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xxsabitoxx · 4 months

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Okkotsu Yuta NSFW A-Z

Part of my 20k follower celebration (past due)

Warnings: if it isn’t abundantly clear, this is smut :)

A/N: in honor of hitting 20k followers a while back, I’m going to be posting 10 NSFW alphabets for JJK men - here is scheduled post number 13 :)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Yuta’s aftercare is perfect in every possible way. This man puts so much effort into making sure you are comfortable, clean, and happy after sex. He’ll usually always run you a bath, even if you are exhausted. He’ll carry you into the bathroom and get in the tub with you. He takes the time to fill it with epsom salts and calming aroma scents like lavender and eucalyptus. He’ll massage your body wherever you say you’re a bit tender and he’ll make sure to scrub you clean. Yuta feels energized after sex so it’s not surprising that he has so much energy to take care of you. He’ll make sure to dry you off thoroughly and help you dress in the softest of pajamas. He’ll dry and brush your hair for you, get you water and even pain relievers if he thinks you’ll need them.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Yuta is totally infatuated with your chest. He adores everything about it, big, small, flat, doesn’t matter, he’ll spend hours sucking on your chest. Yuta loves to spoon with you, his hands under your shirt and cupping your chest happily, he isn’t even doing it to initiate something with you, he just adores the warmth and softness they offer him. When he’s fucking you, he loves watching your hands scramble to hold your chest because he’s rutting into you too damn hard and causing your whole body to recoil because of it. Which, of course, only makes him work harder.

Yuta is quite shy at first, finding it hard to pinpoint a part of his body that he favors. But, over time, Yuta finds he has a lot of confidence in his arms. Specifically his forearms, because of the way they bulge when he uses his strength to keep you in place. Or maybe when he’s fucking you in front of a mirror and can see the way his arms look wrapped around your waist.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He’s filthy, in every way possible. Yuta loves seeing you ruined and fucked out, but he also loves seeing you covered in the sticky mess that his cum makes. Honestly, he’ll cum anywhere you want him to. Even then he can’t make the promise that it’ll end up where you want it, he could aim for your chest but end up on your face, he could aim for coming inside and accidentally pull out and spill his load on your sex. It depends how lost he is in the moment.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Yuta really likes when you degrade him and call him mean names. He doesn’t even have an explanation for why it turns him on the way it does but he loves it. That and the fact that he finds you so unbelievably hot when you’re mad at him… which is really rare cause he doesn’t do many things to piss you off. But fighting is inevitable in relationships, and for the two of you it usually ends in marathon sex so he can’t say he doesn’t like arguing either. He tries not to piss you off on purpose… unless he’s really horny and in the mood to get fucked stupid.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Yuta doesn’t have a ton of experience but you’d never guess it. He’s had maybe two or three partners max and only one instance of a one night stand. Still, he’ll get texts from blocked numbers begging for him back because nobody can fuck them like he did. He’ll show you the messages when they come in and let you handle them how you please, he has all he needs right in front of him so he couldn’t care less about texts like that. Needless to say, Yuta not only knows how to make someone feel good, but how to leave a lasting impression.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary, and if you find that boring clearly you’ve been doing it wrong. Yuta adores missionary, I mean he enjoys fucking you in just about every position but there is something so intimate about missionary that drives him up the wall. He loves how close you are, how he can feel your body moving against his, how his weight is making you wheeze and squirm and just produce the prettiest noises he’s ever heard. He loves how he can still kiss you, bite you, and suck hickeys on your neck even when you beg him not to. He loves how he can hear you so perfectly, watching your face contort as you try and hide your cute noises. It’s perfect.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Yuta can be a bit humorous during sex, cracking a few smiles at you and sly comments. It just feels weird for him to be completely serious when with you, even if he’s mad or worked up. Yuta will never fail to pull a smile onto your face as he says something so sweet it nearly makes your teeth ache. He’s such a love bug, especially when he’s being intimate with you.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Yuta has a love-hate relationship with his hair down there. He likes to keep it short and neat but sometimes life gets away from him and his hair grows out more than he would like it to. You, for one, don’t care about his hair down there but Yuta can get a bit shy if you’re getting intimate and he hasn’t had time to clean up his groin lmao

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

If you couldn’t tell by his favorite position and his humor, Yuta is very romantic during sex. But romantic in a shy way when you’re first getting into things, as he lets loose, so do his words. You swear Yuta is telling you he loves you every time his hips connect with yours… it’s because he is. He’s nearly lovesick for you as he ruts his hips into you, doesn’t matter if he just saw you this morning, that man misses you and he will make sure you know it.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Yuta’s frequency can vary depending on his mood and work schedule. Before meeting you, he would get himself off once a week minimum. Most weeks he’d jerk off a healthy two-three times. Now, the only time he’ll jerk off is if he’s away from you for too long or if he really needs to do stuff and he can’t get it to go down on its own. Yuta also isn’t shy about using toys to get himself off – that means vibrators, pocket pussies, butt plugs oops-

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Master/Slave kink, I will not go into detail on this one I just… I just think he’d like it if you ordered him around and called him a good boy. He’s heavy on dom/sub but he’s easily a switch and enjoys being in either position. Yuta has a mild breeding kink, one that only comes out when he’s really upset… like if you get injured. I’d also say Yuta is into somnophilia because there have been times he returned from a mission and you’re already passed out but he’s worked up. You’ve discussed it before so it’s completely consensual and he finds it so cute when you start making noises in your sleep as he buries his fingers inside to prep you.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Yuta loves fucking you on just about any surface but he’s grown quite fond of bathtub sex. Something about the steam filling the room, the hot water, the intimacy of the moment, the urge to be careful in order to not make a mess of the room. There are so many factors that go into fucking in the bathtub that Yuta almost views it as a challenge, which is part of the enjoyment. Yuta is also an avid lover of car sex, for similar reasons to fucking in the bath, he likes the risks that come with it. He finds the possibilities of getting caught or trying not to make an absolute mess to be very fun… plus watching you try and keep quiet is amusing for him.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

He’s a sucker for non-sexual intimacy just as he’s a sucker for sexual intimacy. Yuta has absolutely popped a hard-on because you cuddled into him while sitting on the couch. He’s mildly embarrassed about the fact that some of the most innocent touches get him worked up, but he just can’t help how in love he is with you. Yuta is also very obsessed with lingerie, he’ll never expect you to wear it for him or always be wearing cute undergarments. But it’s a real treat for him when you decide to “dress up” in that sense. You may notice him being a tad more handsy with you when you tease him with a lacy waistband peeking above your pants.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Hateful, mean, spiteful sex. Anything along the lines of hooking up just to put someone in their place if that makes sense? He can certainly be rough, but it’s out of love and adoration for you. He’s never liked the idea of hook-ups or one night stands, he’s much more into emotions and really caring about someone when sleeping with them.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Yuta is all about your pleasure so it’s not surprising that he has a preference for giving oral. Not to say he doesn't love receiving it, he definitely adores it, but going down on you is almost like a guilty pleasure for him. He’ll go down on you to relieve his own stress, spending hours between your thighs until he is satisfied with how many times you’ve come. His skills came naturally, somehow knowing exactly what to do when he got down there. If you were his first? You’d never guess it, Yuta is very skilled with his tongue… something else that’ll make him blush if you mention it. He’s still shy somehow.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Yuta can and will adjust his pace to your liking, but naturally the man is pretty eager and can start off faster than intended. He learned over time that it is much more gratifying to work his way up to the rougher and faster paces, especially since you’ll start to whine and beg for him to go faster or be rougher. The way you plead with him drives him absolutely wild. When he’s sleepy, worn out from a day's work and still needs to satisfy his cravings of you, Yuta’s hips take a much more languid and sensual roll. He’ll press his lips to your ear so you can hear his breathing struggle as he whispers his love and adoration for you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Yeah but also no… he’s conflicted mostly because he can never keep a quickie… quick. Even car sex can span on for twenty minutes if he’s not mindful. He just gets so lost in you and your body, how is he supposed to speed things up when he feels he has all the time in the world?

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He’ll experiment with you for sure but he will shamelessly research what you want to try before even bringing it into the bedroom. He does this because he wants to make sure it’s safe and something he will also enjoy. But he also does this to make sure he does it properly for you, buys the right things, has the right idea on the concept. He wants you to enjoy it properly of course.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Bless you honestly, this man can go all fucking night and even past the sunrise if he really wants to. He’ll wear you out and make sure you need to call out of work the next day because he swears he’s not done with you yet. Yuta is an avid lover of marathon sex and he has the stamina to keep up with it. Usually he can go as long as ten minutes per round once he gets inside of you but he will not hold himself back from coming, so he’s not usually one to stick out the full ten minutes unless he’s just trying to tease you. He knows going longer can sometimes become painful.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Yuta loves toys, both on you and himself. He thinks they are incredibly fun to use in bed with you and just by himself. He’s not opposed to any toys really, he’ll buy/use whatever he feels like or whatever you express interest in wanting. Nothing is really off limits in that sense.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Yuta can tease you but he’s not really unfair. He’ll edge you unintentionally and make up for it seconds later. He’ll praise you until you’re squirming, roll his hips a little slower to hear you whine, but he’s never dragging on his teasing. He’d rather see you crying from pleasure than desperation cause he’s holding back.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Yuta. Whimpers. Yuta. Whines.

You can’t tell me anything different. Yuta will not restrain his noises… mostly because he’s incapable of doing so. He’ll moan and curse, babble on and on about how good you feel, thank you over and over for letting him have you. He’s learned to not be embarrassed by his noises because he realized how much they seem to turn you on. He takes it as a compliment now.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

One of Yuta’s biggest guilty pleasures is cock-warming. He loves being close to you, cuddling you tightly as you both try and sleep. So why not take it a step further and just… slip inside. His only issue is that he can never promise it’ll remain cock-warming. His hips or yours turn restless at some point and you’ll easily get carried away. But, on nights where you’re both able to control yourselves, Yuta will knock out within seconds of slipping inside of you.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

When soft, Yuta is sitting at 5.2 inches. Once hard, Yuta is 6.3 inches and curves upwards. He’s got a good girth to him, the kind that requires some getting used to but doesn’t hurt if he prepares you correctly. He’s got a pretty cock, which you’ve mentioned before just to see his face turn a shade of scarlet as you kept reassuring him that you meant it. He’s paler with a pretty flushed pink tip and some light veins running along his shaft.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Man he could fuck you every day of the week, all hours of the day, if he had the time. His sex drive is unbelievably high, this boy was touch starved and now he can’t get enough.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He will not fall asleep until he assures that you have been properly taken care of. Yuta also feels pretty energized after sex so he may not come right back to bed after he’s sure you’re comfy. Depending on the time of day, he’s actually gone for a run after or cleaned the house before accompanying you in bed again. You like to tease him and call him an overachiever for doing more cardio after all the cardio he just did. Typically though, if you fuck before bed, he’ll be asleep within thirty minutes or so.

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starkidmunson · 4 months

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glitter & crimson

It’s both exciting and terrifying to be in Chicago when they arrive Thursday afternoon. This is, unfortunately, very often as close to hometown shows as the band gets to these days. They have the night off, before the show tomorrow, when the band will find out if Steve and his friends actually show up to the gig or not. Despite not having a show, the band doesn’t get the whole day off; Paige had booked a few radio interviews before the gig to drum up attention.

He should have seen it coming when the radio host brought up the TikTok exchange. “So, be honest, have you guys coordinated with Harrington and his friends to get him to your show tomorrow?”

“Not really. Our manager sent info and Steve gave it a thumbs up, but that’s really been it? But we’ve been busy with shows almost every night, and he’s had a lot of travel games the last few days, so we’ll have to wait and see if he’s able to make it out.” Jeff takes over the answer with ease, probably having predicted the attention.

“Did you really not recognize him, Eddie?” The host goads and Eddie lets himself chuckle.

“It may sound kind of ridiculous, but the genuine answer is yeah. I haven’t seen him in, like, 6 years. And, believe it or not, we didn’t exactly run in the same crowds. We knew of one another, I think, but there were hundreds of kids in our school.” Eddie always defaults to the truth in interviews; it’s the simplest route and leaves less room for people to poke holes in the narrative if he’s just honest.

“Will you guys be going to the Blackhawks game on Saturday?”

“We’ll just have to wait and see, man,” Gareth laughs, and just as quickly as the segment started, it’s over with their own latest hit playing them out of the studio.

A Thursday night off in the city wasn’t the most exciting thing in the world, but the band collectively made a trip to the bar closest to their hotel for wings and a few drinks. One of the guys must have posted something on social media about being out because as Eddie’s walking into his hotel, he happens to check his TikTok to find a message waiting for him.

harrington94 should I take it personally that you guys went out in my town and didn’t ask for recs or anything?

eddiecc I honestly figured you’d be too busy and didn’t want to bother you.

harrington94 never too busy to show a friend around town. But I do appreciate having a down day, so thanks.

Eddie wasn’t entirely sure how to answer as he processed Steve’s message. Friends? Is that what they were? Could they even really consider one another that? He ultimately decided not to think too much of it, in favor of keeping the conversation going. Maybe the more they talked, the less awkward the next two nights would be.

eddiecc I totally get it if you want to skip the show in favor of another down day.

harrington94 no backing out on me now, Munson. I’ve finally got the cool card with the Party. We’ll be there, no doubt.

Eddie feels a little smile creep over his face and his ears feel a little warm, but before he can answer that, text bubbles pop up again. He waits to see what else Steve is going to say before he does something embarrassing.

harrington94 now feels like a safe time to confess that I haven’t really listened to much of your music, though, so don’t think I’m rude if I’m not headbanging along with the boys.

That was more like the interaction Eddie had expected from their TikTok exchange. He never expected Steve to know their music and was shocked he even knew their band name when his response had been posted on TikTok.

eddiecc I honestly cannot exactly say I’m surprised to hear this. You never exactly struck me as a headbanger, anyway.

harrington94 i feel like that’s some kind of thinly veiled insult that I’m missing, but you’re not wrong.

