tired from a day’s travel, but still cutting a quite the figure in the soft glow of the moon. Unless that’s the wine… or weed talking.
Shit.
“Yeah,” you allow, “Though she wasn’t the biggest fan of my super-taster pallet.” 
“Did I know you were a super-taster?”
You shrug, “It’s my party trick. Good for those fancy dinner parties you drag me to.”
“Yeah,” he snorts, downing a swig of wine. “How so?”
“Well,” you begin, “When I met Vivian over the summer, she prepped a white wine tasting for us, which was super nice.” You lean against the railing, trying to recollect the moment. “So, we begin with the usual suspects, your Sauvignon Blancs, Viogniers, a Chenin Blanc, you know.”
“Oh yes, my extensive knowledge of summer wines,” he teases, “Please continue.” 
“Riiight, so no problems there– was on my best behavior and everything.” You pause to sip your wine, “But then, we get to the Pinot Grigio.”
“Gross.”
“I know!” you agree. “So, we sample that and she asks how it is, the usual stuff. And everyone goes around commenting on a few of the notes they’re able to discern, all well and good. That is, until she gets around to me.”
“Uh oh,” Steve says into his glass, seeing where your story is headed.
“Uh oh is right. Because when I take another sip and ponder the taste of the vintage, I correctly, mind you, identify a note of ... plastic pool toy.”
Steve spits out the remainder of his wine over the balcony and onto the flowers beneath him. “What?” he nearly shouts turning back to you, “P-plastic pool toy?”
“Yeah,” you confirm, “Like those cheap-o inflatable plastic balls in a net at Target.”
He fails to close his mouth, jaw agape. “How could you possibly know what those taste like?”
You shrug, “Pool volleyball,” and finish your drink. “Robs bought some earlier that summer and we had that stupid tournament at your parent’s place. Nance spiked the damn blue marbled ball into my face, so that’s how I know that Pinot Grigio tasted like plastic pool toy - with just a whisper of chlorine to round it out.”
Steve, gathering his senses, laughs softly, “And how did she take that?”
“Oh, Viv?” you say over your shoulder, making your way back inside for the night. “She agreed with me, after doing her own taste test, of course. My brother warned her of my tendencies before the trip, so she was well-prepared.”
“You’re something else.” He says, gathering the empty bottle and glasses from the balcony and shuts the door after him. 
You curtsy and turn to locate your luggage. 
Steve leans back against the door, setting the glasses and bottle on a side table, and observes as you dawdle throughout the room. Suitcase set down on a chair and unzipped hastily to reveal various packing cubes labelled by occasion in Nancy’s deft hand. You rise slowly, lips screwed to the side in perturbation and eyes narrowed.
You fix him with a look, “You and me, we’re fighting later.”
“Oh, sure,” is all he says, struggling to mask his smile.
You turn back to the task at hand, finding pajamas, because you are not repeating the last sleeping arrangement you had with Steve. Which amounted to stealing one of his shirts, sleeping in that and your underwear because you, frazzled as usual, failed to pack pajamas but had somehow stuffed three coats into your duffle bag.
And you know that Nancy, the perennial Girl Scout, won’t let you down. 
Digging until you find the ‘sleepwear’ cube, unhelpfully next to the one labelled ‘pjs’ in something that is definitely not Nance’s handiwork.
Curiosity getting the better of you, you open the mystery package and nearly drop the damn thing on the ground at the shock of its contents. Heat rising from your chest to neck, you make a garbled sound and Steve thinks it best to excuse himself for the moment. He tells you he’ll be back soon and goes to return the glasses to the kitchen. You nod dumbly, packing cube crushed to your chest until he closes the door.
In a panic, you pull the silk and lace from the zippered bag. And it’s not much better when you have all the items laid out in front of you, a risqué and skimpy picture of what someone called ‘pajamas.’ You inspect the handwriting on the cube once more to no avail. A scrap of paper falls out of as you throw it across the room.
