#except not really but that’s the best tag I’ve got

[the-three-whumpeteers]

The whumpee was only ever known as the villain’s child, someone who could cause as much as destruction as their parent- but the whumpee wouldn’t ever do that. The heroes don’t believe the whumpee will be different, specially not the whumper, who decides to take the whumpee out of the equation before they can cause any trouble, and since nobody particularly liked the whumpee, they turn a blind eye at the torture the whumpee is forced to endure.

[lnlightning81]

Whippet [MV1/MV33]

Summary: Max surprises you with a Whippet puppy. Your puppy's paddock debut and a cute moment

Pairing/s: Max Verstappen x reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Masterlist Dogs Masterlist Max Verstappen Masterlist Tag List

Getting a dog wasn’t something you expected to happen. Although you had always been a dog person when you got with Max you knew that for a long while there wouldn’t be a chance of getting a dog anytime soon but you were okay with that because Jimmy and Sassy were like your little furbabies. 

It was a race weekend where you couldn’t make it due to work but Max understood that you couldn’t always attend and you did whenever you could - which was most of the races- however it still hurt you both that you weren’t going to be there for support. 

It was no surprise that as you were watching it in the office, you saw Max cross the finish line in first place. You cheered, scaring the people in the office next to you, which you did apologise for before you left for the night. 

The week Max had been away was a struggle to say the least, part of you was glad that you at least had Jimmy and Sassy there but they didn’t enjoy human contact for prolonged periods of time which left you feeling alone to say the least. 

They slept on the end of the bed, keeping nothing but your feet warm, but you needed something to keep the rest of you warm. That’s what you kept complaining about every time Max called you. You were really complaining because you missed him holding you as you slept. 

What you didn’t expect was to come home from work the day Max was due back to find a little puppy running about the apartment. 

“Max?” You called out, confused more than anything. Your key worked, so this was obviously the right apartment even though you were questioning that right now. Maybe Lando got a puppy. you thought. 

“Hey schat” Max smiled, walking out of the kitchen like nothing was wrong 

“Why is there a puppy in our apartment? Actually, let me rephrase that. Why is there a whippet puppy in our apartment?” You asked, raising your hand up to stop him from hugging you 

“Oh meet Teddy” Max smiled as you raised your eyebrows. 

“What?” You asked, looking down at the puppy who was wagging his tail at your legs just waiting for attention. 

“He gets on brilliantly with Sassy and Jimmy, so don’t even worry about that. He’s already toilet trained which is super helpful except he currently has no other training but I figured that’s something you’d like to do” You tilted your head a little as you crouched down to clap the little black and white ball of fur 

“I know that when you’re complaining about not having anything to keep you warm you’re wanting me without saying it” He started as you looked up to him. Never realising that he actually caught on to why you complained when you couldn’t join him. 

“And I can’t just come back so I got what they call a “man’s best friend” for you. Or well, in this case “womens best friend” I hope you don’t mind” He trailed off as he finished that last sentence. You stood back up, walking the final steps to close the distance between Max and yourself. 

“Max. Love. I never realised you caught on that I wasn’t actually just cold and that I actually missed you. You’re so sweet. I really don’t deserve you but, I guess I really don’t mind. You know I’ve always wanted a dog” You smiled, standing on your tiptoes to press a kiss to Max’s lips. 

Over the next few months, you started training Teddy. He had made his first appearance on your instagram, followed by Max’s and you were really starting to love the pup even though he chewed everything to begin with. 

You had trained him to play fetch, sit, roll over, wait before eating and now you were training him to lie down on command which seemed to be so much harder than the rest even though the training booklet said it was one of the easiest skills to teach a dog. 

Although, for being a whippet, Teddy was really taking these skills under his wing with whippets are, known for being smart they were also known for being hard to train. 

The Dutch Grand Prix felt like the perfect time for Teddy to make his paddock debut. With Teddy on his rope leash rather than the extendable leash to ensure that he didn’t get too boisterous around fans, drivers, team members, and Leo who, he had gotten to know very well. The size difference didn’t matter between the two of them once they got settled into playing. 

Still being a puppy made it easy for Max to pick Teddy up for easy movement around the paddock so walking through the gates on the Thursday morning Teddy was in Max’s arms not that the little pup was too satisfied with not being able to walk. 

Max soon placed him back down on the ground near a little bit of grass where Teddy decided that it was the perfect place to have some zoomies which got fans cooing at him as he spun himself in little circles on the leash. 

Max pressed a kiss to your lips as his hand rested on your lower back. You smiled, turning your head to look at him. 

“I’m so glad I went through with that decision that day. You seem even happier to be here today” You smiled, kissing him again. 

“I need to go do some media. I’ll see you in my drivers room?” He asked, and you nodded 

“You know you will. Love you” You smiled 

“Love you too. There’s a little hidden treat in there for Teddy to find” He smiled walking away. You soon walked towards Max’s drivers room as Teddy got bored of his zoomies and wanted to lie somewhere more comfortable than the grass. 

He was spoiled. You wouldn’t lie about that, but that was also part of being a sighthound. With sighthounds finding it uncomfortable to lie on the ground due to the way they lie from years of catching prey. 

Teddy instantly started sniffing his way around Max’s driver room, with it being a new place for him he wanted to discover every place he could. His little tail wagged faster than the speed of light when he found a little stuffed bone hidden under some pillows. You couldn’t help but take a picture as you noticed the writing on the bone. “Teddy’s Bone” 

A couple of months after his paddock debut was the winter break and you were now fully comfortable leaving Teddy at home out of his crate because although you agreed with crate training you hated having to leave him in there even though that crate alone was better than Max’s whole apartment at this point. All of them put together. 

Max had told you that he was planning a date night, so now you were at some fancy restaurant in Monaco enjoying each other's company as you both yapped about random things. 

The drive home was nice, the music softly playing in the background as you held the bouquet of flowers that Max had stopped off to get because “You can’t have a date night without flowers” as he had previously said to you. However, these weren’t your normal bouquet of fresh flowers. They weren’t even fresh because Max remembered that your hayfever didn’t like fresh flowers and you’d be feeling ill until they unfortunately died, so he got you some faux ones that could last forever. 

Max draped his suit jacket over your shoulders during the walk-up to the apartment as he held your hand. Opening the door, you were expecting to be tackled to the floor by an over excited whippet, but that didn’t happen. Looking at Max confused, he shrugged a little 

“Are we in the right apartment?” You whispered, following him through the house with a frown. Walking into your bedroom as the last place to attempt to find Teddy, Sassy, and Jimmy, who were all hidden.

You almost melted at the sight in front of you. Teddy lying asleep over your side of the bed with Jimmy in between his legs and Sassy next to him lazily licking Teddy’s fur. Taking a picture just as Max turned around to look at you 

“Schat what’s wrong?” Max asked frowning as you wiped the tears away that had welled up in your eyes 

“They’re just so cute” You pouted, and Max couldn’t help but laugh at the fact you were crying over a cute puppy and some cats. 

Coming Soon

Tag List

Dogs @GlitzyDitsy

Max Verstappen @thewannabewriter @lozzamez3 @barcelonaloverf1life @hiireadstuff @mxdi0 @f1kenzzz @evie-119 @ahgase99 @velocesainz @kat-s2 @scarletwidow3000 @thegrapejuiceblues1982 @tellybearryyy @zabwlky1999 @xxx-betty @callsignwidow @chocolatepoetryfun @lwstuff @destinyg237

[rumplereids]

hii!! i’ve read some of your docs and they are just awesome !!

i wanted to ask you if you could write a fic (paring Spencer x fem!Reader) about the BAU chasing the unsub and they manage to catch him, tough he did fire some shots that didn’t hurt anyone except reader but reader doesn’t realise it until she starts to feel dizzy and feels her shirt wet only to find a gun wound on her side, spencer is really worried etc etc.. you know an hurt/comfort !! :3

sorry for my bad english 😞😞

take your time !! :33

tags: spencer reid x fem!reader. hurt/comfort. reader gets shot. blood. reader using sexual jokes as a coping mechanism. a/n: unedited! set around season 12, bcos i just rewatched the s11 finale lol. i also took some creative liberties but i hope u still like this :) masterlist. requests are open !

There’s something Spencer always did before the team goes out to take down an unsub.

First, in the car, in the calm before a probable storm, he would take two fingers into the collar of your bulletproof vest. He’d tug on the back, checking the tightness of the straps while confined in the SUV’s backseat. And then, the same hand would run down your back. A comforting gesture that grounds him more than he’d admit. And lastly, he’d take your hand in his. Squeeze it three times in a silent ‘I love you’. He’ll wait for you to squeeze back, and your eyes would meet for a second, words unneeded as your gaze tells each other to take care.

It’s a routine done even before you officially got together. Tonight was different.

You were on the way back to the station after re-interviewing a witness with Rossi. You’re sat on the passenger seat, notepad in hand, attempting to arrange your thoughts on the case. A ringtone coming from the car speaker distracts you from your musings. Rossi reaches over to accept the call.

“Yeah, Hotch?”

“We found him. Garcia sent the location to your cells. You’re 20 minutes away from the address, but do not engage. Keep your distance and wait for the rest of us.” Hotch drops the call after you reply with an “On it, boss.” You flip a switch on the console, turning on the sirens.

“I still hate how loud these things are,” you make a passing comment.

Rossi spares you a glance, a bemused look in his eyes, “I haven’t gotten used to it either.”

You turn to reach for your vest behind the passenger seat. After putting it on, you triple check the straps. And then, you unholster your standard issue pistol, thumb on the catch, before you check your mag.

Rossi’s turning the corner while you holster your gun, reaching over, you turn off the siren. Based on the profile, this unsub will not hesitate to draw guns if met with law enforcement. Best not give him a heads up. A few blocks ahead, you see the bright neon sign of the motel the unsub is hiding in. Rossi shifts the SUV into a slow crawl. He stops a block away, a safe distance that still gave you a good vantage point of the motel. You keep a lookout, Rossi putting on his vest while your eyes pass over each entrance, exit, and window on the two-storey building. You notice movement on the first floor. A shadow behind a curtain on the second floor.

You’re starting to get antsy when the rest of the team, and the local cops arrive. You quickly open your door, walking toward where Hotch, Tara, and Spencer were huddled by the trunk of a precinct car.

“Are you attempting to negotiate?” Rossi asks from your side. Spencer’s eyes meet yours from where he’s hunched over a map. Embedding the floorplan into his mind. You watch his eyes rake over your body twice. Eyes running to each strap on your vest. Your heart warms at the gesture.

“He has hostages,” Hotch’s voice breaks your eye contact with Spencer. The sheriff walks toward your team, a megaphone in hand. Hotch thanks the sheriff, turns on the speaker, and begins to call out for the unsub.

“Bryan Masen! FBI! Come out with your hands above your head!”

You see the shadow shift on the second floor. And then, a loud bang. Bryan Masen has an assault rifle, shooting out of the windows of the motel lobby, while a second unsub shoots their own rifle from the second floor. In all the chaos of gunshots and screams, your mind rotates through three things; Is Spencer okay? A partner wasn’t in the profile. My ribs hurt. Is Spencer okay? A partner wasn’t in the profile. My ribs hurt. Where’s Spenc—

The following silence was deafening.

And then, a group of uniforms led by Hotch and JJ move in on the motel. You begin to stand, intending to join the second group of uniforms with Luke and Rossi. Subconsciously, your hand presses against your side. It’s warm. And wet. You take one step forward. Hear Spencer call out your name. And then, it all turns black.

Spencer’s hands won’t stop shaking. He stares at it. The red on his palms. It’s drying, and all he can do is stare blankly at it. His knee jerks. It won’t stop. He feels a hand on his shoulder. Heavy. Comforting. Unwanted. He hears Luke ask him if he needed anything. He can’t hear his own reply. Hunched over his bloodied hands, he sees the boots peeking between his fingers. Black. Leather. Heeled. JJ tries to get him to wash his hands. He feels hands guide him to a sink. That same hand on his shoulder leaving when smaller hands take his in their own. The water is cold between his fingers. The hand scrubbing his knuckles is warm. He can’t afford to look away. Can’t risk his eyes closing for more than a blink. He needed to be distracted by something. Knowing that if mind was preoccupied by any other menial thing, he won’t be forced to see your body falling onto the sandy ground. Over and over. The scream in his throat. The thud. The frantic hands. Red, red, red. Pale lips and eyes closed. Over and over.

He has half a mind to stop JJ from cleaning his hands. But then, the faucet turns off. Paper towels are pressed into his hands, and JJ guides him back to where the rest of the team are waiting. Their silence tells him that there hasn’t been anything new. He falls into a chair. Numbers. Statistics. That can help him focus on something else.

The number of GSWs treated per biennium increased from 1,349 in 1996-1997 to 1,484 in 2014-2015, with a 59% increase occurring from 2010-2011 to 2014-2015. Overall mortality was 14.6%—

An unfamiliar name calls out your name.

He stands before anyone else can react. Like a wolf descending on a prey, he begins a barrage of questions; “Where is she? Is she okay? Is she ali—”

“She alive and well. The shrapnel missed any major arteries, and we were able to take every fragment out. Major bruising around her ribs. She’s currently sedated, but you can come and see her.”

Spencer bites back an attempt to snap, wanting to raise his voice and demand that they bring him to her already. But he doubts you’d let him get away with such a behavior. And so he silently follows after the doctor, fists pressed against his sides, thumb popping a knuckle.

When he enters your room, it’s dimly lit. But he can see your face, and the bruise on your cheek from when you fell unconscious. His eyes take you in, every inch of you. The hair pulled behind your ears. The medical gown covering pallor skin. The tube connected to the crook of your elbow. He reaches a hand out, smoothing your hair, before taking a deep breath in. He remembers your comment about the smell of hospitals.

“I’ll stay with her,” he mumbles. Two fingers pushing down the collar of your hospital gown. You don’t like it when your clothes bunch up around your neck. His fingers subconsciously move to trace the side of your throat. Moving to feel the beat of your pulse beneath his fingertips.

“I’ll bring your bags back in an hour,” he nods once to acknowledge JJ’s words.

“Thank you,” he coughs away the lump in his throat. You’re alive. You’ll be awake in a few hours. You can go home by the end of the week. He forces himself to feel optimistic.

“Get some rest if you can, Reid,” Hotch speaks from where he’s standing nearest to the door.

He nods, opting not to say anything. Unable to make promises.

Your eyes are heavy when you come to. You can feel the crust on your lids. The cool of the AC against your cheek. Slowly, you open your eyes. There’s a painting of a grassy field on the wall in front of you. You turn your head. Spencer has his socked feet up on the armchair. Curling into himself to fit better. He has his focus on your copy of Pride and Prejudice. You can tell it’s yours by the sticky tabs peeking between the pages.

“Spence?” your voice is throaty and hoarse. Struggling to crawl out. He still hears it, anyway.

“Oh, baby,” he drops your book on the chair, moving to sit by your side. His forehead presses against yours, his hands cup your jaw. Spencer presses a kiss on the apple of your cheek.

“You scared me,” he confesses with a whisper.

“I’m okay now,” you bring a hand into his hair. He moves his kisses down to your jaw.

“I was so afraid of losing you.”

You take his kisses as he freely gives them. He hides his face into your neck, kissing where it meets your shoulder. You move your hand down to scratch where his hair ends before his nape. “You could never get rid of me,” you say with a small smile. He presses a kiss where your neck meets your ear.

Right hand on your cheek, left hand going down to grip the flesh below your scapula. Slender thumb and finger pinching the softness behind your armpit. He breathes in the scent of you. Your hand starts to massage the muscle where his neck and shoulder meet. You know that he feels heavy there whenever he gets stressed out. You want to crack a joke at how tense he is, but keep it in and choose to give him comfort instead.

“I love you,” his lips whisper against your skin.

You sigh, the sound making him look up to meet your eyes.

“I was so scared too,” it was your turn to confess.

“You’re okay. We’re both okay,” he moves his hands to take yours into his. You squeeze his hands thrice.

“I asked Hotch to give me time off while you’re on medical leave.”

“You did?”

He squeezes your hand back. Three times like you both always have, and always will.

“I also had to call your family,”

He watches you grimace, “How did they take it?” He gives you a slight wince of a smile.

You let out a sigh, “I’ll call them in a bit.”

“Your mom is taking a flight to Washington,” he informs you.

“That sucks. We won’t have the house to ourselves for at least a month.”

He raises a brow at you, “Why would it matter? You’re not allowed any strenuous activity for three.”