The text bubbles appear again, and Eddie waits for him to finish the thought rather than respond.

harrington94 why don’t you text me instead? It feels easier than paying attention to this app I don’t really know how to use.

Eddie was quick to copy the number Steve sent and shoot off a text, weirdly enjoying the exchange the two were having and not ready to call it a night just yet.

__________

A particularly ridiculous meme from Eddie had Steve snorting from his spot lounging across the sofa. The next thing he knew, a pillow was flying at his face. He was able to react quickly enough to block it with his arm, dropping the phone to his chest, before glaring at Robin. She was watching him from the recliner across the living room.

“What the fuck?” He asks, tossing the pillow back in her general direction, more gently than she’d tossed it his way.

“You’re grinning at your phone like you’re setting up a hot date. Please don’t tell me you’re talking to Heidi again.” Robin pleads dramatically, twisting her body in the chair to face him.

“I’m not grinning at my phone, shut up.” He grumbles, ignoring how hot his neck feels as he blushes. Instead, he picks his phone back up to finish the thought he’d been typing before he’d been interrupted. “I’m just texting with Eddie, that’s all.”

Robin’s eyes widened immediately, and she sprung from the recliner toward the sofa. “Give me your phone!” She demands, grunting as she fell face first into the sofa, missing Steve by an inch. He manuveres away from her without looking up from his phone, making his way down the hall to his room. “Steve, come on!”

“It’s not a big deal! We’re just talking! It’s fine!” He insists, tucking the phone into his back pocket as he turns into his bedroom.

But maybe it was a big deal? Steve couldn’t tell; this was the part he was never really good at. He had a tendency to miss signs everyone else thought were obvious, and he didn’t want to risk making things weird with Eddie if Robin thought he was missing something that wasn’t actually there. The texts with Eddie had shifted from Steve confessing his knowledge of Corroded Coffin was strictly limited to whatever the Party played in the car when he drove them places, to Eddie confessing he knew next to nothing about hockey. It seemed to level the playing field between the two of them, and at least made Steve feel more at ease about the time they’d be spending together between the concert and the game.

When Steve had asked how the tour was going so far, Eddie had shared a link to an instagram, where fans were finding something to meme from each night of the shows. To which Jeff and Gareth were making memes in response, picking on one another in a way that felt like with some of his teammates. The message that had prompted the most reaction from Steve was the last thing Eddie had sent before Robin threw the pillow; a meme of Eddie looking confused, which Jeff had edited “So he’s not Joe Jonas?” over his head.

In his room, Steve leans over to pick up his charger, but he feels his phone lift free from his pocket. “Hey!” He calls after Robin, who’s sprinting down the hallway, laughing like the menace she is.

“I just want to see what you’re talking about!” Robin says, unlocking his phone. He’s just about to catch up to her, as she slides on her socks into her bedroom, closing the door behind her, right in his face.

“You’re being a child, Robs, c’mon. Give me my phone back.” He sighs, resting his forehead against the door. He jiggles the handle, but as he’d guessed, she’d locked it behind her.

“Do you like him?” She asks through the door, and he sighs again.

“I don’t know,” He answers, honestly and exhaustedly. “I don’t even know him, you know? We weren’t friends, it’s not like I could tell you anything about him other than Tommy used to buy weed from him and he would stand on tables and yell in the cafeteria.”

There’s a long silence before Robin opens the door, meeting Steve with a little smile. She shoves the phone back into his chest and pats his hand when he takes it from her. “I think this could be good for you. That this could be good for you.”

“I’m trying not to read too hard into it.” Steve mumbles, reaching up to run his fingers through his hair nervously. He glances back down at the screen, to see what while Robin had taken the phone, Eddie had sent another text.

Eddie: How were your games? Are you doing anything special for your day off?

It makes something twist in his chest, that Eddie even cares, and he doesn’t quite know why. It must show on his face, some part of how he’s feeling, because Robin just smiles and nods. Maybe she knows how he feels, part of their weird unspoken telepathy, because she walks further into her room and pats the edge of her bed as she goes.

“Are you going to let me paint your nails for the concert?” She asks. Everything inside of Steve appreciates how she always knows when to give him space to try and figure his shit out on his own.