‘Merry Christmas big boy! xxxx, Eds’
Finding your phone, you furiously type out a message.
trouble 👁️👄👁️: 🤜 this is my fist coming for your ass
bandcamp 👿: thanks for the heads up, plenty of time to prep!
trouble 👁️👄👁️: trouble sent an image [burgundy lingerie set and sheer robe]
you think you’re funny?
bandcamp 👿: hilarious, actually. surprised you’re breaking it out this soon though
trouble 👁️👄👁️: lsadhflksajd
bandcamp 👿 ‘liked’ this message
MIND YOUR OWN FUCKING BUSINESS
Hearing Steve in the hall, you drop your phone and stuff everything back into its packing cube before he can see anything, cursing Eddie the entire time.
You shove the incriminating the cube back into your suitcase just as Steve opens the door. He pauses and tilts his head to the left.
“Everything okay there?”
Because your elbow deep in the suitcase like you’re hiding something and have gone about ten different shades of red at this point. Your eyes grow wide when you realize Eddie’s note is still at large and currently residing somewhere in this room.
“Yeah, of course,” you grab the correct packing cube and toiletry bag before escaping to the bathroom and slamming the door shut.
“...okay.”
Steve’s phone pings as you start the shower, banging things down on the countertop aggressively. He’ll ask you about it later. He opens his phone to reply to Robin’s earlier message only to see something from Eddie.
Which is weird, because Eddie only texts Steve if he has to.
He opens the thread and reads.
dumbass 🤘: don’t say i never did anything for ya
dumbass 🤘has sent 2 images
[Image 1 a screenshot of a conversation between Eddie and Trouble]
[Image 2 a photo of a burgundy lingerie set and sheer robe]
Steve, taken aback, drops his phone in response.
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Needless to say, the rest of the night went about as well as it could. Upon exiting the shower, you discover that the sleepwear in the packing cube is not, in fact, your own. Instead, it’s brand new with the tags still on for chrissake. Holding the offending garments in your hand, you secure your towel on your chest with your opposite hand and exit the steamy bathroom.
“Harrington” you say, jolting him from whatever he was doing on his phone. You wait for him to glance your way, and clear your throat when he does. “The fuck is this?”
“Uh,” he swallows audibly, “Pajamas?”
“No shit Sherlock,” you grouse, tossing them on his face, “But they’re not mine so the mystery continues.” 
Removing the shorts and shirt from his face, he runs his fingers against the material. “Nance tried to go to yours and grab some stuff,” he says by way of explanation, “But your ex was cagey and shitty with date and times for her to do so,” he sighs and rubs the back of his neck. “And I just figured new stuff would be easier?”
“Oh,” you say, feeling mildly foolish. “That’s— I’m sorry about that, about him.”
“Hey, no,” he says getting up from the bed and walking toward you, “You don’t ever need to apologize for his asshole behavior.” 
He hands you the blue pajama set with white moons and stars with a soft smile, “They’re cute, right?”
You screw your mouth the side and narrow your eyes, “Yes, but that’s not the point, Daddy Morebucks.” You take the shirt and shorts from him with a huff, “I guess these will do, if you insist.”
“Oh, I do,” he replies with a smirk, crossing his arms over his chest. When you turn back to the bathroom, he eyes a scrap of paper under your side of the bed and picks it up.
He reads it with a sigh, fucking Eddie. And taps out a reply.
steeb 🖕: too soon, but well played. much appreciated
dumbass 🤘 ‘liked’ this message
dumbass 🤘: don’t fuck it up and wait too long
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By the time Steve returns from his shower, he finds you snuggled down in bed singing to “Yule Shot Your Eye Out.”
“Guess we figured out the bluetooth then,” he says pulling back the covers and slipping in beside you. 
“Don't come home for Christmas / you're the last thing I want to see,” you croon and hand him the remote.
He joins in with a “Merry Christmas, I could care less,” and cues up the movie for the night. 