You give Spencer a little pout, chastised that he easily called you out, “That’s just mean.”

He gives you a withering look, “Behave.” He gives you one more kiss on the cheek, moving to stand from your bed. He has to tell the team you’re awake. Taking your phone from the end table, he begins to draft a text.

“I still have my hands, you know.”

He turns to you, caught off guard. Disbelief painting his features.

“You did not just say that,” he says.

You stick a tongue out.

“Stop it. You’re injured,” he says with a slight reprimand.

“So? That didn’t stop us when your knee got shot.”

His mouth falls open, “I can’t believe you.”

“Three months is just a recommendation. You would know.”

You grin at the blush that takes over his face.

taglist: @i-live-in-spite @khxna please feel free to send an ask to be added to my general taglist!

[ataliagold]

you told me once that i'm selfish (and i kissed you hard, in the dark)

For @astrangersummer week 4 prompt 'outside'. Title from Letter to an Old Poet by boygenius.

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Rating: General

W/C: 1430

Tags: Established Steddie, minor angst, fluff, hand-holding, Steve just wants to go hiking but Eddie's not keen on the idea, until he is, despite a minor argument these boys are so soft for each other, slightly selfish Eddie but he apologizes, Eddie gets a cool stick

Summary: Steve is used to spending time doing what Eddie wants to do. On a hot summer afternoon, the tables are turned when Steve asks Eddie to go hiking with him and Eddie is...not so thrilled about it.

___

“A hike?”

“Yup.”

“You want to go…hiking?”

“Uh huh.”

“You want me to go hiking with you?”

“Yes, Eddie.”

“…I’m not sure that’s the best idea.”

“Why not?”

“Well, we could do…something else. Go to the arcade! Catch a movie, get drunk by your pool…I can come up with many alternatives to hiking, big boy.”

“I want to go, it’s one I used to do often years ago. It’ll be fun, just try it. It’s summer, we should get outdoors, enjoy the sun.”

“I’m not really an outdoors kinda guy, Steve. I thought you knew that by now.”

Steve’s shoulders had slumped a little at that. He’d watched as Eddie screwed up his nose at Steve’s suggestion, as he shook his head vehemently, as he rolled his eyes a little at Steve’s insistence that it would be a nice way to spend their Sunday.

Eddie didn’t want to go. That was ok; Steve wouldn’t make him. It had been stupid to even ask him in the first place, he supposed – Eddie was right, it really wasn’t his sort of thing.

Except…Steve had spent long evenings watching Eddie and the kids playing their campaigns, had listened as best he could as Eddie rattled off ideas and suggestions to him for the next D&D session, had sat through the frankly terrible horror movies that Eddie was rapt with, always let him play his music in the car, shrugged it off good-naturedly when Eddie complained about his taste in music…

Steve been hoping maybe Eddie would try something that he enjoyed, just for a day.

He knew Eddie hated sport and practically any form of intentional exercise; hell, his boyfriend reminded him of that frequently, grumbling when Steve and Wayne were glued to a game on TV or when Steve was busy shooting hoops with Lucas. Usually, Steve didn’t care – he knew they had different interests, loved Eddie enough that it didn’t matter.

But sometimes, Eddie’s jibes about him being a jock or a philistine or uncultured just…stung a little, especially considering Steve never bit back with his own insults, had left those days long behind him.

“Yeah, ok,” Steve mumbled eventually. “I’ll just…I’ll ask Lucas or something.”

Eddie shook his head. “He’s at Mike’s this weekend.”

“Oh. Well…never mind, then.”

Eddie sat up, grabbing for Steve’s hand. Steve let him take it, but with little enthusiasm.

“We can do something else, though,” Eddie said brightly. “Wanna rent a couple of movies, get high? I’ve still got some of Argyle’s stuff left, we could…Steve?”

Steve’s hand had gone weak in Eddie’s, his gaze drifting downwards. “Hmm?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

Eddie shuffled closer, tilted his head to try and catch Steve’s eye. “Steeeeevie,” he hummed.

“What?” Steve said, snapping a little.

Eddie recoiled slightly. “What’s got your panties in a twist?”

Steve snatched his hand back, pushing off Eddie’s couch to stand up. “Nothing, it’s fine. I’m gonna go for this hike, I’ll see you later.”

Eddie frowned, hopping up to block Steve’s path. “On your own?” he questioned.

“Well, you clearly don’t want to go, so…”

Eddie’s face softened. “Steve -”

“No, it’s fine. You hate the outdoors, you hate exercise, you hate…” Steve trailed off.

Eddie reached out, traced a hand across Steve’s cheek. “What, sweetheart?”

Steve sucked in a breath. “You hate everything I like,” he mumbled, not meeting Eddie’s eye.

Eddie’s eyes widened, realization crossing his face. “Stevie…I…I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you wanted to go so badly. Let me just…I’ll get changed, and we’ll go, ok?”

“No, you don’t want to.”

“I do.”

Steve scoffed. “You don’t.”

Eddie nodded slightly, chewed his bottom lip for a moment. “I didn’t want to,” he admitted eventually. “But…you do things you don’t want to do for me all the time, and I know I’m not…as good at doing that as you are. So, the afternoon is yours. You want to hike? We’ll hike. I can’t promise I won’t pass out halfway, but I’ll be there.”

Steve gave him a long look. “You’re sure? And you won’t complain?”

“Well…maybe a little.”

Steve rolled his eyes, waving a hand in frustration.

“Ok!” Eddie back-peddled. “Ok, I won’t. Just…I have one request.”

“What?”

“I want to carry a cool stick.”

*****

Eddie got his stick.

Steve led them on the wooded path that branched off from Lover’s Lake, that looped its way slowly up a hill to a lookout spot over the forest. Eddie traipsed along behind him, swatting at invisible orcs with his stick, occasionally skipping off to one side to pick up and present Steve with various stones and small rocks he found along the way, the ones he deemed pretty enough to gift to him.

Halfway up, despite sweating and breathing a little harder than he should be, (smoker’s lungs, he’d given Steve as an excuse) Eddie seemed to putting in a lot of effort for Steve.

“This is…kinda cool,” he admitted.

“Really?” Steve raised an eyebrow at his boyfriend.

Eddie nodded, whacked at a bush with his stick and grinned. “Yeah. At least it’s shady here too, it’s not so fucking hot.”

Steve smiled. “Told ya. Wait till we get to the top, too. I think you’ll like the view.”

“About that…how much steeper does it get?”

A short time later, and only one little moan from Eddie about the hill, and they broke through the trees and onto a rocky outcrop with a little bench seat. The trees sprawled out below them, shades of brown and burnt orange, Hawkins nestled off to one side.

“Wow,” Eddie breathed, bent over next to Steve with his hands on his knees as he got his breath back.

Steve, not puffed in the least, nodded in agreement. “It’s nice, huh?”

“It’s like…Lothlorien.”

“…sure,” Steve offered, having no idea what his boyfriend was talking about.

Eddie slumped down on the bench seat, fingers tracing over the initials carved everywhere into the old wood.

“You on here, Stevie?” he asked.

Steve nodded, dropping to his knees and searching the edge of the seat for a moment. There, etched permanently into the wood, were the weathered initials S.H.

“Here,” he said.

Eddie smiled, touched his fingers to the marks. Quietly, he scratched his own into the wood with a sharp stick, right next to Steve’s initials.

“Looks good,” Steve observed.

Eddie looked up at him, took his hand. “Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For…not taking enough interest in the things you like.”

Steve sighed, sat down beside him. “You don’t have to, Eds. I know you don’t like a lot of the things I do, it’s -”

“Don’t say it’s ok,” Eddie interrupted, holding his hand tighter. “I mean, maybe I don’t like sport and stuff. But you don’t like D&D, and I know you hate horror movies, but you don’t complain about it, and you always come along even if you don’t enjoy something.”

“I…I like spending time with you,” Steve said quietly.

“I know, and I love you for it.” Eddie’s free hand gripped the edge of the seat. “And…and I like spending time with you too, and I want to be able to do some things that you enjoy too, it’s only fair.”

“Well…did you enjoy this?” Steve asked, almost shyly.

Eddie nodded. “Yeah, actually. Nearly had a heart attack near the top there, but aside from that…” he grinned as he pulled a small laugh from Steve. “I’d like to go again. Wherever you want to go, I’ll be there.”

“I’d like that, Eds.”

“Good.” Eddie dug around in his pocket for a moment, producing a smooth black stone and plopping it into Steve’s hand. “For you,” he said, smiling when Steve turned it over in his fingers.

“It’s cool, Eds. Thanks.”

Eddie’s smile was wider than the sun.

He leant in, kissed Steve long and slow under the fading July sun.

By the time they reached the car again, Steve’s pockets were laden with little stones that had caught Eddie’s eye along the path. Despite them weighing down his shorts, he couldn’t bear to toss any of them away – he’d find somewhere to put them in their room.

As Steve started the beamer, he was surprised to see Eddie eject the Metallica tape in the player and replace it with Steve’s well-loved Tears for Fears one.

He threw a surprised look at Eddie, who shrugged in return.

“It’s well overdue for your turn, sweetheart,” he murmured softly.

As the familiar notes of Head Over Heels spilled over them, Steve reached for Eddie’s hand.

He didn’t let go the whole way home.

___

[cupcakeslushie]

For your brainwash au, do we get so see exactly how Donnie got captured by Kendra? And would this au be a full comic or just bits and pieces here and there? (Not pressuring just curious) Love the au and I hope you’re having a good day! :)

Don’t know why, but I felt like writing this part out instead of drawing it! (Sorry for bad grammar. I wrote this lying in bed, sleep deprived and did no editing)

——

The sad, pained look on his little brother’s face is enough to set off that dark protective fire in Donatello’s belly. And Michael has been a tiny storm of negative emotions since Leo slapped the small cast on his ankle. Donnie may not be able to pick apart and decipher all of the subtitles his brother is feeling right now, but he knows he’s in pain, and that’s enough.

“How many strips of bacon do you think we can get from Meat Sweat’s corpse?” Donnie ponders as he wraps an arm around his little brother’s shoulders, and carefully pulls him closer. Mikey lets out a quiet huff, but the joke doesn’t land the way Donnie had been hoping.

“Michael?”

“I’m okay,” Mikey assures. Then a hesitant second later adds, “it’s stupid.”

“Oh well if it’s stupid, allow me to grab ‘Nardo. He might be able to help you better.”

That gets the laugh he was looking for.

“I’m not in pain or anything. It’s just, tonight was the midnight signing of Joshua Bear’s new cook book. He’s a YouTuber chef that I’ve been following for years, and I went to his first release…I really wanted the second for my collection.”

Donatello does vaguely remember Angelo telling Raph something about this event last night, during dinner. He’d been so excited, and now he looks crushed at the idea of missing it.

“What if I went?” At the suggestion, Mikey’s face becomes brighter than a super nova, almost too bright for Donnie to stare at directly. It takes a moment for Michael to really calm down enough to speak.

“You’d really go wait in line for three hours? Just to get a book?” Donatello laughs at the question. Any opportunity in which his brothers were interested in the world of literature, no matter the subject (except maybe geology) was a time to be supportive.

Mikey pulls him in for a tight hug, and holds up his phone to snap a picture of them. Donnie snorts and slides out of his little brother’s hammock, careful not to disturb it too much. Mikey is already bouncing enough that he’s in danger of falling out.

“Yes, yes. Sing my praises on all your media socials. Let the world know how I’m your favorite older sibling!” Mikey drops the phone to his chest and holds his arms up, practically vibrating for one more hug. Donnie complies. He’s long given up maintaining his bad boy image when it’s just the two of them.

“You’re the best, Donnie! Really!” The words do a hell of a job replacing that previous fury he’d been harboring, the smile and warmth coming from Mikey, now fully restored. The proper order of the universe righted with a simple solution. This was what he loved most about being a brother. Fixing his siblings problems, in any way he could. And if healing the broken bone outright was (for now) out of his control—at least he could do this.

Donnie glances at his watch and notes he should get going if the turn out is going to be as big as Angelo predicts. He sneaks past the living room where he can hear his other two brethren yelling over a game of Mario Kart. He has zero interest in either of his brothers tagging along. He loves them, but neither are suited to standing in a long line for hours. For the last Jupiter Jim reboot, Donatello was seconds away from a double fratricide before they were even allowed into the theater.

Besides. He’s practically 18 (in four weeks). He can run up to the surface for a few hours, without having to call upon the archaic buddy system.

———

He’s in line for about an hour, when he sees suspicious movement out the corner of his eye. A young woman, parting the line a little ways ahead from where he stands, walks quickly into the closest alley. That alone might be no cause for alarm—maybe it’s a short cut. But the tall, hooded creep trailing after her, has his metaphorical hackles rising. It’s a clear case of sinister intentions. He quickly glances around to see if anyone else has witnessed this, but he’s the only one who seems to be showing any type of concern. Typical New York.

“What a town” Donnie sighs. He doesn’t bother asking the old man behind him to save his spot, seeing as he’s practically at the end of the line, and quickly races to the alley to play hero.

It’s a deep one, the lights of the street not quite hitting all the eerie nooks and crannies. Plenty of blind spots.

“Hello there? Stalker and or damsel in distress? Is anyone in need of assistance? Anyone hopefully bear maced and in need of a being escorted to the nearest precinct?”

No answer.

The non-existent hairs on Donnie’s arms stand straight up. Just as he’s reaching for his ninpo to materialize a bo-staff, something thick wraps around his neck from behind. The arm is almost as big as Raphael’s, if lacking in the muscle department.

But before his can break the hold, the solid feeling of a needle slides into the meat of his neck and something rushes into his veins. Within seconds he’s released and stumbling from the lack of support.

Someone is talking to him. It takes a second of his gaze bouncing around to pick them out. Mildly embarrassing, considering they’re standing right in front of him now. Out of all the colors popping in and out of his vision, Donnie only just catches the same turquoise hoodie that seemed to belong to the unassuming young woman.

A honey pot trap, he realizes, stumbling and falling pathetically backwards on his own ass.

He sees pink hair and is almost relieved, if humiliated. With all their enemies, the Purple Dragons are D tier. But the chances he can free himself before his brothers even notice his absence is high. Just the thought of the savage teasing he would be forced to endure if his brothers found out—Donatello is not eager to hear any of it.

As the nauseating colors finally bleed away, and start to leave black growing in their wake, Donatello swears to cause a big explosion on his way out.

[smileysuh]

comfort cuisine - TEASER

🌙 starring. Johnny Suh x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. You’ve never felt a feral need like this before, but it’s not necessarily the primal type of drive. Instead, it’s a feeling of wanting to be close to this man- who you’ve been next to for so many years, but unable to touch. Except, he’s touching you now, and you want more.

tw/cw. unprotected sex, breast worship/massaging, big dick Johnny, fingering, pussy stretching prep, 'it's finger licking good,' praise, dirty talk, masturbation, multiple reader orgasms, cumming together, creampie, soft sex, longing, fluff, etc… I pet names: (hers) honey.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 10.8k

🍭 aus. aged up/widower dad!John, best friends to lovers, Chef!John, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. I'm so happy that people loved Line Chef Mark in my fic Real Talk, I received so many messages about giving Head Chef John his own love story, and this is what I came up with in the past four months :) it's a little different from what I normally do, but I wanted to continue with that 'slice of life' theme and venture into a plot line I've never tried before with widower/single dad John :)

“So two line chefs called in, huh?” you prompt, tucking your legs up and making room for the large man on the sofa.

“I expected it from Haechan, but Mark’s generally pretty reliable. His girlfriend was on shift today, so I know he wasn’t skipping to be with her- I’m guessing they got pretty messed up last night.”

“They’re young,” you point out, accepting a beer from him. “We used to be young.”

“Used to be,” Johnny laughs, taking a swig of his drink. 

Looking at this man- this father, you realize maybe he never really got the chance to be young. At twenty five, he had a six year old, he wasn't running around blacking out and getting hung over, he was working his way up the employment ladder, dreaming about a better future for his daughter.

“You mentioned Mark has a girlfriend, I think I’ve heard about her a few times now, it’s interesting that she was in and he wasn’t.”

“I’m going to be honest, I love Mark, he’s a great kid- but, he can sometimes be peer pressured into things. Haechan has a hold on Mark unlike any I’ve seen, they bring out… interesting sides of each other.”

You laugh at the description, and it’s clear there’s more on Johnny’s mind, so you wait for him to continue. 