“Obviously.” He laughs softly, following her into the bedroom to sit on her bed and watch her move around collecting things to paint his nails.

~~~

The following day, Steve spends more time than he would like to admit picking out an outfit to wear to the concert. He can hear the Party starting to get antsy in the living room, even though they’d still be plenty early if they left right now, so he decides to just roll with the white shirt and fitted khakis he’d dressed himself in several hours ago before he started overthinking his choices. He finished the outfit off with a black zip-up fleece and black and white Nikes.

A final check of his hair had him walking out of his room and into the living room, where chaos erupted.

“It’s about time!” Dustin exclaims, practically bouncing up and down with excitement on the sofa.

“It took you that long to come out looking like that?” Mike asks, but Max just snorts and shoves his shoulder.

“Let’s just go.” Steve rolls his eyes, glancing over at Robin who jingles car keys she’s already holding, before leading the way out of the apartment.

In the car, he shoots Eddie a quick text to let him know they’re on the way. Eddie’s quick to reply, giving the message a thumbs-up reaction. Unbelievably, the Party somehow manages to get even louder than usual once they were inside, and it doesn’t take long for a security guard to find them. They’re led through the back tunnels of Wintrust Arena, and Steve gets a little nostalgic for playing hockey in college. He’s snapped out of it when a girl passes out their pass lanyards and gives each of the Party a voucher for free drinks and snacks.

“This is too much, really,” Steve protests as she hands him the voucher, but Paige insists with a kind smile.

“We get this kind of stuff from every venue and rarely get to use it to its full extent. The guys want to do this for you and your friends, just enjoy it.”

The Party loads up on treats at the nearest food station, while Steve and Robin grab beers with Paige. As she collects her drink, Paige hands Steve a palm-sized bag of earplugs. He frowns at them, which makes her laugh.

“Eddie said this isn't really your usual kind of scene, and these shows can get loud,” she taps her own ears to show she has similar earplugs in. “Should also help prevent headaches or anything else that might keep you off the ice tomorrow.”

“Please, he’s too stubborn to stay off the ice. The amount of migraines he’s played through is outrageous,” Dustin bounds back into the conversation, earning a chuckle from Robin. Steve throws his arm around the younger boy’s shoulders, pulling him just a little too close and too tight. Dustin exaggerates choking noises, flailing around and making a scene, but Steve refuses to let up.

_____

There’s more anxiety than usual thrumming through Eddie as he and Jeff make their way through the arena, to where Paige had said she’d take Steve and his friends for snacks. As they walk up on the group, however, Steve quickly pulls a younger boy with a head full of curls into a headlock. He lets the scene continue for a moment before he nudges Jeff.

“At what point fo you think we should intervene?” He asks with a smile, making Jeff chuckle. Steve, however, freezes, then shoves Dustin away. He turns to give Eddie a sheepish smile, and Eddie can’t help but raise an eyebrow.

Steve lets out a huff of a laugh, running his fingers through his hair, shrugging and tipping his head in the boy’s direction. “This is Dustin. He’s like my little brother. I’m allowed to pick on him when he’s being a shithead.” Dustin nudges his elbow into Steve’s gut, who’s quick to smack his arm in response. Before Eddie can stop himself, he’s twisting a curl around his finger and biting back a grin. He does, however, make a conscious effort to not chew on his hair. He knows he’d never hear the end of it, fawning over Steve Harrington after a whole 10 seconds.

Eddie offers a hand out to Dustin, hoping Jeff and Paige would let his little tells fly under the radar. Just this once, they seem to, as he greets the Party. “Hey man, I’m Eddie. Nice to meet you.”

“I know who you are, holy shit, man.” Dustin eventually fumbles through, shaking Eddie’s hand and grinning up at him.

Steve rattles off the introductions for each kid, like a proud mom, and Eddie greets each of them politely, but his eyes keep falling back on Steve. He catches his little smiles and the way he nudges different members of the Party, squeezes their shoulders, ruffles their hair. It’s gentle and sweet and it sends a warm feeling through Eddie’s chest. His smile softens as he watches their interactions. All too soon, Freak leans into the area they’ve gathered in and whistles.

“Shit, guys, we gotta go.” Jeff sighs, and Eddie pats his shoulder before he turns back to the group with a grin.

“Just hang with Paige and try not to get into too much trouble, we’ll get drinks after?” Eddie asks, looking at Steve, who smiles back and gives a little nod.

As Eddie runs to catch up with Jeff and Freak, he wonders exactly what he’s gotten himself into here.

____

It’s more fun than Steve expects, the concert. The excitement of watching the show from the suite quickly bores the Party, as they realize it’s the same as watching hockey games from a guest box. They eat their snacks and drink some through the openers, but during the break before Corroded Coffin, Lucas and Dustin drag Steve around to the side stage. Robin promises to stay with the others, and reminds Steve to wear the earplugs.

He’s grateful Paige had slipped them to him as they get beside the stage and he realizes just how loud the crowd is when the lights go down. From where they’re standing sidestage, he can see Eddie, Jeff, Gareth and Freak in a little huddle. They bounce around with their arms around each others backs, before yelling something Steve can’t quite make out. They’re handed their instruments by the crew. As they’re taking the stage, Eddie walks up in their direction and pokes his tongue out at them, before ripping into a guitar riff to make his entrance.

Despite himself, Steve finds his head bobbing along to the drum beat, and even sings along to the songs he recognizes. It’s hard to take his eyes off Eddie through the whole production. He’s a little ball of energy, bounding around from one end of the stage to the other, bantering with the other guys in the band and drawing the fans into his chaos during talking breaks. During a drum solo, Eddie climbs onto the front of the kit and holds his guitar up in the air over his head. Steve watches, mesmerized, as Eddie holds his gaze for a moment that feels like an eternity but is probably only a few seconds. Eddie winks at Steve, then, before he leaps back into yet another riff. It shouldn’t have had so much of an impact, but Steve finds it kind of takes his breath away.

It’s over before long, and Paige is quick to guide Steve and the boys back to the club box. He smiles as they walk behind Dustin and Lucas, gushing over how great the show was. Back in the box, Steve and Paige agree to meet across the street at Fatpour. He charms his way into using the upstairs as a private room with a signature to the manager and flashes a smile and wave to the few people downstairs who seem to have recognized him.

The band makes a loud entrance as the Party works their way through appetizers, and Eddie is quick to find his way to Steve. “You seemed to have enjoyed yourself, was it more fun than you expected?” He asks around a grin.

“I never said I wasn’t going to have a good time,” Steve defended through a smile, making Eddie laugh and Steve thinks that might be the best sound he’d heard all night, despite having just seen the concert. Eddie glances around then, locking eyes with a bartender to get their attention.

“What’s your poison?” Eddie asks in the most cliche way, wiggling his eyebrows a little, but Steve shakes his head.

“Strictly on water tonight. Gotta get up early tomorrow.” He says, and Eddie softens and nods. Once their drinks are in front of them, he holds his glass up to Steve in a mock toast.

“To making it the fuck out of Hawkins?”

“Cheers to that.” Steve laughs, clanking their glasses together and taking a sip.

“Any reason you stayed in the Midwest?” Eddie asks, before he can stop himself. “Sorry, you don’t have to… you don’t owe me an explanation.”

“Nah, it’s… a few reasons. Couldn’t go too far without them, and most of ‘em followed me here, anyway. And then the chips fell and I ended up on the Blackhawks and there’s kind of no other team I’d rather play for.” Steve explains, leaning a little closer to Eddie with a smile. “Speaking of; are you ready for the game?”

Eddie can’t help but grin back at Steve and laugh a little. “You know, I honestly have no idea what I’m getting in to here. All I remember from watching games on TV is that it’s violent.”

“Not always.” Steve defends quickly, before showing a slight mercy. “It’s cold in there, because of the ice. You’ll want to wear layers.”

“Layers. Noted.” Eddie stores the information away for tomorrow, suddenly concerned he hadn’t even thought about an outfit for the game before the conversation.

As they talk, Robin appears with a basket of cheese curds but pulls it away as Eddie reaches to take one.

“What’s your favorite movie?” She asks, and Steve laughs and shakes his head at her.

“Is this a quiz? I’m not good at tests, I flunked out of senior year.” Eddie whines before he stops to think about it. “Uh, well. The answer you’d probably expect from me is Almost Famous, but it’s actually a close second to Dead Poets Society.”

She narrows her eyes at him but slides the basket in his direction. “I can’t tell if you picked either of those because you thought it was the answer I wanted, or because they’re actually your favorite, so I have to give you curds.”

“They’re actually my favorites!” Eddie laughs around a mouthful of cheese curds.

“Dead Poets is one of Robin’s favorites, too.” Steve offers, and Robin nods.

“Steve will tell you his favorite movie is Risky Business, because he thinks Tom Cruise is hot, but it’s actually Go Figure. You know, the Disney movie about the ice skater who joins her school’s hockey—” Robin is grinning until Steve clasps a hand over her mouth.

“Robin is incredibly annoying when she wants to be,” He grumbles, and Eddie can’t help but laugh at their antics.

“Well, now you’ve got my attention. If Go Figure isn’t your favorite movie, what is?” Eddie asks.

Steve thinks for a moment. “I think Back to the Future feels like a safe answer.” He shrugs, and Eddie glances at Robin to gauge her reaction. She seems to approve, as she gives Steve a soft smile, pats his back, then stands from their table.

“I’ll leave you two alone, I suppose.” She says, leaning close to both of them. “Behave, got it? No funny business before the game.”

Steve flushes and flounders a little, his mouth opening and closing a few times before he just huffs and takes a sip from his water. While Eddie feels his whole face get hot in a blush, he can’t help but laugh a little.

“Is there funny business we could have gotten up to?” He dares to ask, and it’s worth it just to watch the way Steve blushes and bites at his lip.

“Maybe. But I guess you’ve got to wait until after tomorrow’s game to find out.”

________________________________________________________

Wow! Thank you all so much for the overwhelming support you’ve shown this little idea I had! I might just keep this going as a series, with updates on Mondays (Tuesdays at the latest). This is also double the word count of part 1, oops, lol.

I'm going to try to tag everyone in the replies because I hit the character limit! Tumblr wouldn't take them all, so sorry to everyone I missed, I still love you and appreciate the support!

#steddie #steddie hockey au #steddie rockstar au #rockstar!eddie munson #hockey player!steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington #robin buckley #dustin henderson #corroded coffin #stranger things #starkidmunson writes #glitter & crimson

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zeevawyte · 4 months

Text

Ok so, this is so far outside my usual stuff it’s insane, but this literally won't leave my brain and I don't know if I have time to write it so-

RadioApple fic idea under the cut:

TW: blood, mentions of cannibalism (it's Alastor, duh), semi-unsafe dom/sub (no actual sex), sub drops

Starts out your normal "stop interfering with my relationship with my daughter & you can have a snack whenever you want" kinda deal, with Alastor taking full advantage of the fact that he's got the most powerful being in hell at his mercy. Dude has a serious power trip the first time, & between that and the taste is hooked immediately.

And of course Luci isn't exactly complaining. Other than the occasional jumpscare via shadow, it hasn't been too bad. Kind of enjoyable actually, not that he'd ever admit that to the demon's face. And it's not like he hasn't been tied up or held down before either.

But then during one of their ‘meetings’ he ends up going into sub space on accident… and it keeps happening.

This wouldn't be a problem except Alastor (for obvious reasons) has literally zero information/knowledge about that sort of thing. And, being the dramatic asshole that he is, enjoys getting the last word and leaving without a backwards glance. Which means he's not there when Luci drops.

Hard.

But it's fine! He's fine! He's the King of Hell, he doesn't need some sinner to help him deal with the consequences of an arrangement he proposed in the first place. He's totally fine on his own.

Except he's not.

He is very much not fine, and it starts to show. It gets so bad that one day Charlie actually asks him if he’s ok mid-conversation.

Enter Angel Dust.

Now, by this point Angel’s like 98% sure the two powerhouses are going at it. Alastor has been in a good mood for months now (coinciding suspiciously with the two of them not being at each other’s throats all the time - at least in public) & he’s seen Luci coming out of a room straightening his coat and hat on one of the upper floors. Not to mention the down-right flirty undertones to any barbs they shoot back and forth.

Husk agrees that something is going on but heavily doubts it’s what Angel thinks.

Determined to prove that he’s right, Angel starts wandering the upper floors or heading up just as Alastor heads down (subtly, he’s not an idiot). Anyway, he’s up there one day being nosy when he hears a crash from one of the rooms. He goes in only to find Lucifer on the floor, having tripped over a side table and knocked over a lamp, disheveled and absolutely shaking.

He recognizes what’s happening almost immediately (fuck you very much Val) and gathers the little king up onto the couch, helping him calm down until he doesn’t look like he’s going to either spontaneously start sobbing or throw up on the rug.

Luci is understandably embarrassed and tries to offer him a favor for his help, but Angel waves him off saying he’s been there & that Luci doesn’t owe him anything.

The next day when Lucifer is off doing something else, Angel grabs Alastor and all but drags him into a side room.

“Look, I don’t know what’s going on between you and short king, and frankly it’s none’a my business-”

“No, it isn’t. And if that really is all you wanted to speak with me about-”

“Shut up! I’m not jokin’ alright? I’m bein’ 100% serious. You’re fucking up big time, and I’m pretty sure you don’t even know it. So if you don’t want this whole thing to end in a big fuckin’ mess you need to listen to me.”

Cue a hilariously awkward conversation where an unusually serious Angel explains dom/sub dynamics and the effects/consequences therein to an incredibly-uncomfortable-but-desperately-not-showing-it Alastor.

It ends with something along the lines of

"And look, I don't know if you actually care about the guy or if it’s just about gettin’ your kicks, but honestly? It doesn't matter. You've got your whole gentleman thing right? Openin' doors for the ladies and shit?" *pokes him in the chest* "Well as a gentleman, you've dropped the fuckin' ball. Only self-centered dicks leave their sub to drop alone."

Now if there’s one thing Alastor will not abide, it’s a loss of manners. Being told he’s been unknowingly committing a social faux pas gets under his skin immediately. It itches at him. To the point that his smile almost slips. More than once.

He needs to fix it. As soon as possible.

He’s visibly twitchy the rest of the day.

Husk corners Angel to ask what the hell he said to Al, but only gets a vague, noncommittal answer about letting him know about some information he was missing.

And the next time he and Lucifer have a ‘meeting,’ Alastor stays.

#radioapple #hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #alastor #fanfic #fic ideas #had to get this OUT OF MY BRAIN #so here #have a thing

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luxaofhesperides · 3 months

Note

I'm not sure if you're still taking Ghostlights requests, but if you are: Dick asking Duke to take Haley to the dog park for him in order to set up a meet-cute for him with the guy with the weird green rottweiler

And if you aren't, just know that you're doing great and I appreciate the hell out of you

“Oh, shoot!”

Hearing Dick rush around as a frantic mess is not uncommon while he’s in Gotham. There’s too many people wanting to spend time with him that he ends up pulled in a bunch of different directions. Dick’s always in a rush, always busy, always making time for people because he has more love than Duke has ever seen in a person.

Dick’s also got pretty good time management skills after years of doing this. He’s only cutting out a few minutes early for their designated three hour catch-up session.

That doesn’t mean he’s going to do it gracefully, though.

“Almost lost track of the time!” he says, moving to the couch to pick up his jacket. “Hey, Duke, can do you me a favor while I’m out?”

“Sure, what is it?”

“Can you take Haley to the dog park? I usually take her twice a week around this time, but I totally forgot to include that in my calendar this week so I’ve got plans with the Titans just outside the city, and no time to take her out.”

“Yeah, man, of course I can take her to the dog park. The one attached to Robinson Park, right?”

Dick nods, shoving his shoes onto his feet. “That’s the one! Her treats are also in the bag hanging next to her leash. Oh, and she has a friend at the dog park! Don’t be scared when you see him, he’s just green.”

“Oh…kay?”

“Great, thanks! Bye, Duke, I’ll see you later!”