You turn off the music. “Steve,” you say, turning on your side to face him, “Are those… leopards on your pajama pants?”
“Obviously.”
“Huh, okay. Just checking.”
The movie in question, which, awkwardly, is the Ryan Reynolds favorite Just Friends. But it was a tradition at this point, and who were you to buck off a time-honored classic such as this? A coward, that’s who.
Because you’re out like a light, and the irony is not lost on Steve when Chris Brander knocks on Jaimie’s door, in an attempt to explain this shitty behavior: “I’d rather have you in my life as a friend than nothing at all.”
He pauses the movie with a sigh, feeling incredibly called out, and hazards a glance at you before he kills the lights. And, sure enough, you’ve wrangled that dumbass pillow over your eyes like some hostage that’s had a bag thrown over their head.
You look adorable but insane; you insist on sleeping with it because it’s like a “hug for your brain,” whatever that means.
So, despite knowing he’ll be momentarily terrified waking up next to that particular sight tomorrow morning, Steve can’t wait to celebrate Christmas with you and your family. He’s only a little worried about the rest of your gifts, and a mildly curious about the lingerie set from Eddie.
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You jolt from a stupor with a gasp. The room has darkened, barely lit by the soft glow of the moon and stars. The blanket from your shoulders has slipped off some time ago, gathering to pool at your feet. Blinking sluggishly, you realize you’re no longer grasping for dear life at the edge of the bed.
Cypress and vetiver. Faint cool aftershave and the vital heartbeat of warm boy. Something heavy and warm draped over your previously cold shoulders.
Another dream.
Yet, it feels more corporeal than ever before and the drumming in your chest strikes a thrilled beat. Your hands wildly pat him up and down, drawing forth a dazed rousing at your antics. You don’t stop, though, running up his bare torso, the fingers tangling in the soft curls on his chest, skating to his strong jaw and chin. Then hair, those long chestnut strands lightly curled at the edges, grown a little longer and wild.
“Steve?”
“Yeah, honey.”
You bristle in disbelief, distracted by the realization with some embarrassment that you’ve been sleeping on top of him for who knows how long.  Stupid syllables stuck like gooey taffy in your mouth, welding your teeth together in a solid disappointment. 
“Y'alright?”
You nod, untangling yourself from him slowly and retreating back to your side of the bed. With a twist of his torso, Steve slips his palm beneath yours, touches each pad of his fingers to your own, bending each fingertip to graze you. 
His eyes search you intently, a little confused, a little relieved.
“I just–” you breathe out, words stuck in your throat. Unable to look him in the eye. “Thank you.”
It’s a whisper in the night, soft and delicate falling from your lips.
“For this, for everything,” you continue breathlessly. 
‘Course, he thinks. I’d do anything to see you smile. Inside of him, an all too familiar weight, heavy with promise.
His selfish heart. His stupid, cowardly, guilty heart. His broken, broken heart. He doesn’t even care to gather it up this time. Or the next.
But it’s Steve’s mouth that opens, sides of his tongue already bent over his molars as he whispers a reply. “Anytime, doll.”
He runs his fingers in his hair, sweeping it away from his forehead, stifling a yawn, eyes your pretty, pretty mouth in a smile. Still dark out, some mysterious hour both too late and too early to be awake, and he couldn’t see you at all—blurred at the edges and wrapped in shadow— but he knew you well enough to know when you were smiling.
He imagines the plush curve of your mouth, how it pressed hot and heavy against his own. You slip away, back to the far side of the bed, hand falling from his. 
His misses your warmth, but turns over anyway. Knowing he’ll struggle to sleep with the chilled distance between your bodies. 
But, his heart is selfish and it always has been. Even now, when it thumps so noisily he’s certain you can hear it. Even now, when you’re tucked in, wonderful and warm, close enough to touch, to hold.
And Steve knows, just like he knew last night with the crush of your lips against him, he’d always–always want you, in whatever way you’d have him.