“It’s nice that Mark is young and in love, I can understand that- but at the same time, I just hope he doesn’t make the same mistakes I did. Not that Soonbok is a mistake, of course- I just mean that… life is fragile. You think you’re going to be with someone forever, and then you’re reminded of how frail things can be.”

You frown at his words. Even after all of these years, Johnny still holds so much pain about his lost wife. You want to do your best to help Johnny in every aspect of his life, especially emotional, but this is a topic you never know how to approach. He’s right for grieving, his ex was his first love, his true love- how is there anything you could ever say to make him feel better about her passing?

You open your mouth, only to close it, and Johnny watches you intently. Sometimes he looks at you, the way he’s looking at you right now, and you wonder if he feels the same level of connection with you that you feel with him. You wonder if he wants you to kiss him, if a kiss would make him feel better, if it would - if even for a moment - help him forget about the pains he’s faced in his life.

But it’s because of the pains he’s faced that neither of you can close the distance, you’d like to think about it that way at least. Even after all these years, it’s still too early, so you simply reach out and gently squeeze his hand.

Johnny offers you a smile, and you’re glad that in some small way, maybe you’ve helped him.

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[chosopie]

DEALER - RYOMEN SUKUNA

cw: mentions of drugs

“It’s twenty thousand yen now,” you puff a ring of smoke to his scrunched up face.

“What the fuck? It was only ten thousand last time. Are you trying to fuck with me?” Sukuna clicked his tongue and looked away, trying his best to contain his frustration.

“Supply is getting expensive and I’ve got bills to pay,” you sighed.

“I don’t got enough on me right now,” he dug his hands into his pockets. “Can’t you give me a discount, doll? I’m a loyal customer.”

Doll. Did he really think he could sweet-talk his way out of this?

“No.”

“Come on,” Sukuna moved closer, placing his hand on the side of your arm and running them up and down. “Ten thousand and a little something else.”

You laughed. “What could that possibly be?”

Despite your desire for money, there were other things you desperately wanted. You were searching for a different kind of high no other drug could give you.

Sukuna’s face was now buried between your thighs while you were seated on the back seat of his car. His tongue aggressively swiped your folds, licking every droplet of your sweet juice. He was attached to your the same way a bee would be attached to a flower, drinking up the nectar until it was full; except, he was never full. He knew no limits.

If there was one thing Sukuna was known for, it was his appetite. He wasn’t just a foodie, he was also a munch. He ate you out like a starved man. He would nip and suck on your aching clit, leaving you shaking and breathless. Your hands gripped his messy pink hair and tugged on them while his name dripped out of your mouth along with some breathy moans.

You were so overwhelmed with pleasure, you felt your legs grow weak. You tried to close them, but Sukuna would force them open again. Every time you’d move, he’d stop and bite on the plump flesh of your thigh, leaving red teeth marks on them.

“So close to cumming,” you panted, drool running down your lip.

Sukuna smirked and wiped the spit off the corner of your lip. “Guess you didn’t need the other ten thousand after all.”

“Shut up. I’m charging you more next time.”

“Sure you will,” he rolled his eyes and chuckled.

His pace had quickened, and he put more pressure onto your poor clit. He kept licking and sucking, your juice smeared all over the bottom half of his face. His hands were firmly planted on your thighs, gripping them so tight his nails started digging into your skin. Your eyes were shut as you felt your climax coming, a warm and tight feeling swirled around your stomach and you couldn’t stop your legs from shaking. Sukuna groaned against your core, his tongue quickly working its way around your pussy.

“Fuck, ‘Kuna. Can’t hold it anymore.”

“Just cum on my face, pretty girl.”

Sukuna pushed his face deeper, his nose slightly nudging you while he continued to drag his tongue across your pussy. You moaned and squirmed as you reached your high, making a mess on Sukuna’s pretty face, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“I’m looking forward to our next deal,” Sukuna winked at you and slipped another roll of cash into your pocket.

tags: @torureadz

[constantmourning]

Confidence

[Price/Fem!Reader] [Gaz/Fem!Reader] [Soap/Fem!Reader] [Simon/Fem!Reader] [Poly!TF 141/Fem!Reader]

Summary: You haven't been feeling too confident lately. Your friends convince you to dress up to feel good, and you send them a picture of the end result. Except, you sent the pictures to the wrong group chat...

Word count: 6.9k (hehe)

Warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI!! No use of Y/N, Thigh slapping, finger sucking, p in v, lack of protection, creampie (x2), oral (male and female receiving), face sitting, praise, pet names. Let me know if i forgot something please, I'll be happy to tag it if i did!

A/N: Reader is written As PLUS SIZE! There are mentions of fat/stretch marks/self esteem issues and the likes! This got very long I'm sorry but also I hope you enjoy!! Also, half of this is Beta'd, the other half... well, we die like men...

Your confidence had been at an all time low as of late. You weren’t sure what it was, but ever since joining Captain Price and not having your friends there to tell you just how great you looked every day, you really were down in the dumps.

Babes, I’m terribly upset

You text in your group chat with your friends. You waited for their answer. It felt like a century before someone responded.

Dear, what's wrong?

Finally, one of them had answered. You sighed and took a moment to respond.

I’ve been feeling like utter shit lately. Everyone around me is so… not built like me… I think it’s silly, but I don’t always feel beautiful.

You sent in the chat and immediately got a speech bubble.

Babe… I’m gonna tell you what helps me. Dress up all pretty. Do something to make you feel good. I promise it’ll help

You scrunched your face up.

I’ll try it. But if it doesn’t work I’m going to torment you forever

No response. You groaned and sat up. You decided it’d be best to try that. You looked through your things and found a cute underwear set and walked to your bathroom. Momentarily battling about putting on makeup, you decided to try it.

You sat in your bathroom for a good twenty minutes just doing your makeup. You then took another twenty minutes doing your hair. Everything was going to be undone, but if it was going to help you feel better, why not try it? You slipped into the cute underwear, black and lacy. You examined yourself in the mirror and smiled.

Remember, briefing tomorrow morning

-Captain Price

You remembered, and made a mental note to respond to his text a little later. You, instead of responding, began to take pictures of yourself in different positions. Once you were satisfied with some of them. You decided to throw a few into your group chat with your friends.

Validate me babes <3

You set your phone after you sent the pictures and just looked at yourself. You inhaled and placed a hand on your stomach. You pinched the fat there and sighed. Your phone went off, and then went off again. And again.

HUH?

-Gaz

oh fuck

-Soap

Wrong number?

-Ghost

You felt your heart stop. You wanted to vomit and run away and never be seen again by your teammates. Truly thinking about not responding and running away into the night, you scraped your nails through your hair. You grabbed your robe from the door and screamed into it. As loudly as possible without alerting anyone.

You grabbed your phone up and thought about being a grownup. Briefly.

WRONG GROUP CHAT

You then sent a barrage of different sad emojis and hoped the pictures would leave their minds.

There were no responses for the rest of the night. You went to bed just as you were; hair, makeup- You did put on comfortable pajamas though. You lied down and knew- just knew you would be getting an earful in the morning.

You grabbed your phone one last time and sent a group message to your girls, checking this time if it was really them.

Goodbye, I just wanted to say that. Since I will be simply passing away right now.

Immediate response.

What did you do???

I sent pictures to the wrong group chat. To the work group chat…

Your friends both, at the same time, asked what the pictures were. You sent the pictures and said nothing else. The chat erupted. Your friends were spamming you, different emojis, swears, memes. Anything. If they could send it, it was sent.

You lied on your back, looking up at the ceiling and you sighed. You were going to have to be an adult and face the men you really didn’t want to in the morning. You made that a problem for you in the future, and decided that sleep was the best option. You turned your phone off and slowly fell asleep. A pit in your stomach the whole time you waited for unconsciousness to overtake.

You woke up with the exact same pit in your stomach. You threw on your uniform and walked as fast as you could to the room you were meeting at. You wanted to miss Soap, Ghost, or Gaz. You did not want to run into them.

You opened the door to the room and realized you’d be facing Price alone. That was until you saw everyone was already in the room. You looked at your watch. You were early… If you were early, what time did they get there? You did not want to think about it…

No one would look you in the eyes. Their demeanor had changed completely. But no one mentioned the photos. You stood, uncomfortably, away from everyone. You couldn’t take in any information that Price was giving you. You were hyper aware of everyone around you; their body language…

You watched as Soap balled and unballed his fist a couple times. His knuckles white.

Gaz’s chest was rising and lowering a little quicker than usual. You could tell through the gear. His eyes were trained ahead, looking directly at Captain Price.

Speaking of Price, his eyes would look right over you. You weren’t the best at eye contact anyway, but Price was not bad at it. You knew he was trying to be professional.

Your eyes moved to Ghost and they locked onto his. You, immediately looking away, noticed him shift. His eyes didn’t falter though. He seemed to be the only one looking at you.

You shifted your weight, swallowing hard. Gulping down air like your life depended on it. The tension in the room was too much. You wanted to explode. Instead of exploding, you did (in your mind) the second worst thing. You opened your mouth, and words actually came out.

“I’m sorry!”

Everyone went quiet. Price stopped speaking and all eyes were on you. You gulped again and took a step back, distancing yourself even more. Price was the first to speak up. His brow cocked and you waited for his response. “For what?” He did sound genuinely confused, so you didn’t take it as him pretending to be stupid.

“Uh-” Your eyes scanned the room. You did the thing you were best at, word vomit. “Well, I’m sorry for sending those pictures! It was unprofessional and I didn’t check the group I was in- I was just- I meant to send it to-” You stopped yourself.

“To who?” Ghost asked, deadpan. But, you could almost see the smirk under his mask.

You, not knowing how to stop, kept going. “My friends. I wasn’t feeling good last night- Or the past couple o’ weeks really… My friends said, um, doing what I did would help me feel better! I mean, she did not tell me to send the picture in the work chat!” You put your hands up, no one stopping you from continuing. “I just wanted to feel cute… I guess…”

The room went silent. You made a face and held yourself back from stomping your foot or throwing a tantrum. You decided to be an adult, and wait for a response, one that felt like it was never coming. Price, Gaz, Soap, and Ghost all looked at each other before all staring at you. You pouted.

“What?”

“Do friends normally send pictures like that to each other?” Ghost cocked his head at you.

You wanted to throttle him. “Whatever. If this is done, can I leave?”

Price nodded, he knew you had retained nothing, but he didn’t say anything about it. “Free to go.”

You walked out of the room and began to walk towards your room. You felt tears prick your eyes and tried to hold yourself together, at least until you got to the comfort and loneliness of your room. You were seething. You didn’t know why, but you were mad. Mad at how they had acted, mad at how you had acted, and mad that the pictures were sent to them in the first place. You got to your room, slammed your door, and threw yourself down on your bed.

You curled up and decided it was best to skip lunch that day.

A knock came from the other side of your day and you held back the urge to tell whoever it was to go away. You threw yourself out of bed and walked towards the door. Forgetting that you had puffy eyes from crying, you opened the door. Price stood there.

“Hey, you weren’t in the mess hall-” He stopped when you wiped your eyes. “Are you crying?”

You pouted harder. Price sighed. You groaned and moved to the side, motioning for Price to come in. You did not want everyone to see you looking like a mess. Price walked in and you shut the door. You placed your back against it and looked at him.

“Are you alright?” He gave you a concerned look.

“I’m fine.” You lied. Terribly.

Price’s head dropped slightly. “You had said this morning you weren’t feeling-”

“Captain,” You sighed. “I’ll be fine. Just horribly embarrassed. It’ll go back to normal once no one looks at me differently.”

Price’s brows furrowed. “If they don’t?”

You blinked at him. Why would he say that? You felt tears forming again. “Captain-”

“I know you don’t want to hear it from me-” Price started, “And would obviously prefer it from your friends,” He smiled at you softly, and got closer to you, “but, you are stunning. You should not feel the need to be validated, but you should know you are beautiful.”

Something hit you; whether it was the eye contact, what he said, or how he said it, you weren’t sure, but whatever it was sent you into a frenzy. You, without thinking, grabbed Price’s face and kissed him. Hard. Your lips hit his and you realized what you were doing. The kiss was over as fast as it started. You threw yourself back and began to profusely apologize. 

“Holy shit!” You were stunned at your actions, “That was so inappropriate, I’m so sorry.”

Price was as stunned as you. You watched him with wide eyes and he processed everything that had just happened. Nothing was being said. It was a deafening silence. Price watched you closely, his eyes dropping from your to your lips. His hands cupped your cheeks and he brought you into another kiss.

You eagerly kissed back, pressing against him. He pushed forward, your back pressing against the door. His tongue traced your bottom lip and you slowly opened your mouth for him. Your arms were wrapped around his neck and nothing was stopping either of you.

Until your stomach growled.

Price pulled away and looked down at you. “Look, you need to eat and I’m not sure we should do this-”

“I want this…” Your voice was barely audible, just loud enough for Price to hear.

“How about…” He paused, “you go eat. And think about this-”

“I’m not going to lie now, Captain Price,” You bit the inside of your lip, “I’ve been thinking about you, and the others for a while now.”

“Me and who?” He questioned you, brows knitting together.

“Um, Gaz, Soap, and Ghost… I think about you four all the time. Um, too much actually.” You stop yourself before going further. “Sorry, that's too much truth.”

Price laughs, “Okay… Go eat. Think on this. Text me when you’ve eaten.”

You nodded. “Yes sir,” You did a little salute. Price moved and let you out from your spot. You opened the door and both of you walked out of your room. You, pretending like Price did not just have his tongue in your mouth, walked off for lunch. As you were leaving, Soap walked up. He looked at Price in confusion.

“Why were ya in her room?”

Price smiled at him. “We may be doing a team bonding exercise later.”

“What does that mean?” Soap was quick to ask. Price was quick to ignore. He started to walk off, away from Soap, agitating him. “C’mon! You can’t say that and then not elaborate!”

Your mind was racing the whole time you ate. You could only focus on one damn thing; your earlier actions. And Price's words. Heat prickled across your cheeks as you ate and you made up your mind.

You wanted to do whatever it was Price had been thinking about.

You finished up your food and began to head back to your room. You just had to get a hold of Price, you had to tell him what you had thought about. But not before coming face to face with Soap.

"What happened earlier?" His brows were furrowed and his lips were turned down. "Wait, have you been crying?"

You groaned. "Fuck, it's still noticeable?" You looked back at Soap, "Where's the Captain?"

It was his turn to groan, "I'll take you to him."

You smiled widely and thanked him. He began to lead you to the barracks, the men's barracks. Your stomach flipped and you felt butterflies instantly. You kept your eyes trained ahead, on the back of Soap. Your heart was racing and your cheeks were burning.

"Did Price get to you first?" Soap turned to ask.

You blinked at him, shocked. "Huh?"

He shook his head, mumbling 'nothing' before leading you Price's door. He knocked and there was silence for a minute, before the door opened. Price's eyes fell from Soap and back to you. Price smiled and motioned for you to come in.

Soap began to leave and you grabbed his hand. "Can he come in too?" Your words caught Soap's attention. He froze and looked back at Price.

Price's smile turned into a toothy grin. "Of course."

You pulled Soap in behind you and Price shut the door. You held Soap's hand like a lifeline, a nervousness taking over that only hand holding could help. Soap didn't seem to mind. You looked at Price with a curious expression and finally asked, "What now?"

"Well, we have to lay down some ground rules, and let Soap in on what's going on."

"Please fucking do! What's going on?"

Price looked at you, for you to tell him. Your stomach turned. You swallowed hard and looked at Soap, letting go of his hand. "Um, I talked with Price this afternoon, before I ate. I told him about-" your eyes cut from Soap to Price, who gave you an encouraging nod, "-about liking the four of you. I thought about it, like you asked," you looked to Price again, "and I'm up for-"

"A team bonding exercise?" Soap asked.

You nodded. "If you wanna call it that."

Soap very much so wanted to call it that. He wanted to bond with his men over you. You were unaware- oblivious to the fact that all of them seemed to want that. But, now, the opportunity had presented itself so perfectly. Soap wanted nothing more than to launch himself at you. But he waited.

"Go get Gaz and Ghost." Price looked at Soap before his eyes hit you. Your heart fluttered and you looked at Soap, who was ready to protest.

"Why do I have to go get them? Call them!" Soap's hand snaked around your waist.

"Soap…" Price's eyes narrowed. "I'll take care of her, go get them." Price pulled you from Soap's grasp and Soap groaned. He mumbled a 'whatever' under his breath and left the room.