And with that, Dick is gone, closing the door to his safehouse as he dashes into the hall.

Duke is left alone in Dick’s Gotham safehouse, blinking dazedly at the empty space where he once was. He’s certainly a whirlwind of activity when he realizes he’s going to be late. He’s also skilled in just saying things and leaving before any questions can be answered.

Haly jumps up onto the couch next to Duke. They share a look, then Duke shakes his head. “You have to deal with that every day, huh?”

Haly, the good girl that she is, doesn’t say anything bad against her owner and just puts a paw on Duke’s thigh, her tail wagging.

“I hear ya, girl. Let’s go to the dog park to meet your green friend, I guess.”

He has no idea what that means, honestly. Is Dick just talking about a dog that got its fur dyed green? Or is Haly’s friend like… a mutant dog?

Well, he’s not going to find out by stalling.

Duke pets Haly, then stands up and walks to the door. Her head perks up as soon as she hears the jangle of her leash being moved, and then she’s running to the door, looking up at him expectantly. Smiling, Duke slips the harness onto her, then attached it to the leash. He gives her another quick pet before shoving on his shoes and grabbing her bag of treats and waste disposal bags.

He double checks that he has his phone, then takes hold of Dick’s spare safehouse key and steps out into the hallway with Haly. She waits patiently as he locks the door, checks that the lock holds, then runs down the hallway, ripping the leash right out of his hands.

“Haly! Wait! Stop, girl!”

She happily ignores him and goes straight for the elevator, leaving him to run after her and quickly scoop up the leash as soon as he’s close enough.

“Of course you’re a little escape artists,” he says to her, “Just like your owner.”

Haly woofs softly, then stands up and scratches at the doors of the elevator. Shaking his head, amused, Duke pushes the button to call the elevator and wonders if Dick has to deal with this every time they go to the dog park.

On one hand, it wouldn’t surprise him since Dick is absolutely the kind of guy to give in to his dog’s every whims and spoil her rotten. On the other hand, Duke fully believes that Haly is smart enough and cute enough to misbehave only when Dick isn’t around so he never believes people when they try to tell him about all the mischief she’s caused.

Dogs and their owners really do reflect one another. The internet was right about that.

Duke makes sure to keep a tight grip on Haly’s leash once they leave the apartment building. The streets are busy, as they tend to be on weekends, and the sight of Haly straining against her leash, ready to run, brings a smile to more than one face.

He plots the route to the dog park in his mind, then starts up a light jog, tugging lightly on the leash to prompt Haly to follow him.

It’s nice to run just for the sake of it. Haly makes a good running partner as well.

How long has it been since Duke had time to relax and not be prepared for the worst? All the running he usually does these days is to catch up with criminals or run for his life. Being out during the day, moving through the city, without any lives in danger? Genuinely nice and relaxing.

Maybe he can offer to take Haly to the dog park from now on. Join Dick whenever he goes. Create a set few hours where he doesn’t do anything but enjoy being outside in one of the few places where the smog of pollution and chemical toxins isn’t so thick in the air.

He’ll just have to make sure Dick doesn’t agree to something else during those days. It’s still strange to think that Dick could forget to do something involving Haly when he’s such a good dog owner and a pro at juggling various responsibilities and a busy schedule.

Well, they all have off days. This must be one of Dick’s.

The sidewalks get wider once they reach the street that leads to the park. Families fill up the space, walking with strollers in front of them or lined up at a food cart. The vivid green of spring fills the grassy fields that lead to the large patches of trees, marking the edge of Poison Ivy’s territory. Clovers decorate the ground, bees moving from flower to flower.

There are other dogs on walks as well, making circuits around the park or running after toys. Duke spots a cat in a walking harness as well and wonders if he can convince Damian to get one for Alfred the cat.

The dog park is on the other end of the park, as far away from Ivy’s territory as possible. The fenced off areas are separated into big dogs and small dogs, with a helpful guide as to which dogs go where posted at the entrance.

Duke slows to a walk, breathing deeply to help settle his heart rate back down to something normal. Haly walks by his side, tail wagging, as she watches the other dogs run back and forth behind the fence.

She’s still small, just growing out of puppy size, so Duke leads her into the small dog area, carefully making sure the gate doesn’t open enough for any quick dogs to make a break for it. He walks over to a bench and sits down before undoing the harness on her, setting her loose.

Haly licks his hand once, then darts away, barking lightly as she joins the other dogs tumbling around each other.

Amused, Duke leans back at watches as the other dogs sniff her, then do their funny little bowing stomps, moving back and forth before running off so she can give chase.

He figures staying for an hour will be good enough. That should get the most of her energy out, and then they can make the long trek back to Dick’s safehouse so he can pick her up before he heads back to Bludhaven. Pulling out his phone, Duke settles in to wait, keeping half his attention on Haly just in case any of the other dogs decide to get a little too rough.

The first twenty minutes pass peacefully. Haly runs around and the owners of the other dogs give her pets when she runs up to them. One even went over to Duke to offer him a pack of fruit gummies.

Then a loud bark fills the air and Duke jerks upright, watching with wide eyes as a colossally large dog, green and glowing and slightly transparent, comes barrelling down the street, headed right towards them.

He doesn’t have time to yell Haly’s name before the dog is in the fence. None of the other dog owners look alarmed, though, so he watches carefully, prepared to jump up and save Haly at a moment’s notice.

“Cujo!” someone yells from down the street. A guy with dark hair comes running up and smoothly jumps over the fence. “Cujo, how many times do I have to tell you not to run off like that?”

The green dog, apparently Cujo, barks happily.

“And you’re too big for this park right now, buddy. Shrink, boy. It’s time to be small.”

And then Cujo… obeys? The dog shrinks, and instead of being the size of a bus, it’s now small enough to be carried in someone’s arms.

Green dog is not enough warning for all of that. Dick owes him so much for this.

Actually, he’s kind of shocked that Dick never mentioned this to anyone. Surely a giant green dog would get people’s attention. Why is this the first time he’s heard about it?

“You new around here?” someone asks, and Duke turns to see the person who gave him the fruit gummies.

“Kinda? It’s my first time coming to the dog park. I’m looking after Haly, that one right over there.” He points out Haly, who is running in circles around Cujo.

“Ah, I see. Dick mentioned someone new would be coming today.”

Duke narrows his eyes. He’s starting to get the feeling that he’s been set up for something, but he’s not sure what.

“I’ll give you the spiel we tell all newcomers, in that case,” they continue. “Cujo is a ghost dog. Poor thing died during some animal testing, far as we know. Danny looks after him, since Cujo got attached to the kid years ago before he moved to Gotham. He’s a kind one, but very nervous, and we’ve all got an agreement to keep quiet about him and Cujo round this parts. You better be holding your tongue, as well, ya hear me?”

“Sure thing,” Duke nods. “My lips are sealed.”

He’ll just ask Dick about the ghost dog situation and do his own investigation if needed. But Cujo is just a dog, and his owner is just a guy. Nothing threatening, nothing requiring a Bat’s attention.

“Good,” they nod. “I’ll get out of your hair now.” They’re gone before Duke can reply, adjusting the hat on their head as they head back to their group in the back left corner of the dog park.

Satisfied that things are under control, Duke relaxes back into the bench, watching Haly and Cujo tumble around with the other dogs, barking happily. Haly’s still growing into her paws, so she trips and falls often, but gets up without a moments pause, ready to keep playing.

From the corner of his eyes, Duke catches sight of someone walking towards him.

He looks over and finds Cujo’s owner—Danny, wasn’t it?—approaching. Their eyes meet, and Danny offers him a sheepish smile and a wave. His eyes are a dark blue that seem to glow with some otherworldly light, and Duke can swear he sees something shifting around him, as if the air has turned visible and twists around his body like wisps of smoke.

“Mind if I sit with you?” Danny asks, and Duke moves to the side a bit.

“Go ahead,” he says.

“You’re Duke, right? Dick told me about you last week.”

It’s looking more and more like Dick is up to something, and Duke will need to get his revenge. “Did he? All good things, I hope.”

“Aha, yeah, all good things. Um, actually I think I should apologize? I maybe said you sounded like my type so Dick promised that he’d get you here somehow. Sorry if this is messing up your plans for the day.”

Oh. Oh!

Well. That’s interesting.

Duke quietly shelves his plans for revenge against Dick and takes a proper look at Danny. He’s shy, but with a bright smile, glowing eyes and strange smoke curling around him still, and messy black hair windswept from chasing after Cujo. There’s a flush in his cheeks and his long fingers fiddle with the string of his dark red hoodie.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t have any plans today. This is way better than just sleeping all day.”

“Well, I don’t know about that,” Danny laughs, “There’s nothing I like more than being able to sleep all day. That would fix me for sure.”

There’s a loud bark, and Danny’s eyes snap back to Cujo, who is growing bigger. “Cujo!” Danny yells, voice sharp. “Shrink down, or we go home.”

Cujo grumbles, whines, then goes back to being little. The green dog only has a moment to look sad before Haly is tackling him, sending them back into another chase around the park.

“Sorry about that,” Danny says, slouching against the bench.

“It’s all good,” Duke replies. “So. I’m your type, huh?”

Danny’s cheeks turn a deep, charming red. He looks away, then nods and ducks his head down.

“And that hasn’t changed after meeting me?”

Danny shakes his head, then peeks over at Duke, gaze slowly moving up his body until he meets Duke’s eyes. “Definitely hasn’t changed,” he says.

Now it’s Duke’s turn to feel his cheeks burn, flustered and pleasantly surprised by Danny’s boldness. It doesn’t help that Danny is cute, someone he can see himself falling for.

“Good,” he says, then knocks his knee against Danny’s. “I wouldn’t mind getting to know you more. On one condition.”

“Oh? And what would that be?”

“Tell me what Dick told you about me. I wanna make sure he wasn’t sharing an embarrassing stories about me. If I’m gonna make a fool of myself, then I’ll do it myself with no outside help.”

Danny’s laugh is bright and warm and sends butterflies dancing in Duke’s stomach. “Fair enough!” he says. “And you know what? I’ll trade you for embarrassing stories. Trust me, I have so many. Nothing you’ve done can be worse that the dumb shit I do on a regular basis.”

“Woah, woah, woah, confident, aren’t we? Don’t say that until you’ve heard about some of the stupid situation I choose to throw myself into.”

“Please, I’m an younger brother. If anyone knows how to be stupid, it’s me.”

“I’m part of the disaster that is the Wayne family. I think that has you beat.”

“My parents are mad scientists and my dog is a ghost. Try again.” The teasing smile on Danny’s lips makes him want to be reckless, to keep pushing, to go down this path as far as he can. Duke can’t remember the last time he clicked with someone so instantly, to be so comfortable with them so soon.

Damn. He’s gonna have to thank Dick for this, isn’t he?

As if on cue, his phone buzzes in his pocket. Duke pulls it out with an apologetic smile to Danny, who leans back a bit to give him some privacy.

The text that pops up is from Dick. It’s a photo of him and Danny from the side, heads bent close together as they talk with bright smiles. He can just make out the wild red curls of Kori’s hair.

“I’m gonna put jello in his socks,” Duke says cheerfully, already looking around to find where Dick is hiding.

He probably already moved locations, the ass.

“What’s up?”

He holds out his phone so Danny can see the screen. Danny stares at it, then looks around, then stares at the screen again.

“...Is he watching us?”

“Yep.”

“...Should we do something about it?”

Duke shrugs. “I mean, I’m up for hunting him down and tackling him if you are.”

“I can do you one better,” Danny says with a sharp grin. He whistles, and Cujo comes running over, Haly at his heels, and he skids to a stop to sit before Danny. “Cujo. You remember Dick?” Cujo barks, as if answering. “Fetch! Go fetch Dick!”

Cujo jumps to his feet, grows from the size of a pug to a bear, and takes off for the art instillation farther into Robinson Park. Moments later, they hear a yell followed by loud laughter, and Cujo and running back, Dick hanging from his mouth, with Kori, Donna, and Roy following after him at a leisurely stroll.

“I think we’re gonna get along great,” Duke says. “He’s gonna wish he never set us up.”

“That’s the way to do it,” Danny agrees.

“Say, wanna grab lunch together tomorrow?”

Danny blinks, then blushes again. “What, like a date?”

“Yeah, as a date. You up for it?”

“How could I say no? I was promised embarrassing stories.”

He watches as Cujo drops a rumpled looking Dick to the ground, half his shirt soaked with saliva. He dramatically mimes being shot in the heart when he sees them both looking at him, and goes limp when Kori picks him up and tries to set him on his feet.

Then he tries to act very calm and cool as Danny leans against him. “Think he’s gonna follow up on our date?” Danny asks in a low voice.

Duke closes his eyes and tries not to despair. He didn’t even think of that. “Worse. He’s going to tell everyone else, then we’ll have every available Wayne kid stalking us on our date.”

“Guess I’ll have to rely on you to chase them off, huh?”

“Or we can sic Cujo on them again.”

“Or that,” Danny nods. “It’s always effective.”

He’s really going to have to bring his best to the date tomorrow, just to stay a step ahead of everyone else. Maybe he’ll ask Barbara for a favor and get her to lead them off? And if Bruce gets involved, then Duke is fully prepared to flashbang him, grab Danny, and run.

It’s going to be a disaster.

It’s going to be fun.

He’s already looking forward to it, and from the mischievous smile on Danny’s face, he’s not the only one.

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #prompt fill #my writing #dick is so great i love him sooo much. most amazing loser guy ever <3 #him befriending danny at the park bc hes investigating the guy with the green superpowered dog thats making everyone nervous #only to find that danny's a sweet kid whos stressed out and doing his best and cujo is a ghost dog who died years ago and only wants to pla #really tugs at his heartstrings and dick from then on is one of dannys closest friends #the other dog park regulars slowly get used to danny and start talking to him too after dick does and also grow super protective #dannys got a whole squad ready to protect him if duke doesnt treat him right lol #waynes vs dog park regulars: FIGHT #jk they just give very mild shovel talks that are mostly 'treat him right hes had a rough life and deserves love and happiness. or else'#thanks for the prompt!!

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moonstruckme · 4 months

Note

I've never requested before so I'm quite nervous but may I request something with a reader thats like usually very chatty when coming home from work but maybe someone at their job said something rude or they just feel to tired to talk? preferably with poly!marauders but i dont mind any characters, i love your writing and i hope you have a wonderful day :] no pressure to write this ofc

Thank you for requesting lovely and hope you have a wonderful day as well! <3

Eddie Munson x fem!reader ♡ 677 words

Eddie’s van is idling at the curb when your shift ends. He grins as you get in, swapping his cherry coke to the hand already holding his cigarette to wrap the one closest to you around your thigh. It’s a favored spot. You’re always thinking you ought to trace an outline of his fingers and get it tattooed with “Eddie’s place” inside as a lark, but he’d definitely enjoy it way too much.

“Hey there,” he drawls, voice saccharine sweet and expectant as he leans across the console toward you. You peck him on the lips.

“Hi,” you say back. “You taste like cherries.”

His grin is crooked, goofy in that unabashedly lovesick way that makes your heart stutter. He holds up his cherry coke like he’s making a toast. “T’was the point. You want a sip?”

“Yes, please.” You take it from him, letting the cool fizziness wash over your sandpaper tongue. You’ve been craving a drink since halfway through your shift, when you’re fairly sure you’d willed all the water out of your body so you wouldn’t cry in the break room. Poor forethought.

The syrupy sweetness is comforting, familiar like Eddie and summer days and the lake. It makes you feel a bit more normal. You have to stop yourself from gulping it all down, dropping it in the cup coaster as Eddie stubs out his cigarette and puts the van into gear.

It takes until the first stoplight for you to realize he’s not headed towards home. “Where’re we going?” you ask.

“To the arcade. We’re meeting Dustin and them there, remember?”

“Oh. Right.” You’d totally forgotten. At least Robin should be there.

Eddie gives you a sidelong glance. “Work was good?”

If you’re being honest with yourself, about 70% of it was totally fine. “Mhm.”

He hums back at you, short and low. “Okay. What’s wrong?”

“Hm?” you hum again, unable to help it. “Nothing, why?”

“Don’t play dumb.” He squeezes your thigh meanly, metal rings biting into your skin. “You always want to gossip after work. Something happened, yeah?”