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Timothy Klitz Headcanons
Summary: My personal headcanons for Timothy Klitz.
Content warning: sexual themes.
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This mf would definitely end up landing the most attractive person EVER to walk the earth.
He DEFINITELY kept his hair long as he got older, but got rid of the bangs and actually started to style it, kinda like a rockstar hair cut, but less curly? ykwim? more wavy.
Listens to metal, nu metal, ICP, Gorillaz, Radiohead, and early rap like Eminem/Sir-Mix-A-Lot, and 110% listens to Weird Al Yankovic.
Literally his whole closet consists of slacks and button ups with the occasional t-shirt and jeans thrown in there. MAYBE two hoodies.
Got called pretty by a girl once for having long hair and that's why he keeps his hair long bc he heard that if a girl calls a guy pretty, they are serious.
I fully believe this, based on how he acts in the movie, porn makes him EXTREMELY uncomfortable. Like, he gets physical reactions and he gets upset because it makes him THAT uncomfortable.
He's very smart. Like, this dude has a calculator in his pants. Bro is Sheldon from Big Bang Theory. Bazinga.
Loves the Resident Evil games. Literally LOVES them.
He doesn't like reading unless its comic books. Illiterate piece of shit (i love him <3)
His favorite color is green. I'm not even saying that because Paul Dano played the Riddler. He just seems like he likes green.
Knows how to play the guitar, bass guitar, and electric guitar and is VERY good at it
He can do a MEAN impression of Dexter from Dexter's Laboratory
He likes horror movies a lot and also really loves the Austin Power's movies
unironically says "Shagadelic, baby!"
Has contacts but he's usually too lazy to put them in so he wears glasses mainly
He can handle his alcohol very well, it takes a lot for him to get drunk.
Bro is attracted to queer afab people. Like...I literally can't see him being attracted to ANYONE else. If he sees a AFAB person dressed like a hybrid of Jesse Pinkman/Paris Hilton, he's BARKING
he's a virgin, but he knows a lot about sex and knows how to do lots of sexual stuff (he just knows a lot about sex bc of Eli)
He also knows A LOT of kinks bc of Eli
He likes being dominant and on top a lot, maybe occasionally being a bottom it just depends. He likes choking and praising a lot, MAYBE degrading if the moment is hot enough. I feel like if he got called daddy he'd jizz his pants tbh...
He's a god at aftercare
loves Neapolitan ice-cream and always gets ice cream in a waffle cone
He loves being snuggled up to and called handsome a lot. He's got very low self-esteem so when he gets complimented it means a lot to him.
will listen to his lover talk about their interests for hours on end, even if he doesn't fully understand it
he pulls autistic bitches
bro might be autistic too...
burns in the sun, bro does not tan
gets lots of freckles tho
he loves the rain and how it smells afterwards
had a pet goldfish and it died like 2 days later, devastated him as a child and forced his parents to hold a funeral. grieved for months.
sings really good and if his lover is stressed out and cant sleep, he'll sing a Radiohead song to them (cries)
one time for the talent show in 5th grade he tried to sing a Korn song but all he did was yell gibberish into the mic with the occasional 'FUCK!' until a staff member came and took him off stage. there were lots of complaints from parents.
he's a really shy and nerdy guy but he can be pretty 'intimidating' and 'ballsy' when he needs/wants to.
LOVES teasing his lover in public, its like a fun game to him
ok thats all that comes to mind >:3
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l1zzzards · 1 year
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WITHOUT ME
Fluffy fic about you getting ready for bed playing some music whilst your gf Ellie sneaks in the shared bathroom and joins you. Overall, just a short and cute fic. First time writing and posting on Tumblr. THIS WAS RUSHED,BUT I HAD AN IDEA AND IDK...
You had been in the bathroom doing your skin routine and ending it with brushing your teeth. You put your playlist on shuffle earlier and “without me” by Eminem just began playing. You were wearing a comfy oversized t-shirt and your underwear. You took up your tooth brush and toothpaste as you sway and hum to the beat.