You watched Soap refrain from slamming the door and moved your gaze to your Captain. You bit the inside of your lip and your arms instinctively wrapped around your waist, hugging yourself.

"C'mere." Price motioned you over. Your feet were heavy and your eyes were wide. You couldn’t move. You inhaled sharply and your hands dropped to your sides. Price watched you like a hawk, “You still up or this? You can back out at any time.” You only nodded. “We’ll set ground rules as soon as Soap gets back with the boys.”

“Until then?” You asked, head cocking to the side.

“We can do whatever you want.”

You nodded again. Anxiety crept in, and even though you knew you could do what you wanted, you needed to ask. “Can I kiss you?” You whispered. Price nodded. You were on him in an instant. Your lips were on his, arms wrapped around his neck. He smiled into the kiss. This time, you traced your tongue over his bottom lip. He eagerly opened his mouth for you, and your tongue slipped in.

Price’s teeth ever so slightly bit down, gently scraping your tongue. You moaned. Price smiled again. His hands rested on your hips and he pulled you closer to him. He began to back up and he soon reached his bed. He sat down on the edge of it and you froze. Suddenly, you were aware, very much so, of him and yourself. You looked at Price, he looked up at you through his lashes.

Without saying a word, he placed his hand on his upper thigh, and patted. Everything in you screamed for you to sit down, but you were stuck standing in front of him. Price’s lips turned downward and his brows furrowed. You shifted your weight and looked at him with an apologetic expression.

“Love,” Price reached his hand out for you, “what’s wrong?”

You grabbed his hand and sighed, “I don’t wanna sit on your lap because, what if-” You stopped yourself. Price’s brows furrowed and he asked for you to continue. You refused.

“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

You threw your head back and whined, “I don’t wanna be too heavy.” You didn’t want to say it too loud. You felt silly enough already. But it was a real fear, being rejected because of your weight.

Price gave you a soft smile, “Don’t even think that way, I promise it’ll be fine.” Price motioned for you, once again, to sit on his lap. So, you did. You didn’t place all of your weight immediately, and he could tell you obviously didn’t want to. So he would coax you. You were sitting on one of his thighs, uncomfortably if you were being honest. Until Price took matters into his own hands.

Price’s heel rose from the floor, catching you off guard. Your back arched and you grabbed his shoulders. “What are you-” His foot dropped, taking all of you with it. All of your weight pressed down on his thigh now, and as soon as his foot hit the floor his hands were on your hips. You instinctively grinded into him and let out an embarrassing whimper.

The door of the room opened and you looked back, unmoving. Soap and Gaz walked into the room, and your heart jumped into your throat when Ghost walked in right behind them. He closed the door and everyone was staring at you. You wanted to hide your face but there was nowhere to hide. Your whole body was hot and you couldn’t focus on anything but the feeling of their eyes on you and how good Price’s thigh felt against you. Price lifted his heel again, and before you could prepare yourself, it hit the ground. You moaned.

“What the fuck?” You grumbled.

“Sorry, love,” Price smiled, “I had to show them your reaction.” Price gripped your hip before releasing it and looking at the guys. “There are some things we need to go over before we get down to business.” Soap, Ghost, and Gaz all nodded, listening closely. “We need a safe word.”

They all looked at you. You were confused momentarily. “Uh, red? Like y’know, green, yellow and red? If I’m good I’ll tell you green, if I’m iffy I’ll tell you yellow, and red is just hard stop.”

They all nodded in agreement with you. Soap was the first to speak up, “What first?” You shrugged, feeling very shy all the sudden. Price gripped your hip before releasing it, and you looked at him for reassurance.

“You decide, darling.” Price looked back at the guys and then at you, “Who first?”

You said the first thing that came to your mind. “Gaz.” You looked back at him and watched him ball his fists, before relaxing. He smirked at you and Price stood you up. “You’re feelings aren’t hurt right?” You looked around the room.

“Bonnie,” Soap smiled at you, “we’ll all get a chance, no hard feelings.”

“You’re just saying that,” Gaz elbowed him, “You wanted to be first.” He then promptly ignored Soap’s angry stare and approached you. Price stood up from his bed and he, Ghost, and Soap watched you closely. Your body was set ablaze and you just focused on Gaz.

“Please, kiss me?” Your voice was soft, your arms behind your back. Eyes cutting through your lashes as you looked at Gaz. You did not have to ask again. He was on you instantly and his hands were cupping your face.

He backed you towards the bed and you fell down. You scooted up the bed and Gaz was on you again. This time, he was kissing your neck. Your mewls filled the room. You had no clue what to do with your hands. You were pulling at the sheets and then started to pull at Gaz’s shirt. He eagerly pulled it off.

“Let’s get you out of these clothes, yeah?” He asked, so politely, how could you deny him?

“I don’t know…” You answered. Suddenly, you couldn’t look him in the eyes. You were staring at the ceiling and playing with the cover beneath you.

“You don’t have to,” Gaz nuzzled your neck, nipping the sensitive skin. “We can work towards that.”

You nodded, “Okay,” a breathy whisper escaped you. Gaz worked wonder with his hands, he grabbed at your hips and his fingers ran up your side, just under your shirt, causing you to gasp. Goosebumps rose on your skin. With eyes shut tight, you spoke up, “You can take my shirt off.”

Gaz smiled into your neck and pushed himself up. You sat up and helped Gaz help you out of your shirt. You sat there in your bra and the cool air made you realize what you had just done. Your hands went to cover your abdomen and Gaz frowned. He placed a hand on yours but did not dare move your hands away from you.

“You’re beautiful… I-” He stopped himself, “We can show you that if we need to.”

You bit the inside of your lip, “I’m gonna be honest. I’ve never felt comfortable in these situations… Well, actually, I’ve never been in this situation, with multiple men… I never even felt comfortable with just one.”

The energy in the room shifted immediately. Before, it was just horny, then it quickly changed to something more serious. Gaz nodded, understanding. “We can stop if you get too uncomfortable. Where are you right now?”

“Green.” You grew more comfortable, even if it was just with him at that moment. You moved your hands from your stomach and placed them, palms down on the cover, beside you. Gaz gave you a soft smile and nodded. “You can continue.” You reassured him. He did just that.

You leaned back on the bed and let Gaz take over again. His hands ran up your sides and towards your bra. You arched your back and let him unclasp it. You shimmied out of it and he threw it to the side. You laid back on the mattress and looked up at Gaz, who was staring at you as if you were a gift from whatever God was listening to him when he prayed.

One of his hands moved for your chest and you gasped. His hands were warm and calloused and something about his touch was so calming. He massaged your breast and lowered himself to your neck again. Your back arched harder and your hips bucked upwards slightly, causing Gaz to groan into your neck.

You had almost forgotten other men were in the room. Almost. "Ugh" Soap groaned, "could you go any slower, Gaz?" You laughed at his remark. Genuine and loud. Gaz grumbled into your neck and pushed himself up.

"I'm going to ignore him now," Gaz looked dead at you, you were the only one in the room according to him. You smiled at him and nodded. Gaz kissed your jawline, down your throat and headed for your chest. He briefly paused at your nipples, a hand playing with one while the other got sucked on. You moaned and whined at him, the sound of the other men shuffling around the room not even detering you.

Gaz's hands moved towards your belt and you tensed. You said nothing though. But Gaz still noticed you tense. He froze and looked up at you, one of his brows cocking. "Green," you whispered, still focusing only on him. He gave a nod and made quick work of your belt. It was pulled off of you in no time. You kicked off your shoes and Gaz began to pull down your pants. You lifted your hips to make it easier, and soon enough you were just laying there in your panties.

You were nearly completely exposed to them. Your thighs, stomach, stretch marks, all of it on display. Part of you didn't care, but part of you was terrified. Gaz's fingers gently traced your stretch marks and you froze up.

"Yellow." You blurted out, without really thinking.

Gaz was off of you in an instant. "You okay, love?" Price and Gaz asked at the same time.

"Uh, sorry," You sat up, resting on your forearms, "not used to this attention. I was a little uncomfortable." They all looked at you, attentively. "We can continue."

"How would you feel…" Gaz trailed off, thinking hard, his fingers tracing patterns on your thighs again. "Sitting on my face?"

Your heart jumped into your throat. How were you going to survive? Your eyes widened and you pulled yourself up, trying to comfort yourself. "What if… what if it's too much?"

"What?" Gaz, seemingly genuinely confused, cocked his head. "What if what's too much?"

You gave him a deadpan expression as if he should know. "I don't wanna crush you with my thighs!"

"What an honorable and lovely way to go, though!" Gaz gave you a goofy grin.

You thought for a moment, "Okay, but can we do it my way?" You played with the sheets beneath you. Gaz hummed, asking what your way was. "Uh, you lay on the floor and I'll sit on your face." Your face was suddenly burning as you said the rest of your thought, "So I can I suck one of their dicks." Your words ran together and you tried to hide your face.

"Hey, no need to be shy now!" Gaz comforted you. "Anyway, I'm sure I know one of them is absolutely dying for you to suck his dick." Gaz whispered to you. You laughed, causing the others to wonder what was being said.

Gaz moved off of you and got on the floor. He laid down and patted his chin, waiting for you to get up and take a seat on his face. The others looked at you with confusion. They couldn't help but wonder what you had planned. You stood up and wondered how to not awkwardly take your panties off. You decided it didn't have to be awkward, you were with four men who were ready to throw themselves at you (well, Ghost hadn't yet…), you didn't need to feel so self conscious.

Yet, there you were, being self conscious. "Do you have to watch me while I take off my panties?"

"Well, what else are we supposed to watch, love?" Ghost adjusted himself, causing a pit to form in your stomach.

You grumbled a 'fine', and slid off your panties. You made your way to Gaz, who was more than ready to devour you. You got on your knees, one on each side of his head and looked at the other guys. Gaz placed his hands on your hips and pulled you closer down to him.

"Don't be afraid to sit all the way down." He smiled against your thigh, causing you to melt.

"Soap," You had said his name with a lust in your voice you weren't sure you were capable of. He perked up. "C'mere." You motioned for him to come over. He was on you as soon as possible.

"May I?" You grabbed up at his belt. Gaz kissed up your thigh, closing in on your pussy. Your thighs clenched around him without you meaning to and you immediately apologized.

"Fuck," Soap groaned, "You're so gorgeous…" That caused you to look back up at him through your lashes. Soap was promptly pulling his belt off for you. He unbuttoned and unzipped them so fast you were unable to process his movements.

Gaz licked a stripe up your pussy and you gasped. “Fuck…” Your voice was soft and weak. You focused back on Soap and looked up at him. Your hands moved to his waistband and you bit your bottom lip. You pulled at his underwear and you were immediately at eye level with his cock. Your hand wrapped around it and you began to softly pump it, the head already dripping precum. You slid his dick into your mouth.

Everything was going on at once. You were trying to focus on Gaz absolutely going to town on you, you were trying to focus on sucking Soap’s soul straight from his body, while also trying to focus on looking okay for Ghost and Price. Which, in all honesty, you didn’t need to try to do that at all. In their minds you were already perfect.

Soap’s cock hit the back of your throat and you gagged. You couldn't help it. Soap's hands tangled in your hair and he held you steady, which you were thankful for. Gaz was putting his mouth to good use and you needed all the help you could get. If you weren't so concerned with Gaz and Soap you would have heard Ghost and Price groaning and grunting on the other side of the room.

You looked up at Soap, tears pricking your eyes, and he pulled your hair, guiding you up and down his cock. "Good girl," he grunted, causing you to have a reaction.

Gaz was going to town under you. His tongue lapping you up as quickly as possible. His hands gripped your hips tight, holding you down while his fingers dug into the skin. You lost it. You settled completely on Gaz's face and moaned onto Soap's cock. Gaz's nose rubbed against your clit and you were sent over the edge immediately. You gripped Soap's outer thigh and tried your best to keep going as your first orgasm hit you. Soap saw you struggling and pulled away, leaving you a mess.

"Kyle!" You moaned out. Gaz did not slow. In fact, you saying his name only caused him to go harder. Your hands hit the floor and your nails dug into the wood. You started to grind onto Gaz's face, a whining and whimpering mess. No words were forming. At least not properly. "Please- Fuck, I-"

Gaz slowed and his grip loosened on you. You pushed yourself up, or tried, Gaz helped you move off his mouth and you were left sitting on your knees, hunched over and reeling.

"Holy shit."

"You still good?" Ghost asked from across the room. You nodded. "Wonderful, because we're just getting started."

You looked up and noticed Ghost was still in uniform. He had obviously been masturbating, but he was fully clothed. Price however, was not. He stood naked, his hand pumping away at his cock. You wanted him. He caught your glance and immediately stopped jacking off. You sat up straight but your eyes cut away from him.

"Mind if I join, dear?" He smirked at you. Words were still not forming. You motioned for him to walk over and made his way towards you. He easily pulled you up and walked you over to the bed. He set you down and you took a moment to catch your breath. You looked up at Price, and sighed.

"I forgot to mention," you finally formed a sentence, "I'm on birth control." Price smiled at this. It was your way of saying 'Please rawdog me right now' and he understood instantly. He lowered himself to your level, lips pressing to your ear.

"Wanna be on top?" Price whispered, chills running up your spine.

"I don't know…"

"Whatever you want to do is fine, love, but I'd love to watch you ride my cock-"

"Okay." You are hooked instantly. His tone, his accent? He did not have to repeat himself. Before you knew it, he was laying on the bed and you were positioned over him. You grabbed his cock and started to gently rub up and down it, before lowering yourself onto him. You whimpered, Price steadying you. He watched you closely. 

“Good girl, that’s it,” He grunted. His hands rested on your thighs. You were still so sensitive. You had a feeling you were going to be sensitive for the rest of the day.

“Captain…” You moaned out, not entirely sure where it came from. But it did something to Price. His hips bucked up immediately. You gasped. You were bouncing up and down, slowly at first. Your hands rested on Price’s chest to steady yourself, your legs still wobbly from the earlier interaction with Gaz.

The sound of skin slapping skin echoed through the room. Your whimpers and all of their groans and grunts filled the barracks, most likely. Your pace picked up and Price slapped his hand against your thigh, the smack ringing in your ears. The sting only turned you on more. “Fuck,” Price’s teeth were gritted, “love, you’re taking me so well.”

Your eyes shut tight and your mouth fell agape. One of your hands grabbed his, the one that rested on your thigh, and you were coming undone again. “John-” You stuttered out his name, “John, I’m gonna-”

Your movements slowed, but Price kept bucking his hips, causing your second orgasm to hit faster than you thought. A string of curses left your lips and your eyes rolled in the back of your head. Your stomach was in knots as you clenched around Price.

“Love, I’m-” He was so close… “Where?”

“Inside.” It was so clear and coherent. Price did not argue.

His hips bucked up a couple more times and suddenly he was cumming as well. You leaned down and your whole body tensed. The feeling of his cum spilling out and rolling down your thighs was all you could think about. Price pushed himself up and kissed you, catching you off guard. You were kissing until one of the guys stopped groaning and spoke up.

“My turn.”

You pulled away from Price and looked over your shoulder. Ghost. You blinked at him a few times and Price moved you off of him. He stood up and let Ghost approach you. Ghost looked at Soap and motioned for him to get behind you on the bed.

“This okay?” Soap asked.

“Yeah-” You started. Ghost clicked his tongue and shook his head. “Oh. Green.”

“Atta girl,” The tone in Ghost’s voice caught you off guard. You looked up at him with wide eyes. “Sorry, love,” He began to pull his pants down, “but I’m not letting you on top. And the mask isn’t coming off.”

You nodded. Soap was behind you holding you. You began to wonder if Soap and Ghost had done something like this before… You, however, did not wonder for long. Ghost was on you quick, his mask pulled up slightly to kiss you. His hand was placed under your chin, keeping you in place. He pulled away from you and looked down at you, his eyes locking with yours.

Ghost’s fingers slipped down to your dripping pussy and he slid two fingers into you. He kept eye contact with you as he fingered you. You shut your eyes as he hit a spot you had never had someone reach with just their fingers and he clicked his tongue again.

“Look at me.” Ghost’s voice was gruff. Your eyes snapped back open and your chest heaved. “Good girl.” You were stuck trying to form a sentence again, and the word Ghost slid from your lips, but nothing else was intelligible. “Simon,” He leaned down to your ear, “You can call me Simon.”