You toy with your bottom lip, looking out the window. You’re quiet long enough that Eddie gives your leg another warning squeeze.

“Talk.”

“It wasn’t really anything,” you say, honestly but forcing a bit more offhandedness into your tone than maybe you really feel. “A customer got all pissy with me because he thought something should be on sale and it wasn’t, but I’m not, like, still sad about it.”

Eddie doesn’t take his eyes from the road, but his lips purse unhappily. “But you were, huh?”

“I was,” you allow. “But I’m not anymore. I guess it just tired me out.”

He glances your way, as if to be sure you’re telling the truth, and hums. “M’sorry, baby. Still down for the arcade, or do you just wanna go home?”

“No, I’m good.” You wrap your hand around his forearm, running a path from his wrist to the crook of his elbow and back again. “I wanna see Robin. I can rally.”

Eddie nods contemplatively. The steady rumbling of the van is the only sound for a few seconds, and then he says, “On a scale of one to ten, where are you right now?”

You think about it for a few moments. “A four,” you decide.

He nods again. “Okay. By the time we leave the arcade, we’re gonna have you at a six.”

You grin at him. It’s already easier. Eddie sees out of the corner of his eye, quirking a brow like you’re being a dork but then slipping his hand from your thigh to intertwine your fingers from his. He brings the back of your hand to his mouth, kissing it wetly. You know he's content to sit in silence as long as you need, but you have one more thing to say.

“I feel like finishing off your coke would bring me up to a solid four-point-five,” you suggest hopefully.

Eddie rolls his eyes, but the corner of his mouth kicks up. “It’s all yours, sweet thing.”

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tiyoin · 2 months

Note

Twisted anxiety reader in a singing contest show (MHAHAMHAHAH) It would be a reason why she was singing in the woods.

✨ imagine✨

MC is feeling useless and unhelpful and just wants to pull their weight in supporting the dorm and stuff. Just overall trying to be more useful to Yuu.

So she overhears smth about a anonymous singing contest and the winner will get $5000 which for mc, Yuu and Grimm that's a lot of money. And 2nd and 3rd also has cash prizes. I think she goes for 2nd place ,so she has the money of 1st without the popularity of 1st. So she puts her fears to the side (🤨no she doesn't) to help her friend and cat.

I see this contest being an online voting type thing. Also celebs 😉 do go on the show to help promote it, to judge them and what ever else they do.

In the show they give the contestants a "wish"/ charm that can help them with their performance (enter ✨shimmers✨ & instruments magic that was talked about). It what makes the show popular

Now we give MC song/writing abilities. She honestly has a diary of kind. She needs it.( Torture her bout it later😈)

Now I'm sure we wondering how does this come into play

THEY THINK THE SONGS ARE ABOUT THEM

They'll all find a way to connect the songs to themselves. If songs says an eye color or hair color the characters with said color goes crazy about it.

Enchanted by Taylor Swift is one that comes to mind as a song that everyone relates to.

Rook/ jade would send clips of MC singing on the show and "THIS IS THE VOICE I HEARD"

I have so many sub-plots for twisted singer reader.

Also I'm really glad to like hearing things like this. I was really nervous to send the asks.

More to come along at one point or another ☺️☺️

i immediately thought of “ivory skin and eyes of emerald green” from jolene and rook just going:

shout out to @/a-twistedheartslonging because i WILL NOT stop using this cute little rook meme they made fldkaldkakwkdkxkakdkfhx

OH MY GOD READER IS SO NERVY AND SCARED AND THINKING SOOO MUCH ABOUT THIS SINGING COMPETITION AHHHHH

they’re physically reacting to thinking about it. they’re nervous tics come out (that happens to me, whenever i’m suppppper nervous i start chanting and get anxiety induced tics) and yuu and grim are getting worried because nothing has happened, so why are you so anxious?

OH MY GOD HAHSHSHAH IMAGINE THE WHOLE CONTEST IS FILLED WITH INTROVERTS HAHDHAHAHAH they all get to suffer at our expense

MUWHAHAHAHSHZHHAH AHHHAHAHA AHAHAHAHAH😈😈😈

*clears throat* anyways 🙂

reader : *sings enchanted*

ALL of the guys she made eye contact with that week: …so you’re proposing?

OH MY GOD MAYBE ROOK AND JADE (for totally separate reasons) SEND IN A CLIP THEY TOOK OF Y/N SINGING AND SENDING IT TO THE SHOW BAHAHSHAHA

idk maybe there’s some super duper advanced magical technology (marvel’s equivalent of ‘quantum’) and y/n gets an invitation and they’re like????

I DIDNT EVEN DO ANYTHING YET

THE CELEBRITY ENDORSEMENT IS SOOO REAL-

ROOK BRINGING VIL TO THE FOREST WHOSE GRUMBLING ABOUT HOW HE HAS HOMEWORK AND HOW THIS’LL THROW HIS SCHEDULE OFF-

“non non! roi du poison you must come with me avec hâte!” (with haste)

and they’re crouched behind a rock for a few minutes and vil is annoyed because rook is doing rook things again and he does not have time for this. especially not today because he has to find someone to endorse for the music show he volunteered to judge.

only problem: EVERYONE SUCKS OR HAS AN UGLY PERSONALITY!! vil is disgusted by the cockiness and the greediness of these… influencers who paid their way to be on the show.

it puts a horrible taste in his mouth, especially with how shameless they are to try and win his favor. he’s not some cheap executive they can bribe to put their foot through the door, especially with their lack luster… abilities.

vil almost called it talent, but you had to be good to have that.

just as he’s about to voice his complaints and leave, rook’s grip on his shoulder stopped him from moving and the finger to his lips stopped him from breathing. vil was visibly shocked because rook never put hands on him, especially like this.

there was a snap of a twig up ahead. rook’s forest green eyes flicked to the horizon a few times, head too, urging him to look.

and he’s more than pleasantly surprised to see… you- well as much of yourself that you would allow the watchful eyes of the trees see. your ceremonial robe covering your short stature.

rook looked at vil expectingly, but vil was still confused, so what if a student was in the woods? unless it was his own this was a problem rook should bring up to the other house wardens. and it wasn’t illegal, nor against the school rules so-

then, you started singing.

he couldn’t recognize the song. but he could recognize the passion. yes you were untrained and flat in a few sections but that didn’t matter. you were good, pitchy but good.

song after song, sometimes repeating a few as you danced and bowed your heart away.

he wasn’t sure how much time passed but it was a considerable amount since the sun that once well over the trees now peeked through the canopy and was gazing longingly at the moon.

cursing, you looked around, bent down to collect the things you brought with you, and scurried away towards another entrance towards the forest.

vil was quick to react, to follow but rook stopped him. looking down at his vice house warden with an incredulous look, rook only shook his head softly. there was a reason you were alone in the woods and not in the various music clubs.

this was your little secret.

vil who WAITS for your submission so he can back you but you never submit… hm,

with a snap of his manicured fingers, rook is on it! maybe rook knows who you are, maybe he doesn’t, vil could really care less since the whole show is based off of anonymity.

(vil side eyes the influencers and other contestants who practically spell it out for the audience who they are so they can vote for them)

maybe to… put you on the right track vil has rook go to your little forest spot and place a flyer there, practically ENCOURAGING YOU TO SIGN. UP.

you think someone would get a hint right?

“huh, that’s weird… maybe i should change locations since someone else was here”

that’s it. rook’s sending in your video and you’re getting a flyer stapled to the tree saying you’re accepted. yes yes this is because of your fairy god mother’s NOW SING

vil also giving y/n some song recommendations he thinks that are good, up until he sees you gently pull out a FUCKING LOADED BOOK from your backpack filled with songs.

yes darling those are great but lol at all the nice songs he gave you! they’re in your range too!!

vil slowly finding out who you are because he heard you hum a song in the hallways that only the mysterious ‘forest nymph’ (what a ludicrous myth the students came up with) sang.

and yes he’s shocked that the ramshackle neet (ouch vil 😿) has golden pipes.

THE CHAT ROOM IS NOW INVITE ONLY TO THE PEOPLE WHO HAVE HEARD THE ELUSIVE FOREST NYMPHS SONG!!! (i’ll cook smthn better i promise)

VIL THINKING WHAT TO SEND THEM TO HELP THEM IN A CUT THORAT BATTLE ROUND AND ROOK OFF HANDEDLY COMMENTING ‘if only there were an orchestra here to play along with their beautiful singing’

ERUKIA!!

*cue golden instruments*

but in hindsight sight:

we’re gonna give her so much anxiety she’s not gonna know what to do😈 sorry pookie!! there’s no safe space at night raven college☺️🫶

#so many thought & yet so little space 😔#just know that i’m right here- patiently waiting in the wings for your next ask so i can info dump some more ☺️#i don’t want this to get too long but #sorry for the long post babes🙈#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #tiyoin’s cuties 。　 ඞ 。#VIL THINKING OF WHAT TO

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eddiessluttywaist · 1 year

Text

as if (part 3)

AGELESS/BLANK/UNDER 18 BLOGS ARE NOT WELCOME TO INTERACT. PLEASE RESPECT MY RULES AND BOUNDARIES

summary: reader isn’t keen to playing the usual games between her and eddie after how she felt sunday night, and eddie can’t stand losing her attention. PICK WHAT ENDING YOU WANT AFTER.

pairing: bully!mean!perv!eddie munson x perv!fem reader

word count: 8,704 words (9,272 total words with the fluffy ending, 9,516 total words with the angsty ending)

content/warnings: swearing, SMUT MDNI (y/n is 18), bully!eddie, mean!eddie, perv!eddie, bully kink (?), dominating, breeding kink, mocking, teasing, biting, dacryphilia, groping, pet names (doll face, princess), degradation, some embarrassment, yearning, menophilia, angst :(((, feelings :(((, fluff(what? who said that?). i think that’s all pls tell me if i miss anything!

a/n: thank you for all the love :( i’m truly so surprised and grateful and just super flattered so thank you!! i hope i didn’t fuck this up by giving it crap endings sobs. i saw some were interested in a bit of a better look into eddie’s thoughts/feelings so i hope those lil parts are good! i’m considering the occasional blurb in the future about them tho so 👀 OH ALSO!! the past week or so tumblr had a bug on their app that cut off the ends of my posts >:( so I’d appreciate it if you could look back to double check you caught the full ending so you get the proper experience! okay i’m shutting up now!

part one - part two

You weren’t as responsive to his teasing that Monday…or, well… just about the rest of the school week so far, for that matter. You blamed your mood drop on his indifference, and the cramping that you assumed was only from this weekend. You had been sure it was just your cervix making its opinions on Eddie known, but then—after your second sugar pill of the week—you got your period Wednesday night. This culprit seemingly just as likely for that aching in your lower abdomen and back. It was welcome evidence that your birth control was working, but the appreciation for its presence didn’t last long with all the cramping and the bleeding. You hated getting your period, no matter how many older women reminded you of your “connection to Mother Nature” and “the beauty of the womb.” It’s messy and painful and almost always broke out your face.

So no you aren’t playing Eddie’s usual games—instead going silent on him or answering in an empty murmur. Part of you worries it’s going to all build up to one particularly heinous act, but he surprisingly didn’t get worse. He only bothered you with the same old stuff more frequently. By Thursday he’s pestering you constantly with his teasing, and his grabbing, and honestly? Just about every trick in his sick little book which were usually tastefully sprinkled throughout the week.

“So you’re not talking to me? Playing hard to get or somethin’?” He whispers from behind you in the lunch line. You grab a saran-wrapped cookie and put it on your tray.

“What? You on your rag or something?” Eddie scoffs in response to your ever freezing cold shoulder. He’s out in the tundra these past couple of days. You make a face and continue moving through the line.

“Come on… don’t fuck me and forget me, babe. You’ll break this ol’ cynic’s heart and I’ll never recover.” He teases with a wide smile, hand placed over his heart before it drops to settle on the small of your back and gradually travel down to cup your ass. He’s pleasantly surprised that you’re not gently nudging him away like you had the last time he attempted his usual lunchtime groping, but something feels different. He glances down as he flips up your skirt only to reveal small shorts in the same pattern of your dark, plaid skirt. Your worst nightmare is bleeding through a light-colored pair of pants or skirt, so you always wear darker clothes on your period, and you trade skirts for skorts in favor of the added coverage.

“What the fuck is this shit?” He scowls, tugging at one leg of the shorts.

“It’s called a skort. We’ve had this conversation before.” You sigh, thanking the lunch lady as she hands you your tray and eyes the metalhead trailing behind you.

She thinks he resembles an abandoned puppy who grew mean and practiced his bite and his bark just to follow after you with his tail between his legs. If she had any genuine interest in connecting with the student body she fed 5 days out of the week, she might’ve made a playful joke about you having him whipped. But she didn’t care that much.

“I don’t think we have.” He grins, wondering if you even noticed you let yourself talk to him.

“You do it every time I’m on-“ You catch yourself almost admitting you were on your period, which would certainly only pull new harassment from him, so you pretend to correct a simple mistake. “In. Every time I’m in a skort.”

He hums disapprovingly.

“Yeah, well… I…” He trails off as you simply walk away from him to your usual spot in the cafeteria. You don’t bother to stay at his table you two reached just for him to finish making some crude joke before ultimately shooing you away anyway. “Okay… or be a bitch.”

He grumbles that last bit, landing into his usual spot at the head of the table. A few of the other Hellfire members are still staring even when he clearly takes notice.

“Can I help you?” He snaps, everyone who had been staring immediately looking down at their food. He huffs, adjusting his position in the chair to get more comfortable and lets his gaze move over to your table. You’re sat so pretty it’s like your image could actually advertise such a crappy plastic chair. The way your ankles are crossed underneath you, book cracked open on the table with all of your attention on it as you sat with your body leaned into the table. Your food was hardly touched due to a pang of nausea that he was completely unaware of.

“You know if you like her maybe you shouldn’t pick on her so much.”

Eddie grimaces at the comment that’s—in his opinion—beyond a disregard for his rank at this table, icy glare on the curly haired freshman. There are panicked faces and soft muttering around the table showing he isn’t the only one taken aback by this.

“I…” the boy falters, putting the spoonful of pudding he’s about to eat back down. “I just mean if… if you like her. I dunno… you’re kinda mean to her, Eddie.”

He eats his scoop of pudding now, his bold words inspiring the wiry one that always sits next to him. Eddie’s burning glance flits over to him now that he’s speaking, his expression remaining unimpressed with etches of frustration in the shadows of his facial features.

“Yeah, which is actually totally weird cause you’re not like that at all.” The brunet speaks in a rapid ramble like usual. “Like, you took me and Dustin and Lucas under your wing cause we were new and weird and alone and stuff like that—no, I know Lucas has been ditching Hellfire for the jocks, but anyway— you’re always talking back to those asshole jocks—which is totally cool—so I don’t get why you’re not like that with her.”

“I’m sorry, I must be confused.” The man spoke with sarcastic interest, a sinister smile breaking out onto his face. “Are you two talking to me? About something that is, quite frankly, none of your business?”

The two boys look at each other, the nerves shared between them tangible. Eddie raises a brow and tilts his head when they face him again. Still silence. Mike swallows anxiously.

“Well?” He sneers, flicking some of his trail mix at them.

“Sorry, Eddie…” They say in unison as he chews slowly, staring them down. He rolls his eyes as his body slowly relaxes again in his spot and he glances at you again. You were at least breaking off pieces of your cookie now, still reading your book.

“She’s not new or weird or alone anyways. She’s always with the smart kids.” He states, before holding up a hand as his gaze returns to the pair. “Not that I’m inviting you two shitheads to stick your noses in my business.”

The freshmen, along with a few others at the table shift to look over at you. You’re still engrossed in whatever you’re reading and you looked miserable, even if you were enjoying a good book. You look tired.

“Dude, literally no one is interacting with her. There’re the Jacobson twins talking at one end—probably still fighting over what’s the right answer to the equation from algebra class (it’s zero, by the way). Then there’s Richie and Greg from advanced calculus. Some people I don’t know…” Dustin mutters that last part before continuing, “And yes technically speaking there are a few girls sitting with her, but they’re not even talking. They probably don’t even know her.“

Eddie stares him down, the conversation still on you burning away at something inside him. He doesn’t want to talk about it. He doesn’t want to talk about you or how lonely you look. He doesn’t want to talk about inviting you over. And he certainly doesn’t want to talk about how mean he is to you, cause he has no interest in trying to break down the intricacies of the crossover between bullying you and fucking you. Especially to freshmen.