The door creaks slightly as Ellie’s auburn hair peeks in, she opens the door meeting your gaze smiling. You kept on brushing your teeth and she moved closer slightly hip-bumping you, you scooted to the side so that she could also use the sink. You backed up a bit as she washed her face and you started dancing. Twirling around and doing silly arm gestures, finger guns and the good old pulling rope towards her.
Your now holding her hips, jokingly humping her ass with your hips. This catches her attention as she is now drying her face. She lowers the towel before hanging it up to dry. You bite down on your toothbrush to embrace her with both of your arms around her stomach. She makes a turn to face you as you smile at her with your mouth full of toothpaste. “why don’t you spit that out before I kiss you ay?” she half-jokes. You roll your eyes spitting out the toothpaste mixed with saliva
“Now this looks like a job for me
So everybody, just follow me”
Ellie humms in a quiet tone
You turn around facing her, interlocking hands with hers slowly lifting both up to your mouth before planting a kiss on her hands.
“'Cause we need a little, controversy
'Cause it feels so empty, without me”
‘she continues
“I said this looks like a job for me
So everybody, just follow me”
You join her
'Cause we need a little, controversy
'Cause it feels so empty, without me
You both sing along to the silly little song you adore so much.
AGAIN THIS WAS RUSHED,BUT I HAVE MORE OF MY WORK THATS BETTER? COMING SOON!!!!
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biracy · 9 months
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Matching couple t-shirts that say "feminist women" and "Eminem"
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may the best artist win ~ eminem
word count: 1754
request?: yes!
@thatonegirlthatlikesthings “Helllloooo I’ve been all in your page recently and I absolutely love your eminem stories I was wondering if I could request one with him and reader where she’s also a singer and they’re up for the same award and they make a bet between them where whoever wins gets to do whatever to other a little smut
I love you and your writing HAPPY HOLIDAYS 🤟🏽😭😭❤️❤️”
description: in which they both get nominated for the same award and decide to make it a game between them
pairing: eminem x female!reader
warnings: swearing, smut (oral, fem receiving, a little degrading but only like one mention)
masterlist (one, two)
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Marshall had made it very clear throughout his career what his thoughts on the Grammy’s were. He vowed he would never return to the Grammy’s ceremony, even if he was nominated.
But then you were nominated for Song of the Year at the same time that he was. It was your first time being nominated for a big award show like that, so obviously you were excited. It excited you even more because Marshall was nominated for the same award and you liked the idea of potentially beating him after being nominated for the first time.
“There’s eight other nominees, honey, there’s no guarantee either of us will win,” he reminded you.
“You’re ruining the fun of my fantasy,” you teased. “I want to win my first Grammy after being nominated against my boyfriend. It would bring me so much satisfaction.”
Marshall raised an eyebrow at you. “Oh yeah? Want to place a bet on that?”
His question sparked your interest. “What kind of bet are we talking here?”
“If I win, you blow me in the car ride home.”
You were used to Marshall being very forward about anything sex wise, but it still took you by surprise sometimes. This was one of those times. For some reason, you didn’t expect his terms to the bet to be so outright sexual.
You crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow. “And what do I get if I win?”
“That’s up to you to decide.”
You took a moment to consider it. If Marshall was going dirty with his, then you wanted to go dirty with yours too. And you wanted it to be just as naughty as him wanting road head on the way home from the award show.
“Okay,” you said. “If I win, you go down on me in the bathroom at the arena.”
He seemed impressed with your decision. “Really? That one is a bit dangerous to try. Are you sure it’s what you want?”
“What, are you scared to do it because you know I’ll win?”
He took hold of your hand and gave it a shake. “You have a deal.”
The night of the Grammy’s came quicker than you expected. As usual, Marshall was wearing a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, a jacket and, of course, his signature Kangol hat. You decided to dress up a little, with a somewhat casual dress that came just to your knees. You weren’t concerned over dressing up too much since the two of you were skipping the red carpet anyways.