You were sent into a frenzy. Your hips bucked up and as he dragged his fingers out of you, your hips tried to follow. You were putty in his hands. You were a blubbering mess once again. Another orgasm hit and you cried out for Simon. Your eyes screwed shut and you gripped onto Soap, who was still right behind you.

Simon pulled his fingers from you and slid them into your open mouth. “Suck.” He demanded. You looked at him through half shut eyes and shut your mouth, sucking on his fingers. Simon smiled under his mask, you could see him smirking under it as you eagerly sucked his fingers. He removed them from your mouth with a ‘pop’ and you watched him, waiting for his next move. Waiting to see what was next.

Simon grabbed your chin and made sure you stayed looking at him. “I’m going to fuck you, is that alright?” You nodded and he continued, “Soap is going to be here for moral support.” He patted your thigh. Soap’s hands rested on your hips, and as Simon said that, he gripped you tighter and placed a kiss on your shoulder.

‘Fuck,’ You thought, reeling from everything going on, ‘I’m going to need fucking support?’ You prepared yourself for what was to come. Simon told you to position yourself, and Soap, seeming to know the drill, helped you while Simon took his clothes off. Simon was completely naked except for his mask, and you were staring. Staring, and staring. Your head was resting on Soap’s stomach, and Soap was leaning back against the headboard of the bed. Simon crawled onto the bed and leaned over you, angling himself at your entrance. His eyes cut to Soap and moved back to you.

“Green,” You were eager for him to continue. So he did. Simon’s hips thrusted into yours, his pace slow and steady. Your legs were quick to wrap around his waist and Soap rubbed your shoulders. He whispered how good you were, how amazing you had been, and how hot you looked taking Simon’s cock.

Your cries grew louder, and you begged and pleaded for Simon to go faster. Simon grunted as he did so. His pace picked up and you were being plowed into within seconds of asking. Your head rocked back and you looked at Soap.

“Johnny-” You whined, tears pricked your eyes, “Fuck-” You reached up for Soap, who was hard again, you could feel it, and you touched his face. Soap mumbled some swears but was quick to encourage you some more. “I can’t- Uhn-” Your legs tightened around Simon’s waist and you cried for him. His name ripped from your lips and you said it over and over. Moaning for more. Simon did not stop.

“You can-” Your words caught in your throat, “You can cum inside-”

Simon wasn’t far off from you. You were laying there, whining and mewling as he continued to wreck you. His thrusts began to pick up speed once more, until he finally came as well. His hips slowed slightly, and he placed his face in your neck. He moaned out your name and your stomach flipped.

Soap placed and a kiss on your forehead. “We can take a break if you need to?” You couldn’t answer. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Simon pulled out of you and you lied there in Soap’s arms for a moment, staring up at the ceiling. “Come on,” Price walked over to the bed, “Let’s get cleaned up.”

You didn’t move. Your legs felt wobbly and your brain was foggy. Your eyes cut over towards Price and you saw Gaz grow concerned. “You good?” He asked. You finally processed his words and gave a lazy thumbs up. This elicited a laugh from Simon.

After a couple minutes and Soap trying to get up, you stopped him. Your hand grabbed his bicep, “Wait,” Your voice was slightly hoarse from all the noises you had been making, “is this-” You froze momentarily, “Is this a one time thing?”

You could see them all look at each other and then back at you. They all started talking at the same time, “No!” “Of course not!” and “Do you want it to be?”

You sighed in contentment , “I think I could go for the occasional team bonding… If you guys are up for it of course!”

“Absolutely,” Simon leaned over you, “Now we really need to get this mess cleaned up.”

You smiled, agreeing, and let them help you. You had felt more confident than before, and while you knew you didn’t need to rely on others to make you feel that way, you hoped that whatever happened could continue.

[mxtxfanatic]

Just wanna say for those of y’all who came into this fandom late: just a few years ago, speaking on Jiang Cheng with anything less than glowing praise used to bring so much harassment that “angry grape”-related tags had to be created to circumvent jc stans finding and subsequently dogpiling your posts. I’ve since seen this tagging convention appropriated by his stans to be an “affectionate” petname for his character. If you wrote a wangxian fic in which Jiang Cheng did not appear, your fics would get bombarded with stans flooding your comments with their own headcanons on why Jiang Cheng isn’t around but “this is how he’d react if he was” and “everyone loves him, they’re definitely thinking about him, rn” and “when is he supposed to show up, op???” If you read a wangxian fic and Jiang Cheng did appear, there was a 95% chance that you would have to slog through thousands of words of abuse apologia paired with every character (except maybe Lan Wangji, maybe) claiming that Wei Wuxian deserved to be abused and should just learn to handle it better because abuse is really love. It took me a year of reading purely (only, exclusively) wangxian fics to find a single fic that had both 1) canon Jiang Cheng and 2) did not twist the other characters into fanon iterations to justify canon Jiang Cheng’s abusive behavior. When more canon writers started appearing, their fics got flooded with negativity, claims that the fic wasn’t realistic because “jc isn’t like that,” and demands to change things. They started moderating their comment sections. Eventually, jc stan writers even stopped tagging Jiang Cheng in their fics despite writing him as a major character because people began to avoid reading fics if they knew from the tags that his character appeared.

The “canon jc” tag was created on tumblr because jc stans said that if we didn’t like being attacked for canon opinions we should “create our own tag.” It was not a tag that always existed. Nobody used it until my friends created it. And every few months after that, we’d get a new “flood the tag” campaign by jc stans pissed at the name until it died down… until twitter refugees arrived, bringing with them a new faction of jc stans. That jc appreciate week or whatever they call it that starts on Halloween? Created by jc stans in an attempt to flood out Wei Wuxian appreciation posts on his birthday by making sure that new Jiang Cheng content would dominate all the major tags on that day. I watched the creators brag about that.

One BIG fandom upset happened when a jc stan wrote a horribly mistagged rape and murder wangxian fic and had their friends promote it so that wangxian lovers would read the fic and be traumatized. They gloated about having "successfully baited people," then tried to delete their tweets admitting it when they got them in trouble. I was there for that, too, and I only dodged being triggered because I saved the fic to read for later instead of cracking it open immediately.

Some of y’all may see me around now, but I’ve been watching this fandom for much longer than I’ve been making posts, before even the friends and mutuals I know now even knew I existed (yes I was a lurker lol). I’ve seen the development of all this play out across tumblr, ao3, and twitter (despite my best efforts to avoid the twitter side, that’s how ubiquitous it was). That’s how inescapable it was. I saw so much shit go down that I already had a mile-wide blocklist before I made my first post, and even then, I still got hate commentary on some of my posts the moment I dipped my littlest toe into metas. I had anon off for like a year because I didn’t want to deal with any harassment, and the moment I turned it off, I started getting bait anons (though not as bad as the others I’ve seen, holy shit). When I started this blog, all I did was liveblog and reblog other people’s art and metas. I was so stressed entering this fandom because the shit I had seen off rip was absolutely disgusting. That’s why I have very intentional rules of engagement that I try to hold to for myself. I may never be the first to start the fight, but I damn sure will defend myself and my friends. I also will never run away from admitting my mistakes, but I will also never be bullied into treating someone’s personal fantasies as equal to the actual factual text.

This isn’t to say that fanon enjoyers don’t get harassment. Another big fandom scandal was that a popular fanfic writer obsessed with canon had been harassing other writers through a series of bot accounts into leaving the fandom. What a lot of people don’t bring up in their bid to paint canon enjoyers as particularly prone to “fandom bullying,” however, was that the “canon” they were obsessed with was tied almost exclusively to the canon wangxian’s top/bottom sexual dynamic. I’d read that person’s works before—enjoyed them, even, before the scandal happened. They wrote fanon into their fics in other ways. The fanon/canon divide isn’t the problem; entitlement to unanimous fandom praise and recognition is.

There’s nothing wrong with enjoying canon or fanon, nothing right or wrong or morally superior for either camp. But do me a favor: go into the main jiang cheng character tag right now, and count how often you see a post about Jiang Cheng that portrays him in a negative light. Not one that portrays him as an snarky asshole or a teacher’s pet or a helicopter parent or a crybaby who only wants to be loved, but one which shows him in all of his uncensored glory as a piece of shit antagonist. How often do you see fanart of Jiang Cheng that isn’t “best jiujiu” or “sad didi” or “badass sect leader”? How often do you see metas that don’t include some iteration of “everyone is just so mean about poor little jc who just didn’t have a choice in anything he ever did 😢”? Go to the main novel tag and do the same. Hell, go to the wangxian tag and see what you find while you’re at it. How many of those posts are viral compared to “look at jc with his dogs!” or “look, I made lxc and jc kiss!” Then tell me whether or not you believe that jc stans are being specifically targeted for some unique and undeserved persecution by the fandom at large.

[steddieas-shegoes]

love confessions in line

Another stupid little thing because I’m in the car and bored. It’s not edited or really anything much beyond just putting these boys in love in situations.

Rated t | tags: love confessions, established relationship, robin being so fed up with them

————————

“Why do we have to be here so early? My dinner hasn’t even digested properly yet,” Robin complained.

And, okay. It was cold and there were a lot of people standing in line outside of the only Walmart carrying the very specific guitar amp Eddie wanted. He’d called every Walmart in Indiana. Multiple times.

But he had to go all out for Christmas this year. Eddie had already said he’d gotten Steve something he’ll never outdo, never even believe. Obviously, that meant Steve had to do better than the Metallica hoodie that was stashed in his closet for the last four months.

“It’ll be worth it. There’s hardly anyone in line ahead of us and if we go straight to the electronics in the back—“

“You mean where everyone is going?” Robin interrupted, folding her arms across her chest.

Steve sighed.

“Yeah, well. I’ll run. It’ll be fine. I doubt anyone else here is interested in a guitar amp.”

As if the words ‘guitar amp’ were magic, someone who looked a lot like Eddie walked up to one of the security officers standing by the front doors.

Robin noticed at the same time as him.

“Is that…?”

“It can’t be. He said he was going fishing with Wayne in the morning and didn’t wanna end up stuck in crowds shopping,” Steve said.

But then the man turned back to the line.

“Steve?” Eddie yelled, eyes going wide when he realized Steve and Robin were there.

“Uh.”

“Um.”

“I thought you guys were going to Indy for this!” Eddie smiled as he walked up to them. “I don’t think this store will have what you’re lookin’ for.”

Steve panicked. There’s only one thing Eddie could be here for. He could go anywhere else. He could have stayed in Hawkins for that matter.

“Uh. Just wanted a change of scenery.”

Eddie’s brows furrowed as his smile fell slightly.

“O…kay. Well, I’ve got an amp to buy so I guess we’re all in this together now.”

Steve ignored Robin’s snort and mumbling.

Eddie glanced over at her with a questioning face.

“You two are unbelievable. Truly.”

“What? Why?” Eddie asked, genuinely curious.

His finger traced along the back of Steve’s hand subtly, out of sight of the people behind them in line.

“I.” Steve sighed.

Oh well. Maybe he could just try to get concert tickets the next time Ozzy came to Chicago.

“I was gonna get the amp for you for Christmas. I’ve been planning it for weeks,” Steve said, looking down at the ground.

Eddie was surprisingly quiet.

Absolutely no response.

After a full minute, Steve made eye contact with him.

He had tears building in his eyes and Steve felt himself start to tear up, too.

“You were?” Eddie choked out. “But this is-“

“The only place selling it on sale in the state, yeah.”

Robin was grumbling to herself again, but neither of them were paying attention anymore.

“How did you even know?” Eddie asked after a deep, calming breath.

“You mentioned it last month after a gig. Said you needed a new one anyways and this was top of the line or something. That a lot of the bands you like were switching to this kind for studio recording or whatever because of the…crisp? Sound? And then when no one else was selling it at all, I had to call around the Walmarts to see who had it on sale because $300 is a lot of money, Eds, and I wish I could afford that, but I don’t really have that lying around after paying for school and rent so when this place finally said they’d have it for $100, I made Robin promise to come with me since you’d be busy. And I guess you’re not that busy, but. I needed to do my best to get it.”

Eddie’s smile grew the longer Steve rambled. Robin was already walking away, probably back to Steve’s car, halfway through his speech.

“I love you.”

Steve’s jaw dropped in shock.

They’d been saying it in every way except this way for months, nearly a year, really.

It started as Steve taking care of Eddie when everyone else was busy taking care of the Upside Down.

It kept going as Steve was the one listening to Eddie slowly pick the guitar back up, working through the crying about his fingers not working right or his arm getting tired too quickly.

And then five months ago, Steve kissed him.

Took the plunge and kissed him.

They’d done everything together since. They’d become boyfriends. They came out to their group, together, always together.

And now, in a Walmart parking lot during the busiest shopping day of the year, Eddie was telling Steve he loved him.

“Because of the amp?” Steve asked, hesitant.

Eddie knew what he was really asking.

Because I’m buying you something nice?

“No, sweetheart. Because you listen to me. You know what makes me happy. You’re doing something for me that no one else would have even bothered to try to do.” Eddie laughed. “I have never wanted to kiss you as much as I want to right now.”

“Not even that time I wore a crop top and your boxers?”

Eddie groaned. “That was an outlier. You know how that affected me.”

“Oh, I sure do,” Steve smirked. “Too bad we’re in public.”

“The doors open in an hour right?” Eddie asked, checking his watch.

“Yep.”

“And then you have to take Robin to her parent’s house?”

“Probably should.”

“And then what?” Eddie asked, already knowing exactly what.

“And then I’ll come to the trailer and I’ll walk right to your room and hopefully-“ Steve cut himself off to whisper the next part. “You’ll be naked.”

Eddie’s brows raised. “You want me naked? What about Wayne being home?”

“Wayne’s been sleeping with ear plugs for months now. Can’t hear a thing,” Steve pats Eddie’s blushing cheek. “Said he didn’t need to hear what his nephew got up to.”

“We really should just move my stuff into your new place,” Eddie suggested for the fifth time in as many days.

Steve wasn’t opposed at all.

In fact, he’d planned on asking him to move in once he got more settled.

But.

“Wayne wanted another Christmas with you at home, baby. He won’t say it, but when I brought up you moving in with me, I thought he was actually gonna cry.”

“Yeah, yeah. With this new amp, he’ll change his mind.”

“What makes you think you get this amp before Christmas?” Steve put his hands on his hips.

“Because now I know you’re getting it!”

“Uh-huh. And it’s getting wrapped with your other gift to be opened on Christmas morning. No early gifts on my watch.”

“Steeeeeeve. Please! I could use it at our show next week!”

Steve shook his head. “Your amp works fine. Christmas is only a month from now.”

“You’re getting revenge on me,” Eddie pouted.

“Revenge for what?” Steve snorted.

“You know what.”

Steve did. He felt his cheeks and neck heat up with a blush.

“Fine. Yes. Maybe it’s a little bit revenge.”

Eddie huffed, but didn’t argue further.

“You know I love you, too, right?” Steve whispered.

And Eddie forgot about everything else except the way Steve was looking at him, like he needed Eddie to understand how much he loved him.

“Yeah, sweetheart. I do.”

———————

Three days later, Steve set the amp up in the second bedroom of his rented house.

When Eddie came over, he pushed him into the room and wrapped his arms around his waist.

“You can play it here, but I’m still wrapping it up for Christmas and you aren’t allowed to bring it to shows until after. Okay?”

Eddie was bouncing on his toes and squeezing Steve’s hands so hard he was losing feeling.

“Okay! Thank you, thank you! I love you! Thank you!”

Eddie smacked a kiss on Steve’s cheek before pulling away and running to the amp.

“You need your guitar, honey,” Steve laughed.

“Right!” Eddie ran from the room to grab his guitar from his van.

Steve shook his head, but couldn’t help his fond smile as the front door banged open.

[revasserium]

Do not tempt me with your tags...

"Looking for Atlantis" (Shinji Moon) and OPLA Sanji? 'intense eyebrow wiggling*

looking for atlantis

opla!sanji; 1,542 words; fluff, aimless fluff, whipped!sanji, no 'y/n', teeth-rotting fluff, plotless fluff

summary: sanji dreamt of the all blue and wakes up to tell you about it

a/n: there's so very little plot in this, just a bunch of simp!sanji. ur welcome.

Sanji has always been a hopeless romantic. He knows it, Luffy knows it, hell, even the stupid swordsman knows it. But he’s never thought of his propensity for love as a weakness, and he’d always know that he’d find the one for him. And then — he’d met you.