“Just saying.” Dustin finally sighs in defeat, clearly getting no response from the DM sat at the head of the table. “But seriously, tugging on a girl’s pigtails cause you like her is completely grade school.”

Eddie had figured that having sex would change things between you two, but he imagined it changing for the better. Things like fucking you in the janitor’s closet or in the back of his van in the parking lot. Feeling you up between classes. Being so fucking mean to you all day until you were all wet and needy for him by the time that final bell rang.

He certainly didn’t imagine this.

At the start of the school week, Eddie didn’t entirely notice your lack of participation. Just that something felt… off-kilter in your interactions. It had been on Tuesday night that he realized nothing felt right because you weren’t glaring at him or shoving him away or pouting up at him. You didn’t even turn your head when an object was flicked at you, you just kept your eyes on the chalkboard.

Now he isn’t particularly well known for his critical thinking with… well… anything other than music, DND, and—subsequently—the math that came along with both hobbies. And, of course, selling drugs. So it’s somewhat understandable that poor Eds didn’t even realize what caused the imbalance for a whole day or two. Once he realized it though, it only frustrated him further. It irritated him that you weren’t playing the game, and it irritated him that it bothered him so much in the first place.

Why aren’t you snapping back at him? Why are you ignoring him, and if you even do look over: why was it always with a sad glance? Why, when he toyed with your skirt on Monday did you tilt your head to the side and quietly ask him to please leave you alone? When he saw you first thing Monday morning with circles under your eyes that were barely disguised by drug store concealer; Why, when he leaned into you as he passed you in the hall with a quiet “Something keep you up last night?” Did you only give him a passing glance with lips pressed together in what might’ve been an attempt at a small smile just to fall flat with that dull look in your eyes.

Being how he is, his game plan had been to keep bugging you constantly. Wear you down until you were finally glaring or giggling or whining, and everything could be back to the way it was. Maybe you were just suddenly playing hard to get. Being a teasing brat who would eventually have a smirk sneak out so he knew you were toying with him, and he could make you pay for it later. That smirk never quirked up your lip though. You were still such a rainy cloud drifting through the school.

The little twerp got to him at lunch today, too. He wonders now if maybe you were sick of the way he acted, and realized you want deserve someone a little less inclined to pigtail-tugging and a little more open and romantic. But why now? He thought you enjoyed it all. That’s why he wasn’t expelled already. That’s why you fucked him and called him for more. Right? Sitting in his van instead of attending the last class of the day, Eddie rubs his hands over his face and lets out a frustrated groan. He feels something crucial missing in him at the fact that he’d rather pull teeth than drop down his smug and playful demeanor even for a second and show you that he’s yours.

He noticed you were pretty when you were a sophomore, but not much else. Now in your senior year with him, god—you aren’t even pretty. You’re fucking devastating, and he knows his methods of showing affection aren’t something that will stand the test of time. You’ll grow tired and fuck it, he’d be living up to that Munson name if he has to see you with someone else—probably wind up serving time right alongside Pops after leaving some guy in the hospital. So maybe there were tweaks to be had. Even if he’s bitter and reluctant about it. (And did I mention bitter?)

Eddie pulls his hands away from his face at the faint sound of a bell, letting the side of his head fall against the window with a solid thunk as he awaits the crowds of students rushing out of the school.

You’re passing by others on your way out of the building, just as relieved as everyone else to be going home for the day—not that your excitement showed. It’s more of a calm relief to be heading to your room again than everyone else’s bubbly enthusiasm to make plans for the rest of the day. (When they should be getting their assignments done after all it’s not Friday yet, you think, but maybe that’s just because you evidently have no life.)

Making your way through the parking lot, a loud horn makes you jump. Your eyes wild and your heart up in your throat, you look around until you spot Eddie laying on his horn with his tongue partially sticking out off to the side. He lets up the second you lock eyes and laughs.

“Need a ride? Gotta couple of good options.”

You huff, trying to ignore his filthy innuendo and shake your head. He groans, settling his head back against the head rest of his seat while you start walking away.

“What the fuck is your problem? Jesus fucking Christ!”

You keep walking, hearing his car door open and the sound of his sneakers on the pavement. His car buzzes irritably at its door being left open while running, but he doesn’t care. You’re sure he doesn’t care about anything, really. He rests a hand on your shoulder to turn you around.

“’m just not in the mood, Eddie.” You snap the second you’re facing him.

But you’re always in the mood, he wants to argue as if that made a difference right now. He lets out a long breath that puffs out his lips as he decompresses, arm bent up to rub his hand on the back of his neck. It’s evident that he’s not used to this, and doesn’t have a clue how to go about it. You eye him in that moment, waiting for him. Waiting for something that made that ache in your chest dissipate and the hole it leaves be filled with a light warmth. Then you’re ready to give up on waiting for something that clearly wasn’t going to happen when he suddenly dips down and drapes you over his shoulder all in one fluid motion.

“I- Eddie-!“

“I- Eddie- I-” He mimics, clearly out of habit and opens the back door to his van to plop you right on top of a random cushion nestled inside. It looks like it’s just a single couch cushion and you wonder where he got only one. Is it from an old couch that was getting tossed anyways? Did he steal it? Who steals a singular couch cushion from the seat of a sofa? And what was that stain on the corner? You’re shifting away from it as he climbs in after you, the tip of his tongue peeking out of the corner of his lips again until the door is shut and he’s settled against it with a sigh.

“Yoo-hoo.”

“What?”

He scratches his jaw as he looks over at you then points at the stain you were avoiding.

“Yoo-hoo. The drink. That’s what the stain is from.”

“Oh… okay.”

Eddie lets out a heavy sigh, his eyes going wide as he fights the urge to roll them while he stares up at the ceiling of his vehicle, and then he finally speaks up again.

“Why are you being all…” He gestures his hands out in a odd way, flopping them a bit before settling them on his legs again. He sighs, tilting his head down and looking over at you again. “I don’t fucking know… you’re not being fun this week.”

Your nostrils flare and your brow creases with a pulse of rage at his words.

“Oh I’m so sorry that I’m not playing your game, Eddie. For your information, yes—as you said so elegantly before— I’m ‘on my rag’ and don’t exactly feel like dealing with you.”

Despite the tone you’re taking with him, a grin is pulling at his face and a few laughs bubble from his chest that were almost like little amused giggles. God, he missed getting you all worked up.

“What? Never got it before?” He suddenly questions.

“I- What?”

He snickers.

“Your rag. The crimson tide. Never ridden the cotton pony before?” He’s having too much fun with this and your face is getting all hot.

“Cause I kinda doubt it. Y’know…” he gestures to your form, “The idea that you haven’t gone through puberty yet sounds fake to me, sweetheart.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well you’ve never acted like this before so unless this is your first week of Carrie...” He hisses an inhale through his teeth.

“My condolences, but look at it this way: You’re finally a woma- hey!” He’s laughing until he’s dodging the random work boot you toss at him—the sight of him scooting away from the projectile actually getting a giggle from you.

“Those ‘r for the garage, doll. Heavy duty shit, can’t be throwing those.” He chastises as he waves the shoe at you, but there’s a weight that’s lifting from him. He got you to just sit and talk to him, and even made you laugh. Even if you’re biting the inside of your cheek now to try and refrain from giving him the satisfaction of your smile. How are things like this right now? Shouldn’t he be bending you over his knee for not acting the way he wanted you to? Shouldn’t he be angry? Shouldn’t he be making you cry?

“I’ve gotten my period before.” You state simply. Eddie puts the boot down, dropping his head back against the interior of his van as he looks at you expectantly.

“Then what? What’s with the bitching and the ignoring and the crybaby shit?” He asks bluntly, making your brow furrow again.

“And not even the good crybaby shit,” he continues in a softer tone as he makes his way over to you, “Where’s my pouty girl, huh? Where’s my brat?”

My. My. It’s making your head swirl, his words and proximity putting up a good fight against this latest impulse to be cold to him. He’s settled in front of you and pulling you forward by your hips.

“Don’t wanna talk about it…” You murmur because he should know. He should’ve automatically known the second he left your room that he fucked up when he didn’t kiss you.

“No? Do I gotta bully it out of you, baby? Should I keep up with what I’ve been doing or are you gonna keep pissing me off with that silent treatment shit if I do?”

Watching your expression, his hands settled on your hips start to massage his fingertips in small circles against your lower back. A sigh falls from your lips before you can even stop it, melting from his touch. He’s massaging that spot that’s been tied up in knots the past couple of days, and taking care of it perfectly. Just when you think he’s suddenly a completely different person he stops the movements entirely. That familiar pout that he loves pulls at your lower lip, clearly disappointed by the loss of his kneading.

“Gonna tell me?” He coos, tilting his head.

Your lips part then close again, faltering on if you should just tell him. He mimics the motion then your pout before grinning at you again. You stay quiet, a new conflict arising inside your head. Should you just tell him and move forward? Should you let him suffer until he figures it out? He deserves to suffer in your book, but who knows how long it would take for him to realize. The man has failed his senior year twice already.

“No? Okay, doll.” He’s separating himself from you now, moving to a corner of his van to start digging through some random stacks and piles there.

He’s going on about how he’d help if he could, but he guessed that won’t happen now. How if only you’d cut lil’ ol’ him a break. His theatrical and bitter words are coated in a soft tone and playful, exaggerated sighs. He’s having all the fun in the world trying to tease you until you just sigh and admit whatever your major malfunction is. It’s lighthearted in comparison to his usual teasing, but even this starts bringing the tears forward.

You hate that he doesn’t know. That it clearly didn’t mean enough for him to notice. You hate that he pulls you in all smooth and sweet to get you intoxicated on him just for him to laugh over it and leave you alone again. You hate how he’s suddenly making you feel cared for just for him to go away again cause he isn’t getting what he wants. Now you’re desperately trying to hide the fact that you’re crying as all of your feelings and aches and pains of this week rush through you.

Sure, he’s seen you cry before but it was never like this. It was teary eyes from frustration or, recently, the occasional sob from how good he made you feel. It’s never been breaking down after a hard week. It’s never sobbing because after all this time the two of you finally cracked, and you’re scared you’re the only one increasingly enchanted every passing second since that first kiss. It was never hiccuping sobs that you were doing your best to push down. Your face is burning, your sight blurry even though tears kept rolling down your cheeks. It’s like there’s a never ending supply to stream down your face and still keep your vision bleary.

“Jus’ sayin’ we could be doing something way more fun right no…w…” He trails off once he finally looks over at you.

He’s holding an unopened pack of cigarettes he had been looking for in his typical mess and pulling out his lighter, but now all his focus is on the way you’re sniffling and shaking. You’re still sat on that cushion, knees up and a hand settled over your mouth with your head turned away from him. A heart-wrenching sob just barely sneaks its way out before you choke it back down. Little huffs are escaping you in a desperate attempt to breathe without letting your need to wail break free. It feels like your lungs are on fire.

“Y/N…” Eddie says in a tender voice that you didn’t think he was even capable of. You shake your head.

“Y/n c’mon…” He tries again with a small, nervous laugh. Nervous you were serious. Nervous that he really made you so upset. Nervous to really show that he cares if he did.

“It’s okay, really-“ Your voice is higher than usual, another heavy breath puffing out before you try to drag it in again just to end up whimpering as another wave of sadness comes over you and you’re too overwhelmed to hold it in. You stay facing away from him as you cry and hiccup, trying to get it back under control.

“I just- it’s stupid, it’s n-ot that big of a deal.”

For Eddie, making you cry is all about the glossy eyes and pouty lips as you stare up at him defiantly or a sign that you need him to quit playing games and fuck you. It’s never been this… brutal. Panic continues to rise in his system, and he’s unsure of how to handle the situation. Once upon a time, he thought he treated you the way that he did because some sadistic part of him liked to always make you hurt, but it was becoming evident that he just liked the play. The banter. The shoving and the glaring and pouting and the wandering eyes. When he acted the way he always did and you didn’t respond or did so in a quiet plea for him to really stop or really cried—it made his stomach clench. The more he tried to keep it up this week the more he realized that when you weren’t playing along he just… he was just mean. Really mean. Not “you’re so awful, just fuck me already” mean, but “you’re making me miserable” mean. And fuck if he didn’t hate the way that felt.

“Is it really that bad?” He murmurs, partially surprised by his own voice when it sounded this gentle. The thin plastic around his cigarettes crinkle under his nervous hands. And he thought he needed a smoke before. “Did I hurt you? Or-or somethin’? Do you need to go to a doctor?”

“No.” You weep, still refusing to look at him and it’s killing him even if a part of him knows he would crumble if he sees how you look right now. God, he hated this. The vulnerability of caring openly and to this extent, but what else could he do? Double down on his usual behavior and kick you while you were already so down you might as well have been sinking into the pavement?

“Y/N, please-“ He tries again and you crack completely.

“It’s just not fair because I thought I wanted this, but it’s to-oo hard. You don’t care enough to stick around. Y-You don’t check in with me. You’ve pushed me around for the past two years and I’m an idiot who thought it was all lighthe-hearted deep down, a-and that you wanted me too.”

You break down into tears again until you put yourself back together just enough so it’s only the constant sniffling and your voice trembling that’s interrupting you. All Eddie can do is stare at you with big brown eyes like saucers while you babble, his brow frowning as he anxiously picks at his fingernails and the skin around them.

“A-And of course I got my fucking period cause why wouldn’t I? Cause why would I catch a break? N-N my body aches and I’m so tired and you… you couldn’t… you didn’t…”

“What?” He’s shuffling a bit closer now, lowering his face like he always did to catch your attention. He was right that seeing your face like this would cave him in, and he wishes he could be dropped into a black hole. He knew he deserved it. At the sight of your current state, he was pulling that smoke he already had his fingertips on and placing it between his lips. He lights it and inhales deeply before letting his hand drop down, cig between his fore and middle fingers, ring finger toying with a tear in his jeans.

“You…” You let out a breath before dropping your gaze to your hands in your lap, tears still slipping down your cheeks and over your jaw to wet your neck and dampen the collar of your top or drop down and land on that skort he hated. “You wouldn’t even kiss me on Sunday…”

You sound horribly deflated at the admission, and his eyes flicker all over your features before the smallest twitches of the corners of his lips start to tug them up even though his eyes hold a sad sort of infatuation within them.

“You kissed me on Friday, but not once on Sunday. And you didn’t even seem to care…” You mumble, glancing over at him once and then twice when you notice the curve of his lips. Your eyes burn with a potential for new tears. “Are you fucking smiling?”

“No—no, well, yeah. Not like that.” He huffs out an anxious laugh. “I just… you ignored me… cause I didn’t give you a kiss..?”

You scoff, lips parted and gaze furious. He is unbelievable.

“Among other things! I-I… ugh! You’re infuriating!” You announce and his brows shoot up, grin widening with interest and he brings his cigarette back to his lips.

“You… you make fun of me constantly. You fuck me and finish in me and don’t even spend time with me after. The least you can do is kiss me. Or… or…” You huff, which was becoming a theme today.

He can’t help but find you cute when you’re angry. You remind him of that temperamental pixie in that old animated Peter Pan film from the ‘50s. He used to babysit a young girl in the trailer park who watched it constantly (much to his chagrin).