The worst part about shows like this was that the more important awards, like your Song of the Year, were left until the end of the show, meaning you had to sit through endless speeches and attempts at jokes from the hosts and presenters. If it weren’t for this bet, you’d probably ditch the rest of the show.
At least the performances were good.
When the presenters for Song of the Year came on stage, all thoughts of the bet left your mind and instead you were full of nerves. What if neither of your names were called? Or worse, what if they called your name and you embarrassed yourself while accepting the award? On live television, where everyone in the entire world would see it and it would live on the Internet for the rest of your life.
Noticing your nervousness, Marshall reached over and took your hand. You looked over at him and your nerves almost completely melted away.
You almost missed the announcer calling your name if it wasn’t for your song loudly playing from the speakers and everyone around you looking at you with joy and excitement. It took a minute for the news to register before the excitement set in. You stood from your seat and planted a kiss on Marshall’s lips before making your way to the stage. You were glad now you hadn’t wore a long dress and risked tripping on the way to the stage.
You accepted the award and managed to give a speech that actually sounded coherent through the combination of excitement and nerves you were feeling. You were sure the camera could pick up how much your hands were shaking, but you deserved it given the circumstances. You smiled one more time for the audience and the cameras as the music played you off the stage. You followed the presenters to the backstage area where other artists and producers were conversing. They cheered as you walked in, congratulating you on your win.
You were shocked when Marshall walked up to you, not even noticing that he had left your seats to come back stage. He immediately put a hand on the back of your head and pulled you into another, more passionate congratulatory kiss.
“Why aren’t you in your seat?” you asked, a little dumbly but you were too dazed by excitement and by the sudden kiss.
“I believe we had a bet,” he said. “One that you just won.”
From the minute the presentation for the award started, you had totally forgotten about the bet. You didn’t even have time to gloat to Marshall about you winning over him, nor did think to do so anyways.
But he was right. You did win the bet.
You politely excused yourselves and left the backstage area to find the nearest bathroom. You went in first to make sure no one else was there, and when the coast was clear you opened the door for Marshall to join you. The minute he stepped inside, his lips were on yours again. They were rough and full of lust and passion. Despite having lost the bet, it was like he was just as excited for this outcome as you were.
With your lips still pressed together, Marshall backed you towards the counter. He put his hands on your hips and hoisted you onto the counter, breaking the kiss for just a split second before attacking your lips again. His tongue pressed against your mouth and you opened to let him in. His tongue swirled around your mouth, connecting with yours a few times, before pulling away. You almost grabbed him and pulled him to come back, but stopped when he got down onto his knees in front of you.
You were very glad you wore a short dress.
He didn’t have to push your dress up much since it was already bunched up around your thighs. You had wore a small thong just in case you had won and this was the outcome, which was proving to be a very smart decision on your part.
You gasped as you felt two of his fingers run through your folds, already dripping from the make out session alone.
“You’re already so wet,” he noted. “Just from the idea of me going down on you? You dirty slut.”
You whimpered at the degrading name.
You watched as the bottom part of his face disappeared between your thighs. He eyes were looking up at you as he licked one like stripe from your entrance to your clit. You gasped and reached down to grip his hair. Realizing he still had his hat on, you knocked it to the floor so you could really get a good grip on him.
His hands gripped your thighs, no doubt leaving marks on the sensitive skin. His tongue made quick work of licking at your clit; quick, short strokes mixed with long, slower ones every now and then just to feel you quiver against him. Everyone knew that Marshall was good with his tongue, but you knew just how good he could really be with it.
The brushing of his beard against your inner thighs and your pussy caused a whole new wave of pleasure the run through you. You wanted to watch him while he worked - he looked so concentrated as he devoured your pussy - but your head kept lulling backwards as moans tumbled from your mouth. You knew you should be more quiet since anyone could walk past and hear you, but you weren’t really in the right mind to think about that right now. All you could think about was Marshall’s wet tongue against your swollen clit, and the coil that was beginning to tighten in your stomach.