And he thinks he’ll never get tired of this, of the feeling of waking up next to you, of opening his eyes to find you still there, curled up next to him, the splay of your hair across his pillows like spilled ink — something gorgeous and poetic. And like this, he thinks he just might be invincible — trailing soft fingers along the dip of your waist, just to trace your outlines, to memorize the shape and size and weight of you in his bed.

“Morning…” you turn with a sleepy grin, and Sanji thinks himself a gone, gone man.

“Morning, my love,” he whispers, leaning in to ghost his lips against your shoulder. How he wishes he could sink into the butter and milk of your skin, to bask in the warmth of your steady, cadenced breaths, to drown himself in the low, lulling waves of your voice when you laugh, rubbing at your eyes and sighing as you bury your face in his chest.

“Aren’t you gonna go make breakfast?”

Sanji hums as he drops another affectionate kiss into your hair.

“No. Not today.”

“Hm? Why not?”

“They’ve got leftovers.”

You peer up at him over the crumpled covers.

“Lazy,” you accuse, though there’s nothing hard or harsh about the tenor of your voice. He rolls his eyes, nodding as he slumps back down and pulls you into him.

“Sure, whatever you wanna call it.”

The silence stretches gossamer thin, glistening in the early morning light.

“Did you have nice dreams?” you ask.

Sanji grins, nosing into your cheek, ghosting his lips along the soft bend of your cheek till he finds your mouth. He contents himself with kissing you, with swallowing passed your tiny little sigh of contentment, with licking into the warm heat of the roof of your mouth, with pulling back to find you flushed and breathless beneath him.

“The best,” he says, laughing as he lays down beside you again.

“What about?”

“I dreamt… that I found the All Blue.”

“Oh, you did? What was it like?”

Sanji takes a breath, grinning as he pillows his head on an arm, the other wrapped around your shoulders as you shift to lay your cheek on his chest.

“It was… everything that I’ve ever dreamed of — all those fish, all those rare, unknown seagrasses and seaweeds…” Sanji lets out a long, indulgent sigh, tracing abstract symbols into your skin.

“So, what did you make?”

“Make?”

“Yeah — like… food.”

Sanji chuckles, glancing down towards you.

“I… can’t really remember… I think in the dream, I was so excited about showing you… that I didn’t really get to make anything before I woke up.”

You laugh, shaking your head.

“Okay, so tell me now.”

“What… about what I’d make with all the stuff I found in the All Blue of my dreams?”

“Yeah,” you say, looking up at him.

And when he glances down to meet your eyes, Sanji feels strange tugging just behind his navel, like a fish caught on an unsuspecting hook, or perhaps his body pulling him towards where he was always meant to go.

“Alright then…” he grins, sinking deeper into the welcoming warmth of the bedsheets, basking in the soft hsk-hsk of linen on linen. There’s a thick strip of lemon-meringue sunlight creeping into the room from the far window and the world tastes like candy floss on his tongue —

“I’d make all your favorites, except better — that miso cod you like so much? I’d make it with the All Blue Island Cod and miso made of soybeans fermented in blue seasalt.”

“Mm…” you hum, leaning in to trail your lips along the line of his jaw, making his mind go fuzzy, “that sounds good.”

“Doesn’t it?” Sanji asks, groaning, letting his head tip back. And for a while, you lose yourselves in the silk and shiver of each other, of half-taken breaths and half-drowned kisses. Of half-formed thoughts and half-tasted forevers. Because this is as much a drought as it is a drowning — and Sanji’s never been so parched or so bloated all at once. He is overflowing and yet, he’s never been so, so thirsty.

Sanji finds himself pinned beneath you, your thighs on either side of his hips, your hair tickling the bare skin of his shoulders, and he thinks to himself that he’s always known heaven was a place on earth. That he’d always been so in love with the thought of chasing the impossible, of chasing the shadow of a dream that the first time you kissed him, he almost didn’t believe it.

But then, you’d pulled back, and he remembers tasting the ocean in the dip of your cupid’s bow.

And he knew then, like he knows now, that there are no such thing as impossible places. No such thing as unachievable dreams.

“What else?” you ask, your palms pressing flat to his chest as he grins and slumps back, his head digging into the pillows.

“I — I dunno… hard to think when you’re being so distracting,” he admits.

Outside, a tangerine sun rises high above the horizon line and the sounds of the rest of the crew getting up thunk and echo around the ship. You look up, away from him, and Sanji feels the loss so intimately, he fears he might shatter.

“Hey…” he reaches up to tug your chin back down towards him, to catch your lips in his, to sink his teeth into the plush of your bottom lip just to swallow around the shape of your sigh, the texture of your gasp.

“Meanie,” you murmur, pulling away, though he’s still close enough to taste the grin on your lips.

“Oh… c’mon sweetheart… you know you like it, hm?”

You stare down at him with the entire sky dawning behind your eyes, and Sanji knows himself a lost man. You groan and let your face fall into the crook between his neck and his shoulders, burrowing in.

“Stay in bed with me… just a little bit longer.”

Sanji sighs, curling around you, like a cupped palm of shore around a glittering sea.

“I can never say no to you, can I?”

You laugh, shaking your head, “You’d better not.”

Sanji hums, wrapping you in his arms and placing another sweet kiss into your hairline.

“You never told me what you dreamt of last night,” he says.

And there’s a moment of quiet, a lacuna of silence that pools around you both. Then, you look up, your lashes fluttering, tugging the strings of his heart into something like a symphony.

“I dreamt about a sunrise over the All Blue… and about breakfast, and lunch, and dinner and dessert — I dreamt about all the things you might make once we find it. But mostly… I dreamt about you. That… you were smiling, and happy and so, so excited.”

Sanji feels his throat catch, his lungs seize.

There’s a moth-wing flutter of something in his chest that he’d once upon a time thought was his heart but now… he wonders if it isn’t the flicker of fish-tails or the flash of moonbeam scales.

“I love you,” Sanji hears himself say — and it’s not the first time he’s said it but it is the first time he’s said it like this — like he can’t help but to say it, like it’s the only thing left to say in the world.

You giggle, leaning up to kiss him.

“I love you too,” you say.

Sanji shakes his head, leans down to take both your cheeks in his palms, pressing your foreheads together.

“No, I don’t think you understand — I am so in love with you… I think it might actually drive me mad.”

Your smile never fades, never even falters, “I know… but says who that we weren’t just mad to begin with? And… I think I’d have to be at least a little crazy to fall in love with you.”

Sanji nods, smiling as he leans down for one more kiss, a lingering brush of lips on lips, a light, unhurried, indulgent thing.

“I like a bit of crazy,” he says, shifting to lie back down next to you, even as Luffy’s laughter rings in from outside and the ship rocks with the weight of the anchor being raised.

“So, no cooking today?” you ask, grinning as you snuggle in, letting your eyes fall shut once more.

Sanji shakes his head, “Nope. Leftovers.”

You laugh, “I love leftovers.”

Sanji hums, his own eyes drawing closed, “Yeah… so do I.”

And within minutes, you’re both asleep again, bodies bent around each other, breathing in sync, minds drifting off towards dreams, and dreams, and dreams.

[schrodingers-romy]

Jilted (not) Lover [Mitsuya Takashi x Reader]

Pairing: Mitsuya Takashi x GN!Reader Word Count: ~2,100 [Ao3 Link]

Summary: Takashi is your best friend (who you have some more than friendly feelings for); so you don't understand why he never seems to want to spend time with you anymore.

Warnings: mild misunderstandings, kissing, no gendered terms for reader; reader is a bit insecure, and Takashi is a little less emotionally mature than normal.

Notes: wasn't feeling good so I finally sat down and wrote an idea I've had for a while. Probably needs more editing but I want to let it finally fly free

You thought nothing of barging into your best friend’s room; after all, he gave you a spare key for a reason. “Takashi!” you called excitedly. “They let me off work early today! Do you wanna maybe go out and do something? I heard there was a new—”

You were cut off before you could even finish. “I’m sorry,” Takashi said, not even bothering to raise his eyes from the patterns in front of him. “I really need to finish this today.”

“Oh,” you said, deflating slightly. “Well, I could just hang around here if you want some company. I can help too!”

Still, you received barely any acknowledgement. “I’ve got it, I just need to focus. I’ll see you later, though.”

Your smile felt brittle. “Okay, sounds good. I’ll go see Yuzuha then. Don’t forget to show me your new design when you’re done.”

The door clicked shut softly behind you.

Later, you heard from Yuzuha that Takashi went out to the arcade with Hakkai that same day. You were hurt, but you wanted to think the best. Takashi probably just finished early and assumed you were busy. It was nothing.

Except it wasn’t.

-

Ever since the two of you met in middle school, you had never gone more than a few days without hanging out. Throughout high school you basically lived at his house, becoming almost like another sibling to his sisters. Even once you both graduated and got different jobs, the two of you spent most of your free time together. (Enough time together for you to develop a horrible infatuation with him, at the very least.)

And yet, for two weeks straight Takashi had been completely blowing you off.

He was always busy with last minute designs, or he had to take his sisters to something, or he already had plans with Draken or Hakkai or the old Toman members. Normally, he would ask you to tag along, but he barely talked to you other than to let you know he couldn’t see you or spend time with you.

You never said anything, keeping a nonchalant tone around him. But god, did it hurt. You didn’t know what you did wrong to deserve this treatment; you couldn’t remember anything. Maybe he had just finally gotten tired of you and was trying to let you down easy.

You did your best to ignore those thoughts. It’s Takashi, you thought. If there was something wrong, he would communicate with you. It was probably nothing. (You needed to tell yourself that to keep from breaking down.)

-

Even though your relationship with Takashi was at a standstill, you still talked to his sisters.

Today, you had come over to make the girls lunch before they left to go hang out with their friends. Takashi hadn’t come out from his room when you called.

[“It’s fine,” you said, “I know he’s busy.”

The girls gave each other a look when they thought you weren’t paying attention. At least these Mitsuyas noticed something was up, you thought bitterly.]

They were long gone, after thanking you for the food and each giving you an awkward teenager hug on the way out. You have the rest of the day free, so you take your time cleaning the dishes, in the pathetic hope that Takashi will come out and you two will go back to normal.

You think that your prayers are answered when you see him come down the stairs. He seems a little surprised to see you still there, and he gives you a small, distracted smile. Your heart flutters as you smile back.

You think he’s coming towards you, but he walks right by the kitchen and heads towards the door instead. “Thanks for making lunch for the girls. I’m sure it was great,” he says, lingering for a moment. “You can leave the rest of the dishes; I’ll get them when I come back.”

“Oh. Where are you going?” you ask. You can hear a nearly imperceptible buzzing in your ears. You wonder if you’re angry or just sad; it’s hard to tell sometimes.

“Just out with Draken. I’ll see you later, yeah?” He’s already opening the door to leave.

You try to keep your composure, but the way you slam the plate as you set it on the counter is telling. “Yeah. See you later, I guess.” You wince. Even to your own ears, you sound bitchy. And you were doing so well in keeping it straight...  

There is a second of hesitation, and then the door closes. You busy yourself with drying the remaining dishes, not bothering to look up. Takashi probably left already.

But then you hear his footsteps as he comes into the kitchen. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks.

You still don’t look at him. You hate how concerned he sounds. Because of course he noticed how snotty you sounded; it wasn’t subtle. And Takashi was nothing if not a mediator, so he would obviously want to talk it out. But now, even after praying for the barest scrap of his attention back, you want nothing more than for him to leave you alone. You aren’t ready for whatever sort of conversation this is going to be.

On one hand, you are still hurt by how he treated you, how he hung out with you less and less as he replaced you with Draken and Hakkai. On the other hand, you feel like you’re being nothing but a spoiled brat. Takashi doesn’t owe you anything; he’s nice, so this is probably his own way of letting you know that you were too clingy and that he needed space while trying to spare your feelings. You just don’t want to hear that out loud.

At this point, you can feel yourself getting worked up. Your own thoughts buzz in your head like a swarm of angry locusts, rattling to the ever-quickening beat of your heart in your ears. You don’t quite know if you want to cry or scream.

He’s right in front of you now; you can see his shoes sidle up next to your slipper-clad feet on the kitchen floor as you valiantly avoid eye contact.

“C’mon, talk to me,” he says, voice softening even more. Because of course he can tell you are getting more upset.

“Just go,” you say. You sound muffled in your own ears. “Go hang out with Draken, or Hakkai, or your other gang friends. I’m fine. Leave me alone.”

“I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s up.”

“Oh, now that I want you to leave me alone, you won’t.”

“Hey, what is that supposed to mean?” He sounds a little offended now, and that just makes you angrier.

You spin around to face him for the first time. You can see how his eyebrows furrow, purple eyes glistening with concern as they take in your expression.

You lose your grip on your emotions. “Oh, what does that mean? I mean you’ve been ditching me for weeks now! Every time I come around, you’re too busy, or you already have plans with someone else!” You take a deep breath, trying to rein yourself in. “Look, if you don’t want to be around me anymore, just say something. Not any of this ‘hinting’ bullshit. Just…just say something…because I honestly don’t know what’s going on, Takashi.”

Your anger burnt through you quickly, like a flashfire, and you can feel your eyes starting to water.

Takashi looks stricken. One of his hands comes up to grip yours, using it to pull you into a tight hug. It only takes one murmur of your name, spoken gently into your hair as he tucks your head underneath his chin, for you to fully break.

There are tears streaming down your face now. You start to babble. “You’re my best friend, Takashi,” you say, pitifully. “I miss you.”

You feel his arms tighten around you, until you can almost feel your bones grinding together. It kind of hurts, but you are just happy to be held. His grip loosens soon enough, and he pulls back so he can look you in the eyes.

“I fucked up.” He smiles sadly at you. “I never wanted to make you feel like that. You’re my best friend to…but I couldn’t stay like that, and I didn’t know what to do about it.”

You feel your heart drop; you don’t understand. “What’re you trying to say?”

He lets out a sigh, and then reaches to clasp both your hands in his. His eyes dart around the room, nervously, before settling back onto yours. There is a quiet intensity in them that he only has when things are serious. “I want to be more than friends. I like you…romantically. I realized it a few weeks ago…you were always so special to me, and I didn’t understand why until Draken pointed it out to me.”

He let out a light chuckle. “I treated you differently than I did everyone else because I had—have—a crush on you. I didn’t know what to do about it, so I started avoiding you. I thought I would blurt out something that would ruin our friendship. I didn’t think about how it would affect you. I’m so sorry.”

You can’t believe what you’re hearing. It seems so inconceivable that he would return your feelings. You don’t even know what to say, so you focus on the end of his short speech. “So much for being the emotionally intelligent one, huh?” you say, tone lighter than it has been this whole time.

He lets out a self-deprecating laugh, tilting his head down. “Yeah, yeah. Guess I’m better with other people’s problems than my own. But cut me some slack, this is the first time I’ve been in love with someone before.”

You freeze. “Love?”

He already told you he had a crush on you, but this brings your thoughts to a halt. Love is a much more serious claim than a simple crush.

Takashi seems to think so as well. His face shutters. It’s clear he didn’t mean to say that much, but he doesn’t back down. “Yeah. Love. But it’s okay you don’t feel the same way. I’m good with just being friends. Or whatever makes you comfortable. Um. I owe you that much after being such a shithead, huh?” He looks uncomfortable, like he is just waiting for you to reject him. Like it’s inevitable.

You give him a sharp flick on the nose. “Idiot. Who says I don’t feel the same way.”

“…You do?”

You let out a snort, fighting to keep a grin off your face. “Like I wasn’t pining after you for years. God, Takashi, I follow you like a lovesick puppy, and you didn’t catch a hint?”

You open your mouth to say something else, but you’re swept back into his arms before you can. The two of you are face to face now; from here, you get the full force of his blinding grin. He’s smiling so wide that his eyes are nothing more than crescents of purple, his pretty eyelashes nearly brushing his cheeks. He looks breathtaking.

You break out into your own smile, unable to keep the happiness off your face. You feel so light, lighter than you have in a long time. The knowledge that Takashi loves you is like a shot of dopamine straight to your brain; you feel nearly delirious from the sudden rush of happiness.

“I love you,” he says. He sounds so tender when he says it, you can’t help but tilt your head up to press a kiss to his lips. It’s nothing more than a peck, but the touch of his soft mouth against yours sends sparks through your body.

“I love you too,” you say.

He looks at you in awe, before he leans down to steal another kiss from your lips, this one longer, and deeper.

You never want to leave; you would happily spend forever standing in the middle of his kitchen, trading heartfelt kisses and basking in the warmth of your love with Takashi.