“Or you don’t get to have me anymore.” You conclude, and he just keeps staring at you with wild eyes as he smokes.

Your anxieties peak and a voice in your head is screaming to get out of the damn van, even when he’s just casually puffing on a cigarette without a hint of irritation on his face. Eddie lets the cig stick to his bottom lip as his hands find your form to pull you closer to him. His right hand raises to place the smoke between his middle and forefinger, and remove it from his lips. His left hand moves to hook his thumb on your lower lip and part your mouth for him to plant an open-mouthed kiss on you as his smoke floats around you and in your mouth, his tongue hot on yours. The pamphlets your parents gave you about the dangers of cigarettes popped up in your mind as his smoke fills you. The statistics and pictures of smoker lungs mean nothing to you as he kisses you like this.

You’re more than just warming up to the smell you usually couldn’t stand, and you find yourself back where you were on Friday. Willing to take whatever he gives you. As long as he kept kissing you like this. As long as he kisses you like he plans on making you his wife while he fucks you like he’s your high school bully. The kiss is all tongues and muffled moans, your arms wrapping around his neck. You chase after his lips when he finally starts pulling away. An involuntary whimper slid from you as you look at him with heavy eyelids.

“If you want something…” He trails off in a whisper, keeping his half-lidded eyes on you even as he reaches over to tap off ash into a cheap plastic tray. His thumb and pointer finger pinch your chin to keep your focus on him. “You ask, okay? Pretty standard rules, princess.”

“But…”

“But now,” He cuts you off with a soft sigh, head tilting as he looks at you. The eye contact is becoming so intense it’s burning through you. “Now I know this is important for you, ‘kay?”

You’re surprised by this. Honestly you’re shocked by every kindness and touch of patience he provided you today. You would have never guessed Eddie Munson is even capable of such a thing. You nod with your gaze retreating downwards, toying with your hands and he chases after your stare with a tilt of his head to try and get you to look at him again, brows raised up.

“Doll?”

You wipe at the cooling streaks of tears on one cheek with your shoulder then finally look up again, and nod with more confidence this time.

“And…” He looks almost like he’s in pain for a moment before he finally continues “‘m sorry, okay?”

“…Really?” You murmur, eyes wide with shock.

“Yeah.” He huffs out a laugh. “Don’t act so surprised. I’m capable of an apology, given the right circumstances.”

You eye him, silent with hesitation and shock.

“‘N the right girl.” He murmurs with a soft voice even though he had that shit-eating grin on his face. Why is it always so charming? It’s smug and teasing, but always so endearing.

You don’t know what else to do so you just kiss him. You pull him in by his shoulders and kiss him. You kiss him like you could devour him, body and soul. His arms circle around your waist after leaving that partly-smoked cigarette in the cheap ash tray and drags you closer all while kissing you back. He’s leaning down to place you on the scratchy carpeting and hover over you. Any break for air is short-lived before you’re back on each other. Your hands tangle in the messy curls draping around your head, tugging to pull a groan from him.

“Fuck…” He sighs into the kiss, dropping his body down to put more of his weight on you. He parts from your lips despite your whiny protests and presses kisses and nips to your jaw as he works his way to your neck. His arms unfurl from around your waist so his hands can settle on your hips and let his thumbs massage into your skin. You’re pawing at his vest as he works on leaving a love bite on your pulse point below your ear, and—surprisingly—he moves away to shake the jacket-vest combo off and drop it beside you. You eye the fit of his t-shirt and it makes your mind fog up.

All your focus is on the shape of his tummy against the fabric. The way the material sticks to him and shows all the harsh angles of his toned chest. The fact that he had cut off the bottom hem of his top and when he moves the right way you can see that trail of hair on his lower stomach. The shape of his arms under the sleeves. Does he work out? Considering his lack of discipline, you couldn’t imagine him having an exercise regimen, but dear god. His arms weren’t absurdly cut, but they were still thick with enough muscle that his sleeves seem a little tight. You can see the veins of his forearms and the blown out ink on his skin. When he’s on top of you again, sucking on your neck, you let your hands drag over his back and sneak underneath his shirt. The heat of his skin and the moving musculature alone making your toes curl. You’re happy to have him on you, but you wanted that damn shirt off too. You’re grasping at the fabric and pulling it up, gasping when he bites on your neck for doing so.

“Take that shit off-“ You huff, making a smile tug at his lips.

“Using my lines now, doll?” He purrs once he’s raised up again and grasping behind his head to pull his shirt over it. You can’t even think of a smart reply, your brain short circuiting at the sight of his naked torso. Even though you enjoy it, you never really understood his urge to bite. You sure do now. You shift from laying on your back to sit up in front of him while he remains raised up on his knees. Your hands slide up his stomach, feeling the goosebumps that raise in the wake of your cold fingertips. He’s still for once and you bring your hands back down to pull on his belt, fighting against the stiff leather to slide it out of the buckle.

You’ve never given head before, mainly because the only time there was an opportunity it had been with a guy you didn’t even like that much who kept trying to push your head down while you were kissing; but you felt feverish with thoughts of Eddie’s dick down your throat. While rushing to go down on him was the last thing you had on your mind at the start of your day, after he was so sweet on you, you were desperate to taste him.

Eddie’s breath is staggered as he watches you undo his jeans, his pupils all blown out. He can’t even count how many times he’s fantasized about those lips wrapped around his cock, but he knew after everything that he didn’t deserve to go first. Fuck, he wanted to, but he doesn’t deserve it. Belt open and slack and jeans undone, he grabs your hands to pin them over your head once you were pushed back onto the floor and he leans down to kiss you. One hand holds the side of your face and the other is pulling the zipper on your hip down, muttering a you first against your lips.

Before tugging at your skirt skort, Eddie pulled away again to lift your shirt off. He grew irritable for a moment with the long sleeves that fought him, tossing it aside harshly with a grumble that made you giggle. That gentle laugh was the only thing that lightened his mood again and encouraged a small smile before he continued. He kisses down your body, giving you the occasional bite. There are little things that he does along the way that make parts of you feel beautiful—parts that you either don’t pay attention to or even aren’t fond of. It’s an odd thing considering how mean he always is, but he seems to show a devotion to each and every inch of your skin that wouldn’t occur to most men. The way his hands slide along your sides as he makes his way down your chest, giving you the occasional squeeze. The way his arms slip around your midsection and bring you closer to his face with a press to the small of your back, smothering his face between your breasts still covered by a flimsy, lace bra—breathing in the scent of your skin. The way his hold relaxes as he continues down, just to squeeze you to him again when he finds a new spot he wants to smother himself in. One side of your tummy underneath your ribs. The slight rise of your lower abdomen beneath your belly button. Your hip bones.

You’re so drunk on his touch at first that it doesn’t even occur to you where this is leading until he’s already face-to-face with the center of your underwear.

“E-Eddie- no-“ You squeak out suddenly. “Not that.”

He lifts his head to eye you curiously and with surprise at the denial of getting head, lips parted in a question that you interrupt.

“I’m on my period, remember?”

Eddie half-jerks his shoulder up in a careless shrug. “Yeah, I know. So?”

“It’s just… it’s so messy and bloody. I wouldn’t even want you to eat me out right now if I was still mad at you.”

“Doll, c’mon…” He groans while pressing his face into your inner thigh—not to try and convince you to give consent cause he doesn’t care about this boundary, but rather to show how badly he wants to do this. That he doesn’t care about the mess and he doesn’t think it’s gross, in fact he found it hot. If you were sitting in his bed or in his passenger seat and got your period, his perv ass probably wouldn’t even try to remove the stain.

“I want to.” He insists, pulling away again to look up at you. “I think it would be so fucking hot. It’ll help the pain, princess.”

You consider the offer for a moment, wondering if he’s right. If he could make you feel so good that he’d reach and clear out those aches and pains that Tylenol couldn’t even touch. You still shake your head, the thought of all that blood on his tongue and the smell in his nostrils making you nervous and embarrassed. He groans again and dramatically flops into your stomach to hide his face.

“Not with your mouth.” You clarify, cheeks all rosy.

At that, he finally raises his head with a raised brow and his bangs all messy.

“Oh yeah?”

He’s sitting up now, settling back against folded legs as he raises your legs one by one to take your shoes off and toss them randomly. You tilt your head to watch one sneaker smack the back of the passenger seat, then look to the side to watch your second sneaker smack into the interior with a vibrating clunk. After taking off your shoes, your ankles are lightly settled on his shoulders and he has his hands wrapped around your calves as he tilts his head to press a kiss to the inside of one ankle. Then he’s moving to bite the inside of the opposite knee.

After that, he skips right back to your lips, your legs parted to settle on either side of him now. Eddie hooks his fingertips into the band of your underwear and pulls them down, having to begrudgingly separate enough so you can bend your knees up to your chest while he tugs them off your legs. He’s about to casually pull on the string of your tampon when you shake your head quickly and clasp your hand over your entrance.

“I’ll- I’ll do it.” You murmur and he’s (once again) groaning irritably.

He wishes you wouldn’t be so sheepish about it. He can understand the experience of your period not being the most comfortable thing in the world, but he doesn’t know what he has to do to show that he likes it. That he wants to go down on you and wipe that mess off of his face with pride, therefore not needing to look away at your insistence while you take out your tampon. Maybe it’s his pride in being a freak. Maybe it’s a slight twinge of superiority, knowing that he was one of the few guys that would even offer in the first place. Maybe it’s that breeding kink flaring up at what he saw as a glaring reminder that you could possibly get pregnant with his kid. Maybe it’s just the fact that it’s you. But he lets you do it yourself, holding in his usual attitude for the sake of your sensitivity for once, then leaning back down to kiss you the second you give the okay.

The kiss doesn’t have as much of an apologetic gentleness as the others, but it was passionate and it was hot. The heavy breathing and groping and spit; the taste of cigarettes and mint; the scratch of slight stubble and the bump of his nose against yours. Eddie shot a hand out to feel for his jacket which he promptly crams under your tailbone to raise your hips, then dips his thumbs in the band of his exposed boxers to pull his pants and boxers down. (He didn’t take them off completely per usual, but you took getting him shirtless as your win).

Eddie pulls away just enough to wrap his hand around his cock, giving it a few good tugs before leading it to your entrance. He keeps an eye on your expression, plunging into you the moment his tip slid in. The few times he’s fucked you, you were always so messy and wet and warm, but this was enough to sign his soul away. You were soaked with arousal and blood as expected, but he wasn’t prepared for how much puffier you are like this. And so fucking hot. You mewl at the sensation, a dull ache in your lower abdomen at the start, but it’s slowly dissipating. Maybe it’s the association between blood and pain, and menstruation and pain, but you genuinely thought this would hurt more than usual—you certainly weren’t betting on your heightened sensitivity. Even that first stroke slipping into you lit up your nerves.

“‘S good, right?” He asks with a cocky grin, left hand wrapped around your right thigh and his right hand sliding over your tummy and slowly massaging the area.

You almost don’t want to admit it, but you do with a nod and pouty lips that have pathetic little whimpers slipping past them. Eddie slides back out a couple inches then pushes back into you, your toes curling as a bit of blood and arousal gushes and sputters out around his base. You curse under your breath, encouraging him to proceed. He’s uncharacteristically tender, and while seeing his sweet side today was a pleasant surprise—you just wanted him to fuck you.

“Eddie-“ You breathe out.

“Hm?”

“Please just fuck me.”

His grin is devilish and his gaze is fiery. He snaps his hips forward once without wasting a second, threatening to making your eyes roll back.

“Yeah?” He leans down, his voice a condescending whisper as he stays infuriatingly still while this deep. “My baby come cryin’ cause ‘m too mean? But she still wants me to bully her little pussy?”

You whine and nod your head, his following thrusts nearly punching the breath out of your lungs. His hand rests over your pubic bone and starts rubbing at your clit as he fucks into you. Your head lolls back into the carpeting, breasts bouncing with his efforts.

“Such a good fucking slut for me. This pussy all mine?”

“Uh huh-“ You speak in a whiny moan, hips weakly pushing forward and he takes the hint.

Eddie pulls you forward by your hips and holds you close to him as he gives you breathtakingly shallow thrusts. Your eyes begin to water from the way he’s moving inside you and his thumb is brushing on your clit. His other hand parts from your hip to grip onto the center of your bra, pulling it down to free your breasts and to keep a steady grip on you by the fabric clasped around your chest.

“Eddie-” You sob, and an earth-shattering sense of relief blows through him, leaving him temporarily wrecked before settling again like a gust of wind pushing up bird feathers before they smooth out again. Finally seeing those globs of tears in your eyes in the way he loves brought that balance back, and he’s doubling his efforts. Your lips part and your back arches up off of the carpet of his van, those wet streaks leading from your eyes back into your hair just like they were on Friday.

You’re counting your blessings that you aren’t back in your bed with your parents down the hall during your make up session because even the fear of being caught wouldn’t have been able to stop the moan that gasps from your lungs when you cum around him. All the tension and hormones and yearning of this week mixing with the overpowering pleasure he’s giving you, all culminating to this very moment and making you see stars. You feel like you’ve been temporarily shoved under water, all of the sounds around you muffling—even the sound of your own breathing. Just as you’re floating back up to the surface, Eddie’s leaning down to place his lips on yours. His large hands cover both sides of your face as he’s kissing you like he means it, only letting his hands part from your cheeks to wrap around your midsection and scoop you up while he sits back.

“Fuck-” You breathe out, hands settling to cradle the back of his head. You’re sure you look as disheveled as you feel. He thinks you look incredible.

“I know right?” He teases, all smug even in this quieter tone of voice and he laughs when you smack at his arm.

He eyes you from where his face is level with your chest, watching the playful irritation melt from your expression as he starts thrusting up into you. You’re almost too overstimulated from him moving so close to your orgasm that was still pulsing in the aftershock, but fuck if this doesn’t feel too good to pause even for a moment. Eddie wraps his arms around you to finally unclasp your bra and fling it towards the front of his van, metal hooks clinking against the hard surface of his dashboard. His hands smooth over your back, groaning against your skin as he smothers himself between your breasts again, fucking up into you. You start bouncing on top of him to meet his thrusts, whimpering quietly at the fluttering still rippling through your walls. You still have that palpable pulse inside you, squeezing around him and making it incredibly difficult to not cum before he can get you to let go at least one more time.

“C’n you cum for me, doll? Gimme one more?” He finally separates from your chest to look up at you again and while you were always the one looking fucked out, when you look at him you can’t help but feel like you’re seeing him the same way. A faint shine to his doe eyes glossed over with lust, that rosy tint to his cheeks, and the swell of his pink lips. You nod, but your hips buck in disagreement when his touch is back on your clit. It’s admittedly too soon, your eyes burning with prickling tears as the pleasure jolts through you like shocks of electricity rather than rolling waves—but you certainly weren’t going to ask him to stop.

You gasp out his name, fingers gripping the hair all damp with perspiration at the nape of his neck. You feel like you’re vibrating and the cramping in your stomach nearly makes you break and ask him to stop nudging at that sensitive bud. Your nails dig into the back of his neck, hearing him groan against your skin, feeling his hot breath on your chest. The two of you are moving like the universe would simply unravel if you stopped—as if it isn’t already unraveling in this moment.