You tried to push Marshall away. As much as you were enjoying this, you wanted him to fuck you so you could cum on his dick instead. But he resisted your attempts to move away and continued his work.
“M-Marshall, I-I’m gonna...I’m so close,” you stuttered out. “I want you t-to fuck me.”
He looked up at you again and you could tell from the look in his eyes that he wasn’t about to stop any time soon. He was determined to make you cum this way, and that determination was hot enough to set you over the edge. You threw your head back again and let out a cry in pleasure as you felt your orgasm wash over you. You held Marshall’s head in place as he continued to lick over your clit, lapping up your juices.
You rested your head against the mirror behind you and tried to catch your breath. You almost whined when Marshall finally pulled away from your sensitive core, but felt yourself becoming turned on again at the sight of him. His lips were glistening and his beard had some leftovers of your juices on it. He turned on the sink next to you and wet a paper towel in order to wipe his mouth and chin clean.
“I’m surprised you didn’t take up the opportunity to bend me over and fuck me in front of the mirror,” you commented. “I thought it would’ve been really hot to do that. I wanted to feel you inside of me when I came.”
“This was your prize for winning the bet,” he said. “I wanted you to benefit from it.”
You smiled and reached for him. He stood between your legs and gave you a more gentle kiss than the ones you had gotten earlier. You could still taste yourself on his lips, which just helped to turn you on even more once again.
“Well, now that my prize for the bet is over, why don’t you take me home and use me to your relief?” you suggested, looking up at him with the most seductive look you could manage while still coming down from your high.
Marshall smirked at you. “I like the way you think.”
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lowkeyrobin · 3 months
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Jock!reader who's like really nice to everyone and has a crush on Ethan and tries to flirt with him while Ethan is tutoring him and FAILS MISERABLY and Ethan just thinks it the most adorable thing ever ahhhh plss🙏
- ♣️
YES YES YES HELLO ♣️ ANON!!! welcome my third child 🙏🙏🙏🙏 literallt love u sm thank you for this pookie
ETHAN MORGAN ; flirty jock and flustered geek
summary ; jock!reader who has a crush on ethan and fails successfully to flirt with him
warnings ; language, cheesey stuff lol, reader is described as a basketball player but can totally be changed, this also isn't that great tbh
word count ; 1k
masterlist
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You rest your letterman jacket on the back of the chair you sit on, being greeted by Ethan. He opens his binder to the homework in the Geometry packet, and you do the same, mentally preparing yourself. You notice his white binder is covered in stickers and some reference to vampires, witches, the supernatural, and beyond. Ethan was kind of your friend, you were more than acquaintances but you didn't talk outside of Geometry and English class.
You were one of the very few nice people on the basketball team, or maybe you were just a decent person and didn't judge people all too quickly. Otherwise, you didn't mind needing the tutoring from Ethan, you appreciated it really, if you failed another test you could be at risk for getting kicked off the team and you might lose the opportunity for a scholarship to college.
"Okay, so, what exactly do you need help with?" The brunette asks, looking up at you as he runs a hand through his hair, looking a little nervous.
"I just don't know how to like, figure out what shape they are like, how Mr. D wants us to, and like how to find the second base or the height" You explain, "Like, I know how I just can't remember the like, equations, I guess. And when I do, I get the math wrong"
He nods, "Okay, so, you know how to find the areas and perimeters well enough, though, right?"
You nod.
As he begins to explain how to solve your problems, you notice his orange t-shirt, accentuating the perfectly placed blush on his cheeks, faint but definitely pink. The way he spoke to dumb it down for you a bit but to not infantilize you made you smile a bit, seeing as he cared about your feelings. You notice him rub the nape of his neck, seemingly anxious or nervous around you, or maybe uncomfortable because he didn't know how to teach, like how Mr. D should be teaching you this and not poor Ethan, wasting his study hall for you.