-

(Draken wonders what happened to Mitsuya; he missed their hangout without so much as a “can’t make it” text. He can only hope the other boy finally got the balls to confess his feelings to you. He loves his sworn brother, but he’s getting tired of seeing Mitsuya avoid you. And he is definitely getting tired of hearing his lovesick ramblings. Well, if the two of you haven’t gotten together by now, Draken supposes he could always go with Yuzuha’s plan to lock the both of you in a closet until you worked things out.)

[g1rld1ary]

red carpets - actor!sirius black x actress!reader

wc: 942

cw: none! you catch sight of sirius on the red carpet

tag: @lovemenotts

The sheer amount of noise surrounding you was making you light-headed. Yet, you plastered on a smile, smoothed out your silky skirt and stepped onto the red carpet. Your smile didn’t budge as you inched down the carpet, performing for the hungry cameras and the sometimes scary men behind them. You grit your teeth as they yell commands, changing pose as they desire, waiting to get to the interview portion of the red carpet. At least the journalists had to be polite to you.

A woman from some gossip rag you purposefully avoid reading calls you over and you consciously boost your smile again, turning up the energy to 100. She’s nice, at least, and a good conversationalist. Too many interviewers left you to pick up their slack and carry the conversation as if it weren’t their job to be digging for the information they want.

“How does it feel to be nominated for an Emmy in your first foray into television?” She asks and you beam.

“It’s such an honour, really. I mean, this show is such a labour of love, Lily put her heart and soul into the writing, so I’m just so grateful I got to be the one to bring it to life. It’s so amazing that we’re both being nominated tonight,” You answer with a practised grace, giving a glance to the camera behind the interviewer.

The conversation continues and you find yourself enjoying it more than you anticipated. The interviewer connects with you well and matches your excited energy at being around celebrities. You figure it’s about time you move on, but give her one more question as a secret reward for her not being as invasive as the others usually are. She asks about your friendship with Lily and creating a project with someone you’d known forever and you grin again.

You start your answer, gushing over Lily’s talent for screenwriting and your friendship of ten years. You turn to look for her, meaning to gesture when your eyes get caught on something. Someone.

“Who is that?” You ask the interviewer, pointing out the most gorgeous man you’d ever seen in your life. Long dark hair, dressed in all black with silver jewellery glinting in the flash of cameras, you basically fall in love at first sight.

“That’s Sirius Black,” The interviewer answers with a laugh.

“God, what is he from?” He’s honestly supernaturally good-looking, you’re not convinced he’s real.

“He co-created and stars in The Marauders series, you haven’t seen it yet?”

“No, I’ve been meaning to but I haven’t had the time — Lils says it really has to be appreciated so I’m waiting to dedicate significant time to it. He did not look like that on the poster.” The series is set in high school and so all the actors look different, younger, Sirius no exception. The dark eyeliner around his grey eyes creates a magnetic contrast that makes him look much more mature than his character.

“Is it safe to say you’ll be finding him at the after-party?” The interviewer asks cheekily. The situation comes back to you in an instant; you’re on camera and who knows how many people are seeing you thirst over another actor in real-time.

“God no,” You laugh, frantically trying to brush over the incident, “I don’t chase after boys. He’d have to work for my attention.” You wink in an attempt to deliver the joke and it goes over smoothly enough, the interviewer graciously letting it go and thanking you for your time. You thank her profusely.

You chance another glance at Sirius as you move on, all grace and long limbs as he effortlessly poses for photos and messes around with his co-stars, spirit not yet beaten out of him by Hollywood. You envy the way his cast talk all the way through the process, clearly extremely fond of each other. You would go to the ends of the earth for Lily, your best friend and writer of the show you star in, but your male lead couldn’t be more opposite. Severus Snape was someone you would never get along with, and your interviews consisted of forced smiles and camaraderie on your side and zero effort from him. You would love a cast like The Marauders, not that you would dare complain to Lily, who had given you so much.

You don’t end up meeting Sirius during the awards or the afterparty, unfortunately, though you do see him once more across the room and feel the flutter of intrigue in your stomach. The next awards ceremony you had a goal, and a series to watch in the meantime.

LOVE IS ON THE RED CARPET? EMMY WINNER ADMIRES NOMINEE SIRIUS BLACK

The clip from that interview goes viral, both your fans and Sirius’ dissecting every frame of the videos. Some focus on the subtle up-and-down you give him, slowing it down to a snail’s pace to catch every eye movement. Others focus on Sirius, swearing they could see his eyes flick over to you for a fraction of a second. The ultimate conclusion is that you two should be in love, or already are, and fan edits of both you and your characters are already surfacing on TikTok.

You sigh from your hotel bed, scrolling through an endless amount of photos of him and yourself. Your publicist would not be happy with you. Although, it could be a pretty good marketing strategy.

[pearlescent-poppies]

I’m sick and tired of the Flower Husbands discourse. Like really truly it is just making me so upset now. They are my comfort ship. They are. My first tattoo is a poppy with the ESMP1 quote. I want to hold them in my hands and give them all of the good things in the world. When I see people calling them toxic and abusive, it really hurts me. And there’s not a tag to filter out all of it, not all of them tag “toxic flower husbands”. I get it, okay? I do. I get why you might see them like that. But if anything? If we’re going to see Flower Husbands as the most toxic duo, take a look at every other relationship Jimmy has in the Life Series (with the exception of Tango) and you’ll find the same thing. He’s the butt of the joke. He’s the canary they all poke fun of in his cage. He doesn’t care. But Scott does care. If Desert Duo never left the desert, Scott never stopped crying at Jimmy’s grave. Did you watch his series all the way through? Did you see his ideal afterlife? That Jimmy welcomed him home because that is what they had together? Did you hear the way Scott’s voice got sad talking about how quiet and weird it was not to have Jimmy with him? Have you not watched as Scott uses every single opportunity possible to bring up Flower Husbands? He misses Jimmy with every fiber of his being. Jimmy misses Scott too. Did you watch Last Life? Do you know what Martyn did to make Jimmy give him back the life? He promised a life together, Martyn says it himself! That it was all romantic promising to run away just the two of them. How Jimmy was so hopeful. So naive because this was the beginning, he’s not got all of the hope anymore. Jimmy has had to move on. Jimmy made himself move on. 30 seconds. Do you not imagine him turning away from that interaction resigned to his choice a single tear rolling down his face before he rejoins his boys in their shenanigans? Cause I do. That was a man he had devoted his life to. And yeah, maybe it was because of a joke and a silly a poppy. But do you know what a poppy means? Remembrance, dreams, death, and hope for a peaceful future. Do you know what the white daisy, blue cornflower, and red tulip meant at Jimmy’s grave? Purity, life, reanimation, hope, and true feelings. Do you think a character who conveys a message like that capable of the abuse you accuse him of? Scott’s general air of cattiness is just his character. Hard edges that once you’ve chipped away at, reveal someone who is extremely dedicated and fiercely loyal even and especially to his own detriment. Scott will make jokes about finally being free once his husband dies to the war, but I really think that’s just him preparing for the inevitable. Jimmy was going to die. Canary or not. They all were. So why not make a joke out of being lambs in a slaughterhouse. Isn’t that one of the main ways people cope? Scott loved his husband. Still does and will continue too. Jimmy is the same. But he let go. Had to. He would never have forgiven himself for dragging Scott down with him. How many times do you think that man apologised to Tango for dying first. How many times do you think that man apologised to Tango for dying first before they even lost their third life in the first place? I honestly think Scott himself sums this up best: “I don’t always put myself first and sure I’ve made plenty of mistakes and I’ve hurt people. But I’ve always done my best.”

So next time you wanna call them toxic, rewatch the series and think about this post.

[zepskies]

One Exception

Pairing: CJ Braxton x F. Reader

Summary: Joey has invited you to a party at Pacey’s apartment, and CJ has agreed to go, despite the contentious history between him and your new friends. He doesn’t want to be the reason you miss out on a good thing, but it also means he’ll have to hide his apprehension (and his alcoholism).  

AN: Here’s the sequel to Good Morning! This story takes place in 6.14 of the show, with a little twist.

Word Count: 4K

Tags/Warnings: Mature themes, but it doesn’t really warrant an 18+ rating. Angst, alcoholism, hurt/comfort, jealousy, fluff, tinge of spice, and implied smut.

“Nice television,” CJ remarked, noting the giant monstrosity in the middle of this very loud apartment.

“See? Told you it’d be low-key,” you said.

More like high and off-key, CJ thought wryly.

Nickleback’s “How You Remind Me” was blaring. People you and CJ recognized from school were crowded in the living room around the TV, as well as milling around the kitchen with beers and solo cups, and it was pretty much a wall of sound that already grated on CJ’s ears. Pacey had to be in here somewhere too.

You squeezed CJ’s hand and gave him a sympathetic smile.

“You okay?” you asked.

He gave you a smile to hide his nerves. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

He was no stranger to parties. He just didn’t often find himself going to parties where the host had once introduced his face to a brick wall.

Before he truly got to know you, CJ had a one-time unintentional fling with your (former) dorm roommate, Audrey. She’d been spiraling out of control in an alcohol-fueled depression. He’d seen a kindred spirit in her and tried to help her. He just hadn’t known that she was still sort of in a relationship with Pacey, who had a mean right hook when he wanted to.

And then there was Jen, Audrey and Joey’s best friend. CJ felt the worst for hurting her along the way, unable to reciprocate her feelings…

And, oh yeah, you still didn’t know about that last part. 

CJ silently stewed in all of this when you led him by the hand to find your friend and current dormmate, Joey.

“Hey! Glad you could make it,” she said with her wide, doe brown eyes and a too-bright smile.

You gave her a quirking look when you hugged her in greeting. She smelled like vodka and orange juice, but you’d never known Joey to go too hard in the paint with her liquor.

She gave your companion a little wave. “Hey, CJ!”

“Hey,” he nodded with a smile.

“You guys want something to drink?” she asked, gesturing to the row of liquor bottles and various chasers behind her on the kitchen counter. You internally paused for a moment, glancing at your boyfriend, but you turned back to Joey with a smile.

“Yeah, Diet Coke would be great,” you said.

CJ gave you a curious look, but he asked for the same. Joey bobbed her head before she went to pour the drinks into some plastic cups.

CJ leaned in near your ear. “Sweetheart, you’re allowed to drink. You know I’ve been to parties before.”

In fact, you and CJ had met at a club party. One where Audrey had been led up to some guy’s room while she was drunk, and CJ had all but broken down the door to get her out for you and Jen.

“I know, I just don’t feel like doing alcohol tonight,” you told him.

It wasn’t exactly a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either. You just didn’t want to risk making CJ even more uncomfortable than he likely already was, being near Pacey. You’d asked Joey to talk to him for you—a plea for him to not try and kill your boyfriend.

And there your esteemed host was, coming over now.

“Heyyyy, good thinking,” said Pacey. He went over to Joey’s side when she turned to hand you and CJ your drinks. He grabbed another cup to pour one for himself. 

“Hey, man,” CJ greeted politely. His hands were in his pockets, trying to mask his stiffness.

Pacey hesitated, taking note of CJ, but the beat of tension broke between the two men when Pacey graciously stuck out a hand.

“Hey. Good to see ya…not with my girlfriend,” he quipped with a smile.

CJ’s was a bit more strained, but he gave a wry chuckle along with his handshake. Joey elbowed Pacey in the ribs.

“Ah, what?” he protested. She gave him a firm look, pursing her lips. Then she turned to you and CJ with a smile.

“Hey, you guys have any whiskey?” Jen cut in, as she sidled up to Joey. “I’m not so much in a beer mood, but whiskey I could do. Maybe it’s the burn I’m craving—”

She stopped short when she saw you and CJ. Her smile thinned.

“Oh! Hey, there,” she said.

CJ offered her nod, but his insides tightened. He watched you brighten and give Jen a hug that the other woman couldn’t easily reciprocate. Jen’s eyes were on him, even while she hugged you.

You and Joey then broke off to catch up for a bit (CJ encouraged you to it), while Pacey went back to watching a football game on the mega-sized TV with Jack. CJ was about to join them when Jen’s voice stopped him.

“You guys look good together,” she said. She had a glass of whiskey in her hand and a small smile on her face. Her blonde hair was shorter now, cut just below her ears. Her black halter-style dress suited her.

But she wasn’t you.

CJ smiled more genuinely. “Thanks.”

Jen was a good person. He was still sorry that he hurt her, but he wasn’t sorry for choosing you.

You were happy to see CJ hanging out with his friend David, along with Jack and Pacey and some other guys from school. Meanwhile, you had the chance to catch up with Joey and Jen.

Maybe it would give you a chance to mend this weird rift of distance that had seemed to come between you and Jen in recent weeks.

You didn’t know where it came from, but you genuinely admired Jen as a person. She was smart, and she always spoke her mind and stuck to her principles. That was something you wish you had more of in yourself.

Now, she was a bit quiet while sipping her whiskey. Joey made up for it, with a kind of giggle-snort you'd never heard come out of her mouth before. You raised a brow, despite your smile.

"Yes, Josephine?" you teased.

"Sorry," she waved a dismissive hand. "Just remembered something. Like the fact that I really like vodka. I mean, it's clear, almost tasteless, so it's almost like drinking water, you know?"

You and Jen shared an amused look.

"Sure, that's what it's like," you said.

Joey's eyes went wide then. She leaned in close to you, leaning on your shoulder.

"Oh. Don't drink champagne though," she said, while eyeing Jen. She "whispered" loud enough to be heard over the music, and also hurt your left ear. "She once killed a girl with champagne."

Jen's mouth fell open incredulously. Your eyes went as wide as Joey's. This was some serious “girl time.”

"Wait, what?" you said.

Jen looked at her empty glass. "Well, would you look at that? Right on time."

She escaped to the kitchen to refill her tumbler, but you and Joey followed her; you out of morbid curiosity, and Joey because she too wanted more vodka than orange juice in her plastic cup.

Jen gave you a smirk as she filled up her glass.

"Don't worry, you're all safe. This is Jameson," she said.

You emitted some nervous laughter and leaned on the kitchen counter, trying to figure out where the joke was here. How the hell do you kill a girl with champagne?

“So are you sure you don’t want an actual drink?” Jen asked, gesturing at your soda.

“Oh, no. I’m fine,” you held up a dismissive hand.

“You sure?” Pacey said, coming up from behind your little group to find a beer. “I got your boyfriend a vodka soda. I can get you one too.”

Your eyes widened, though you tried to hide your alarm, smoothing your hands down your jeans.

“What?” you asked.

Pacey paused. He’d caught the surprise flitting across your face. “What?”

“Um…” Your hesitation came from trying to process information in record time. You looked over and saw CJ with David. Your boyfriend was indeed holding a different cup.

You returned your attention to Pacey. His brows were raised. Joey looked confused as well, while Jen was sipping at her own drink, in a way that hinted that she already knew what you were about to say.

“CJ doesn’t drink,” you explained.

Pacey brows popped higher. “Ah. He’s 21 though, right?”

“Yes, but he’s a recovering alcoholic,” you said with a sigh. You didn’t want to have to say that, telling CJ's business, but you didn’t know how else to explain why you were slightly freaking out.

“Oh…uh, sorry about that,” Pacey said.

“No, it’s not your fault. Don’t worry about it,” you said.

Pacey gave a wan smile and returned to the group around the TV, CJ included. You sighed and turned back to Jen and Joey.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know either,” Joey said.

“Nothing to be sorry about,” you said, shaking your said. “I’ll just check on him, if you guys don’t mind—”

Jen’s glass hit the counter, and she poured herself another whiskey on the rocks.

“By all means, check away,” she said.

“Hey, sorry man. I didn’t know,” Pacey had said to him, with a look on his face that also said:

Sorry you’re a leper. That’s rough buddy.

CJ found himself withdrawing from the rest of the guys, even as the smell of vodka wafted from the solo cup in his hand. He glanced down at it with a short sigh, but he didn’t drink it, even though his hand itched to raise the cup to his lips.

You startled him a little when your hand curled around his arm.

“Hey,” you greeted in a whisper.

“Hey,” he smiled back at you. But the worried look on your face made his smile fall.

“Wanna hang out for a bit?” you asked, nodding at a quieter looking corner of the living room.

CJ waved at David with the hand that held his cup, and he followed you over to the far side of the couch. You sat on its edge, arms crossed, while he found a seat on the sill of a large window.

You pointedly glanced at his cup. “Have you been drinking?”

CJ’s lips pursed. He took in your stance: arms crossed, shoulders tense, lips pursed, eyes deeply concerned and wary.

Are we having fun yet? he thought dryly.

“See, I’d be more inclined to answer that question if you hadn’t lured me over here under false pretenses,” he remarked. Though he did set the cup down beside him on the windowsill.

“What false pretenses?” you asked, your brows furrowing.

“You don’t want to be with me. You want to check up on me,” he pointed out. “You’re looking at me like an inmate who got loose in the psych ward.”

You frowned then. “That’s not true. I’m just wondering why you would take an alcoholic beverage from Pacey.”

“Your friend offered me a drink. It seemed rude to say no, so…” CJ glanced down at his hands in his lap. Your head tilted in concern.

“CJ…” you sighed. “Why the hell would you ruin your sobriety over something like that?”

“I don’t expect you to understand,” he replied flatly.

“Oh really?” you said. Your lips pursed in irritation.

“I just didn’t want to get into it with a stranger,” CJ said, throwing up a hand. “But thanks for telling him that I don’t drink. Now he’s apologizing to me like I’m dying or something.”

A sharper sigh fell from your lips. “I told you we didn’t have to come here. I didn’t want to make you feel pressured to—”

“Again, you know this isn’t my first house party,” he said.

“Yeah, I know it’s not. So why? Why did this happen tonight?” you asked. “For as long as I’ve known you, you’ve been so disciplined with yourself. You have a set of rules, and you follow them.”

“Yeah, well, did it ever occur to you that maybe I realized that I was too strict on myself?” he said. “That maybe we wouldn’t even be together if I didn’t bend those rules?”

Your mouth fell open incredulously, a bit of anger sparking your blood. He knew he shouldn't have said that. It just kind of flew out of his mouth, immediately sparking his guilt.

“Okay,” you snipped. “Well, maybe you shouldn’t be bending those rules at all if this is where it leads.”

CJ's lips pursed. “What, because I’ve been sitting here, spending the last hour debating whether or not to take a drink?”

He gestured at the cup beside him. 

Your eyes blinked wider, with even more surprise, and a heavy dose of confusion.

“Wait, what? Are you telling me that you haven’t been drinking tonight?” you asked.

“Is that going to magically change all the conclusions you just jumped to?” CJ retorted.

You closed your eyes with a sharp, exasperated sigh. When you opened them again, you frowned at him.

“Uh, yeah!” you exclaimed. "Of course it does, CJ!"

“Well, it doesn’t work that way,” he said. “Yeah, I’ve been thinking about it. Fine. Just like I’ve been trying to find some normalcy with you here. But apparently you find that wildly insulting.”

He was getting wildly defensive right now. You sort of saw where he was coming from, but it was still frustrating. You held a hand to your chest as your heart raced with the force of your relief.

“Look, I’m sorry for assuming. I’m just…I was worried about you,” you said honestly. “I knew coming here might be stressful for you—”

“I can handle stress,” CJ said. “What I can’t handle is you looking at me like I’m a powder keg waiting to explode.”

You raised up placating hands as you glared at him.

“Fine,” you said. “Sorry for being concerned about my boyfriend. I’ll try to curb that behavior in the future.”

At that, CJ’s frustration and anger simmered down, swiftly followed by more guilt.

You got up and blinked quickly, like you were fighting tears as you shook your head. You aimed to get by him, but he got off the windowsill and went for your hand. There was no drunk excuse for his behavior now.

No, this one was all him.

“Hey,” he said, in a softer voice. He looked down at you with softer eyes too. He could see now that you didn’t mean to make him feel less than, like you had to watch him so he wouldn’t mess up in front of your friends. No, you were just genuinely worried about his wellbeing. 

You looked up at him warily. He held your hand more securely in his.

“Okay, I’m sorry. I am,” he said, when he noted your raised brow. “I’m really grateful that you care about me. That you’re concerned about me. But I’ve been dealing with this for a long time. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t be yourself either, even when we’re out here in the wild.”

A small smile twitched at your lips. You held his hand back.

“Out in the wild, huh?” you quirked a brow. CJ smiled back and brushed your cheek with his thumb.

“I just need you to trust me a little more,” he said.

You nodded, smiling when his forehead gently rested against yours. The ends of his hair tickled between your brows.

“Okay, I’m sorry too,” you said. “Next time I won’t be so quick on the draw.”

You leaned up for a kiss. CJ met you there, sweetly at first. Then he tilted his head and deepened the angle of his lips moving against yours.

“Ooh save that for later,” Joey said, loudly from behind you.

It made you jolt in CJ’s arms. You turned your head and met your friend with a wide-eyed look of confusion. She held an empty wine bottle in her hand and waggled mischievous brows.

“Come on, let’s play.”

You really couldn’t believe that Joey was making you all play Spin the Bottle. For you, it was the stuff of awkward middle school horror stories of the highest form. She’d roped in you and CJ, Jen, Jack, Pacey and their roommate Emma, and Gus, a gross looking guy who was apparently her "fiancé" of some sort. 

Gus took the first turn, and got creative with it—giving Joey a nice lick on the cheek.

That’s what you get for making us play this dumbass game, you thought as you laughed.

Joey ended up giving Jack a sweet kiss, followed by him and Emma sharing a little lip-lock, and even Emma and Jen giggling as they came together for a peck.

But when it was Jen’s turn, the wine bottle spun, and spun…and landed on CJ. A chorus of “ooohs” came from the others.

You felt yourself bristle internally. It’s just a game, you reminded yourself. Just a stupid, stupid game.

You patted CJ’s knee and tried to school your face into amusement.

“You’re up, babe,” you said.

He looked a bit uncomfortable when he met your eyes, and then Jen’s. She wore a smile, though she was a little absent in the eyes. She’d been pounding hard liquor pretty much all night.

“All right, CJ. Let’s get this over with,” she teased.

He let out a subtle breath through his nose, but he uncurled his arm from around you so that he could lean over to meet Jen across the circle. Instead of the light peck that he was aiming for, she surprised him by taking his face in her hands and giving him a kiss deep enough to make him taste the burn of whiskey.

He parted from her with a flinch. His eyes blinked wide. A quick glance around the circle told him he wasn’t the only one who was surprised, but you were the only one he cared about. He settled back next to you and felt guilty for your muted disbelief, even though he wasn’t the real perpetrator here.

CJ frowned hard at Jen. She just smiled and crossed her arms around her legs, head bobbing to the tune of the alt rock music playing.

“Damn, Jen,” Pacey said, laughing uncomfortably. “That’s some dedication to the game.”

You were still shocked into stillness. You knew Jen was a bit deep into the bottle, but was she really drunk enough to try and make out with your boyfriend in front of you?

Joey finally dropped her hands from her face (she’d been watching the scene through the cracks in her fingers). She gave you an apologetic look. She was very effing drunk as well, you knew, but not make out with your boyfriend in front of you—drunk.

You finally looked over at CJ, not knowing who you should be more irritated with: Jen for sticking her tongue down his throat, or CJ for letting her.

“It’s your turn, bro,” Gus said. Not that he cared about whoever CJ landed on. He just wanted the chance to kiss another one of the girls. Preferably Emma.

CJ shook his head. “I don’t think I—”

“Go ahead,” you said. Your tone was a challenge, as were your crossed arms, and the tight expression on your face. “It’s just a game, right?”

That last part, you aimed at Jen. She finally had enough self-awareness to avert her drunken gaze. Your teeth were grinding.

Though you had to pause when you realized where CJ’s spun bottle had landed: right on you.

“Aw, well that’s good,” Joey said, with a nervous laugh that broke some of the tension in this little circle.

CJ let out a subtle breath of relief himself. But this was a whole new challenge as he met your steely gaze. He tried to give you a smile.

Your eyes fell. So with a small sigh, he gently took your chin between his fingers and tilted your face up to him, just before he leaned in to kiss you.

He plied you softly at first. His lips dragged against yours in a slow, lingering kiss. Then he angled his head away from the circle, away from prying eyes as he brushed his tongue across your lower lip, seeking entrance. You inhaled deeply, and you couldn’t help but let him in.

You uncrossed your arms and found his cheek with your hand. Your fingers soon delved into his hair, nails lightly scraping the back of his neck. He barely restrained a shudder.

“Ah, okay then,” Pacey muttered.

When you parted from CJ, your heart was racing, and there was a fire in your belly that you could see reflected in his eyes.

“I’m a little thirsty, you wanna…” he trailed. You nodded and let him help you off the ground where you all had been sitting.

CJ’s arm once again wrapped around your waist, and he led you into the first bedroom he could find. The door shut against the blaring music, the sounds of laughter and stories and dumb middle school games.

Until all that was left was you and CJ, and the sounds of quick breaths, clothes hitting the floor, and skin against skin.

“I’m sorry about earlier. With the game,” CJ later said. “Jen took me by surprise.”

Much later, where you were tangled up in his arms and the sheets, both of you mostly naked and tucked under the covers. You felt bad that you didn’t even know whose bedroom this was.

Jack’s maybe? You could only hope so. That would probably be the least awkward situation if you two were caught in here.

But at CJ’s question, your blissful mood of moments before was wiped away. Your face dropped into a frown. You turned in his arms so that you could see his face, resting your head on his arm.

“Yeah, what the hell was that with Jen?” you asked.

CJ soothed a hand up and down your arm. He knew it was time for him to come clean with you, even though he knew it might make you look at him differently. He could only hope that it wouldn’t.

“Before you and I started talking, dating—well, you know what happened with me and Audrey,” he said, expelling a breath of regret. “Before then, Jen had feelings for me.”

Your eyes widened. By now you could’ve guessed that Jen wanted your boyfriend, but you had no idea it had started way back then. CJ looked you in the eyes.

“I just didn’t feel the same way,” he said. “Then Audrey and I happened, just the one night. But Jen…I know I hurt her, and I felt terrible. I still feel bad about that, because I never meant to hurt her. I just thought Audrey and I had a connection.”

“And then Pacey,” you supplied, realizing where this story was headed. A fight between Pacey and CJ. Audrey left for rehab in California. And Jen was left to nurse her wounded pride and hurt feelings…especially when you and CJ began for real.

You closed your eyes on a sigh. This explained why she’d been so frigid to you lately.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” CJ said. “I didn’t want to come between you guys, or hurt her more by pursuing another one of her friends…I just couldn’t help falling for you.”

At that admission, you softened. You caressed CJ’s cheek, and you brought him down to you for a kiss. Again, it was slow and unhurried, yet no less passionate.

Your lips parted from his first, so you could meet his eyes.

“I’ll talk to Jen,” you said. “But…I’m glad I fell for you too.”

You and CJ shared a quiet moment then, each of you processing, hands intertwined. It had you thinking about everything he said tonight, even before the game. 

“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about it. Fine,” he’d said. “Just like I’ve been trying to find some normalcy with you here. But apparently you find that wildly insulting.”

You sighed and squeezed his hand. It was comfortably trapped between his bare chest and yours.

“Just for the record, you don’t have to be ‘normal’ for me, or be what you think I want around my friends. Just be you,” you said, meeting his green-eyed gaze. “I do trust you, CJ. I trust that you want to be with me, and that you have a handle on yourself.”

CJ smiled ruefully. He ran his thumb across the back of your hand.

“You were right though. The truth is I did get a little nervous tonight,” he said. “Being here, seeing Pacey…it brought up all that drama again. I took that vodka soda from him, and I was thinking about drinking it.”

“But you didn’t,” you said firmly. “Because you’re strong. Stronger than anyone I know.”

CJ looked down at your hand joined with his, at your face, set with honesty and vehemence. You seemed to believe every word of what you were saying. That alone made him feel strong.

“Thanks,” he said with a smile.

It hadn’t been all that long, but he knew this felt right. It always felt right with you.

You smiled back at him and leaned up for a sweeter kiss.  

“Thank you for bending your own rules for me,” you teased.

CJ chuckled. He stroked your cheek and pressed another kiss to your forehead.

“You’re my one exception,” he said.   

AN: As frustrated as CJ made me at times, somehow he weasels his way back into my heart. 😂💗 If you enjoyed this, let me know!

Ko-Fi Me ☕

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[iwaasfairy]

Forgot how much I love Atsuko until I saw him again, spent the next hour scrolling his tag and reading about the nasty lil demon

He's so horrible❤️ really is his father's son

YeYEUEYEEYE honestly same I go through periods of withdrawal and then severe addiction sFYDYTSST he iSSS HE IS a nasty lil demon he’s a gross guy just like his dad and we love him for it

quick n very unchecked so sorry if it’s full of typos I just missed himmmm

tw mom x son incest, jealousy, ko being sweet for once gets him privileges

“Hi, Mrs. Oikawa! Looking good!”

“Yo, your mom is young. And hot.” Someone pipes up too loud, making the guys snicker when Atsuko resorts to chucking an empty beer bottle at his head. He dodges just in time, maybe luckily, because the others don’t know he definitely meant for it to hit. All except probably Eiji, who’s brows arch up in a knowing sort of quirk before he takes another few swigs of the alcohol.

“Gotta help unload, don’t wait up,” he says.

And it can only be the smart ass older guy who mumbles back an amused “Take your time.”

Atsuko doesn’t bother to reply further. He might’ve started a fight when he was a bit younger, instead he just jogs up to pick you up into a twirled hug first thing when you get out of the car.

You laugh brightly, and his mouth aches to meet yours. “Oh, hello,” your soft voice chants almost song like, rubbing your hand along his cheek just quickly before already starting to worm out of his grip. Too soon. “Missed you, Ko. You should have seen some of the rooms Tooru set us up into— they were perfect. I’ve never had such a relaxing time in my life.” Your face is coloured from the sun, a few extra light freckles to be seen on your cheeks when you click open the trunk and sigh at the luggage.

He’s quick to dip down and steal a kiss when you’re distracted, before tossing the bags over his shoulders and picking up the slumped luggage. “I got it.”

“Sure?” Your eyes shine, and he tries his best not to be jealous at the idea that you spent two whole weeks celebrating your anniversary with Tooru. Two weeks where his dad no doubt fucked you in every corner of the fancy suite and every semi-private area of the beach. He is though- extremely. “I leave for a few days to come back to my baby all gentlemanly,” you smile softly when he motions his face at the door.

And he clicks his tongue, before pulling the tip of it between his teeth as he trails behind you to get a good look of your ass in the elegant, but skintight skirt you’re wearing. “I’m wooing you, that’s why,” he nods back, grinning wider when you stare back at him.

+

His hands are on your shoulders as he manipulates you to sit in front of the mirror and look back at the both of you- hanging onto his hand as he stands full, towering height above you. “Atsu,” you start when his one hand moves to your crown, grabbing himself through his boxers while looking at every perfect expression on your face - flushed and needy and distracted, “I just got back, I’m tired. And your dad will be home in an hour, he’s just gone to get groceries- and- agh.”

He doesn’t bother to wait to push his underwear down until his already hard, flushed and heavy cock bobs up between his legs at the sound of your voice. Then his fist wrings around the edge of the head to watch some precum bead at the slit, and he shuffles in to put it up to your face. “Missed you too much. Don't tell me that old geezer tired you out that bad. See what I’ve been dealing with for weeks?” You don’t say anything because you’re too distracted with letting your hand wrap around as he insists, throwing his head back when you let your tongue out to meet his pounding tip. It thumps almost meanly with his heartbeat when your mouth lets him invade into it, slowing to suck around the most sensitive part of him. “Ohh- fuck. Oh fuck, mom. Missed my mom’s fucking- taste so much. Your mouth, ‘n your cunt- fuck me.”

It makes his entire face reddish with hot blood, mind so empty, and his eyes blurry when fucking into your mouth with impatient bucks. It just feels so fucking good when you don’t stop him, let out a soft mewl when sucking your cheeks around his thick length on the way up. “I’m in-,” you smack when you come up, smiling up at him and moaning when his fingers pull into your hair and yank you around, “in a good mood today.” Atsuko’s fucking flushed. Where you’re sitting under him without a complaint in the world, taking his balls into your mouth to make him shudder on his legs and stare down at you with mouth agar, he can barely believe it when you slip off your ring to put it on the grond, then blink up at him. “I like it when you miss me like this. It’s sweet.”

Your naked chest rises and falls in tune with his, where you blink big, loving eyes up at him Like you’re seeing only him. There’s no complaints of Tooru to be heard, and you’re kissing up his thigh in a way that will surely haunt him. “Tell me where you want me? Missed you, baby.”