You were already very, very aware of your crush on Ethan Morgan. He was your every thought, he was in your blood, in your ears, in your eyes, and in your tears. (weezer reference)
But, now was not the time to dilly dally about with high school crushes, these next 35 minutes could potentially determine your entire future. You needed this free ride to college, otherwise you'd turn into another old person working a job that pays minimum wage for maximum effort.
As time lugged on, you couldn't help but not focus on your homework and instead focus on Ethan and his gorgeous face. He looks back up at you after asking a question, seeing you were totally zoned out staring at him.
"Y/n?" He waves a hand in front of your eyes, trying to snap you back to reality. (eminem reference, wow I'm on a roll today)
You blink, "Oh, shit, sorry, uh, what'd you say, pretty boy?"
You couldn't even think about the words spilling out of your mouth until after they already fell. Those words hit Ethan like a falling anvil, his face turning bright red as he tries to shrug it off as you were just surprised and trying to be nice to him.
"Uh, this is the equation, uhm, try solving it"
You awkwardly nod, writing down the equation and putting in the numbers with the respective variables. You solve the equation, ending up with 24 for the height. He looks confused, having got a different answer. He scooches over to you, trying to figure out where you went wrong.
"Y'know, you're like a walking calculator. A cute one though" You shrug, he looks at you with a slightly confused and amused face, "I dunno what that even means, sorry"
He nods, "Oh, okay, you I think multiplied by two instead of dividing"
"Oh, whoops" You pick your pencil back up, fixing your mistake.
"There you go!" Ethan smiles, "It's just little mistakes, you'll build on it" He lightly pats your shoulder.
"Did you know Ancient Romans used to brush their teeth with their urine? And it actually worked?" You randomly ask him, fidgeting with your pencil.
Ethan blinks, slightly confused before he lightly laughs. "I hate you, focus on the Geometry, no stalling"
"Do you hate me or are we about to kiss right now?"
"Dude. Did you get that off Pinterest or something?"
"...Yeah"
He hides a laugh and bites his lip, "Okay so you-"
"Damn, are you Terms and Conditions? Cause I'd love to blindly agree to whatever you say"
Ethan quickly covers his mouth, "Shut up!"
You laugh a bit, "Sorry, sorry. I didn't sleep for shit last night and I'm getting frustrated cause I don't understand this"
"You'll learn!" Ethan smiles, shaking you lightly by the shoulders.
Some time later, the bell is about to ring, dismissing you to lunch.
"Thanks Eth" You lightly smile, "Oh, uh-" You reach into your backpack, pulling out some homemade cookies in a plastic Tupperware, handing them to him. "These are for you. I have to go to lunch in a second" You say, pulling your backpack over your shoulders, carrying your binder and pencil in hand.
"Oh- thank you!" He smiles, watching you stand up. The smile falters a bit due to awkwardness, "Uh- I have lunch next period too-"
"Bye Ethan, see you later! Love you, dude!"
Ethan is left confused and slightly shocked, cheeks a little red.
He knew you had a crush on him, he felt the same way, but he loved seeing you miserably fail to flirt with him. You were no romantic, if anything, a hopeless romantic in your thoughts.
He smiles, looking down at the red-lid Tupperware, seeing soft, chocolate chip cookies inside, his favorite.
"Thanks, Y/n," He whispers with a little smile, then gathers up his binder and books, shoving them in his backpack.
He notices a tingling feeling in his face, feeling a familiar warmth on his face as he thought about the nicknames and dumb pickup lines you'd spilled out of your lips that past half hour. God, would he love to kiss those lips of yours. He sighs, realizing he should definitely let you do that some more before he asks about it at all.
Thankfully, he'd been able to have slipped a note into your binder before you left.
"Hey Y/n! If you need any help tomorrow I'll be in the library. Bring your pickup lines with you, and I might help you not get kicked off the team. -Ethan"
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