“Oh my god-“ You moan and Eddie’s sinking his teeth into your breast—partly to punctuate his claim, partly to muffle his own sounds as he unloads inside of you.

You’re trembling in his lap with soft sobs in the aftershock of probably the most heart-stopping, all-consuming orgasm you’ve ever experienced. Even the slightest touch to your flushed skin sent shocks throughout your nerves and made you cry out, so Eddie stays still.

When both of your hearing is clear again, and you swallow to bring some moisture back to your throat—you let out a small laugh. It isn’t malicious or mocking. It rose up out of pure joy and relief and (honestly) a bit of surprise at everything that’s happened. And it all happened so quickly, you aren’t sure if your memory was able to keep up. God, you hoped it was. You want to relive it every time you close your eyes at night.

Eddie’s licking his lips and pulling back to look at you, a few laughs of his own bubbling up. Like always, he isn’t quick to pull out, but he does set you back down onto the carpet and press a few kisses to your jaw. His hands are pressed into the floor on either side of your head, pulling up his upper body to look down at you. Your hair is messy around your face, and streaks of mascara are all muddled around your eyes and down your cheeks. He put all of his weight on one arm to allow his other hand to raise up and swipe at those black streaks with his thumb before settling back down to kiss you, one arm still pressed up and bent at the elbow and the other settling his forearm on the rug.

The kiss is slower, but still sloppy with exhaustion. He pulls back one more time just to smile down at your face and ends up right back to kissing you seconds later.

The sun is setting in Hawkins and the two of you are all over each other until you realize how late it had gotten and your lips might as well have been ready to fall off. But even when you’re dropped off at home with excuses ready, he still climbed in through that bedroom window to keep kissing you once everyone in the house retired for the night.

After all, you finally left it unlocked and he couldn’t stand another week out in the cold.

Eddie never did work up the nerve to properly ask you what you meant by that blunt reply that one Autumn day... ↓

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k-pepp · 4 months

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With the final season of YR coming up, I’ve been thinking about Wille’s journey again. Because he’s 16, we won’t know if he actually chooses to renounce his title or remain in his role as future king, but I have a feeling this season will give us an indication which way it will go. So, before we get any type of confirmation, I want to get my current thoughts out. I’m aware that a lot of YR Tumblr skews toward King Wilhelm so my pro-renounce post might not resonate with anyone and that’s ok. I just want to put all my thoughts together before S3 comes along with something that totally blows all my opinions and assumptions out of the water 🙂 I understand the idea of wanting Wille to be King because he could be such a great leader. He is kind and compassionate and can be good at taking charge. BUT just because a person could be good at something, doesn’t mean they should be forced to do it. My number one reason for being in favor of Renouncing his Title is the sheer fact that Wille doesn’t want to be King. He doesn’t want the title. He doesn’t want that life. Wille has been shown a multitude of times talking about how he struggles with the duties that come with being a prince. Whether it’s with Erik:

Or August:

Or Boris:

(honestly, this boy will spill his guts to anyone who is willing to even half listen to him. My god. I’m so glad they gave this poor kid a therapist) He's also talked about how he feels trapped in this position. For him, to renounce the throne would be freedom. Freedom to live a life he actually wants.

Even the mere idea of staying in his current position makes him physically ill.

Some people take the end of episode 2x06 to mean he’s moved beyond all that and accepted his role as the future king. I didn’t personally see it that way. I saw it as a combination of a few things. 1) When come face-to-face with it, he just couldn’t let August give the speech (But the fact that he was initially willing to let someone who distributed revenge porn against him become king really speaks to how much he definitely doesn’t want that position) 2) He didn’t want Simon to have to compromise his happiness and give in to a situation he didn’t actually want 3) He didn’t want to hide anymore. He wanted to be himself. Wille is a person who craves authenticity. Which brings me to a bigger point… Life as the Crown Prince / King is inherently inauthentic. One of the main pro-King arguments is that he would blaze his own trail and do things his way. But how? Being a member of the royal family is a job. The basic responsibilities of that job are to do things like diplomatic visits, hosting events, being part of photo ops, schmoozing with people… pretty much all things having to do with putting on a public persona. It’s great that he could be himself in the sense that he would be the first queer Crown Prince / King, but the baseline duties he would have to fulfill are still inherently inauthentic. And I don’t know how he would “do it his way” aside from just not doing it. He hates putting on fake smiles

the photo ops

the schmoozing with people

Erik even told Wille, the way to get through that stuff is to just pretend to be someone else.

We know he’s capable of doing it. We saw how charming he could be at Parents Day weekend. But that was because he wanted to sit with Simon and impress Simon’s mom. Other than that lunch, he mostly hid in his room. And it goes back to my original point. Just because someone may be good at something doesn’t mean they should be forced to do it. (And yes, even if he walked away from the line of succession, he could still have familial obligations, but it wouldn’t be anywhere near the level of what is expected now) At this point, Wille is only continuing as Crown Prince because of a commitment to his family. Mainly Erik.

He doesn’t want to let him down or feel like he’s betraying his legacy. To Wille, Erik was perfect. We only saw two full conversations between them and in both conversations, Erik was telling Wille to get his act together because “it’s not that hard”.

That quote is probably something he told Wille a lot. So much that Wille later regurgitates it to Boris. Three different times.

Going on to say that Erik could handle everything easily.

Based on the fact that Erik was going to Boris, he probably wasn’t managing everything with ease. But in Wille’s perception, he was. Wille is basically chasing a ghost. Self-imposed pressure of unattainable perfection. He bears a guilt that pushes him to want to be someone he thinks Erik would be proud of. The problem with that is, Erik was a monarchist. Maybe he struggled a bit (which is why he went to Boris), but based on the things he would say to Wille, he backed the monarchy / family completely.

Ultimately, I just want Wille to be happy. Maybe S3 will completely change my outlook and I’ll root for him to become king because that’s what he wants. But right now, I think he only wants it out of a sense of obligation to Erik. And honestly…maybe my most controversial opinion…if he did stay in his position because of Erik, he probably wouldn’t change that much within the institution. I mean, he couldn’t change much even if he wanted to. He wouldn’t be allowed to do big things without the consent of the Swedish parliament and maybe a public referendum. And I doubt he’d even have the capability to make small changes. As already pointed out by @piebingo in this great post, Kristina didn’t actually want August to be next in line. But she was overruled. The Royal Court has a lot of power and making any sort of reforms or independent decisions is not that simple. Especially within an establishment that relies on keeping everything exactly the same. But even if that weren’t true. Even if Wille could snap his fingers and make all these huge changes… part of me doesn’t think he would. I know a lot of the folks who are pro-King Wilhelm want him to become the king just so he can completely destroy it from within. But to me, in Wille’s eyes there would be no bigger betrayal to Erik’s legacy than Wille burning the institution to the ground. And if he wants to live up to Erik’s legacy. Not betray him. Not let him down. He will act as he thinks Erik would act. If Wille becomes king because of Erik, he’ll maintain the establishment because of Erik. And he would be miserable doing it. Miserable and without Simon. Yes, my other controversial opinion. If Wille stayed as king, Wilmon wouldn’t make it. Simon is described to us as a socialist. One of his introductory scenes is him calling the monarchy the country’s biggest welfare scammers. I can’t imagine Simon giving up his musical dreams to join an institution that he hates. I also can’t imagine Wille letting him do that. That was such a big part of Wille’s growth in Season 2. Wille wouldn’t let Simon sacrifice his happiness for the sake of his own happiness (being with Simon). Even if Simon didn’t end up pursuing something in music, he made it clear in his talk with Rosh and Ayub that he wants to work hard to make something of himself.

I mean, look at him. Look at this sweet baby angel’s face when he’s told he has an opportunity that will open doors to his future. I can’t imagine him giving up his ambitions or autonomy to become prince consort. Having to live every day under royal rules and protocols. Maybe he would. I personally can’t see it. And finally, I know a main reason people like the idea of King Wille is because we like the idea of a queer king. But as much as we all want queer representation; I don’t think it should be anybody’s responsibility to be the political representation that people want to see. Wille shouldn’t be in a position he hates because he’s queer. A queer person living their life and getting out of a toxic situation is also good representation. A person can’t fix the problem by becoming part of it. Having him be the face of an institution that’s been about exploitation and oppression isn’t going to solve it. It's always been said by Lisa and Edvin that Wille’s problem is not that he’s queer. It’s that he’s a prince. Everything about what’s making him unhappy is about him being prince / the future king. Him walking away from his title would be about him escaping a future that would make him miserable. Personally, that’s what I’m hoping for.

#I’m sure all of this will be useless when S3 comes out #Since Wille is only 16 it’s pretty useless now 😅#But I’m happy to finally have these S1 and S2 thoughts out of my head #young royals #pro (eventual) abdication

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forever-rogue · 1 year

Note

Ok so I don’t know if your requests are open, but I’m going to drop one in case… 😅

A Joel Miller x Reader story where Joel and Ellie arrive to Jackson. Could it be a moment like where Ellie saw *possibly* Dina? They could make eye contact and maybe he’s interested in her and wants to know more? Something along those lines hehe.. You can totally add more whether it be spicy or fluff! :)

AN | Please this is just the softest idea. Plus - wing woman Ellie! 🥰

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 2.6k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

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It happened so fast that he almost didn’t realize that anything had happened.

He was trying to listen to Maria, really he was, but he found himself zoning out more than he wanted to. Admittedly it was a lot to take in all at once and he wasn’t sure what to think or where to look anymore. He hoped that Ellie would be able to catch him up later although he had his doubts; she seemed just as distracted. Well then - maybe things would be easy to pick up on.

But then it happened. He heard something about communes and vegetable gardens but when he looked ahead, time seemed to slow down and the voices around him were muffled and distant.

He saw you. It happened so fast that he must have imagined it. You caught his eye and offered him a sweet smile but as soon as he blinked, you were gone.

It must have been his imagination playing tricks on him. He was tired and in desperate need of a shower and nap; surely you were nothing more than a mirage.

“Joel?” he snapped back into attention, finding Tommy, Maria, and Ellie all watching him curiously. His young charge raised an eyebrow, "everything okay?"

"Fine," he huffed indignantly, waving her off before the group continued to walk on. Maria was in front, back to explaining everything in detail as he and Ellie fell behind. She nudged his arm, silently conveying her question to him. They'd gotten to the point where they could easily communicate without words, "just a moment of distraction. Nothin' to worry about."

"I can find out what her name is," Joel almost stopped in his tracks at her sudden comment. This girl was way too observant - it was a blessing and a curse. His felt his entire being flush with warmth as he opened and closed his mouth wordlessly, "you're even prettier when you blush!"

"I'm not - I'm not blushing," he hissed but he knew he was. His face felt like it was on fire, "Ellie."

"Fine," she held up her hands innocently putting on a sweet smile in an attempt to get him off her scent. She had a plan - she was already plotting on how to get the two of you to meet, "I won't say or do anything. I'll be quiet as a church mouse or whatever that old saying is."

"Good," despite his hesitation and suspicions, he put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her in for a hug, "good."

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Ellie Williams was a liar. A damned, dirty liar. But it was all out of affection and care for the man that had become her father figure.

He took good care of her and was always looking out for her best interests so for once she was going to return the favor. The man had been through a lot. He deserved some happiness too.

But she had to work smart and be subtle, otherwise her plan would explode in her face.

The first step? Naturally, she had to find you and get your name. It should have been simple…but of course it wasn't.

Jackson wasn't small but it wasn't that big either. There were more people in the community than she had bargained for and finding you again seemed an entirely impossible challenge. She'd managed a few fleeting glances at you and that was all she had to go.

After a few days of looking she'd almost given up hope.

Until she saw you tending to a flock of loudly bawking chickens. Bingo.

She pretended to be fascinated by the chickens…although honestly she was amused by them, and came over to you.

"Look at all those chickens!" Despite her initial thought that she would remain calm and calculated, her excitement got the better of her.

"Look at all those chickens," you agreed as you smiled at her. It took her a moment to realize you were standing there and watching her until she made a small sound of acknowledgement.

"I'm Ellie," she could hear Joel in the back of her mind telling her to find her manners, "we just moved here."

"It's nice to officially meet you, Ellie," you offered her your name and held out your hand for her to shake, "welcome to Jackson."

"Thanks," she shook your hand gently and you could feel her watching you in the way that kids often did when they were trying to glean everything about you, "it's nice being here."

"It's always nice to have new people here," you grabbed a bucket of seed for the chickens and held it out to her, "Tommy's really excited to have his brother back."

"Joel!" she almost shouted as her eyes grew wide with embarrassment, "his name is Joel. He's my…Joel."

You laughed, a sound Ellie decided she liked and that Joel would like. You tossed some seed to the chicken and Ellie followed suit, watching amazed as the chickens started to peck away, "well, if either of you ever need anything or have any questions just let me know. I was new here too once and it can be a little overwhelming."

"Thank you," Ellie knew all about things becoming overwhelming. Everything had changed for her so quickly since she'd met Joel, "are you-"

But she was interrupted by the call of your name from the distance. She silently cursed Chad, or whatever his name was, for interrupting her little plan.

"I gotta go," you offered her an apologetic shrug, "see you around, Ellie! Don't be a stranger!"

Don't be a stranger. Oh, she would make sure of that.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I know her name!” Ellie ran into the house, yelling, without even waiting to see if Joel was up. She found him in the kitchen, making breakfast for the two of them, an unreadable expression on his face, “the girl. I know her name.”

“Ellie,” he sighed softly, but there was an affectionate bloom in his chest towards the girl, “I told you not to meddle.”

“You didn’t say that,” she sat down at the table and helped herself to some of the fresh orange. He gave her that look and she shrugged sheepishly, “not specifically in those words.”

“You’re trouble, kid,” he sighed, affectionate though tired. He was a tired dad, “I’ll entertain you for just a moment. What’s her name then?”

The young girl softly whispered your name and oh. He liked the sound of it. Even from the brief glimpse he caught of you, he thought it suited you perfectly. He repeated it, testing it out on his tongue and deciding that he liked it.

“Now you actually have to talk to her,” she was most pleased as Joel lightly scoffed at her, “you’re in love with her!”

Joel inhaled sharply and almost knocked the pan off the stove as he quickly turned around, “now just what are you talking about?”

“The look,” she shrugged lightly as if to say that it was all so obvious, “you had the look on your face.”

“What look?”

“The look of love at first sight or whatever,” she was now proceeding to shove some freshly baked bread into her mouth, “I’ve seen enough old movies and read enough books to know.”

“Well you must know something I don’t because there was no love at first sight,” right? Right. His hands were on his hips as he sighed at her, “that’s something made up for entertainment.”

“Whatever you say,” she made kissy noises at him and he cursed under his breath, “when you get married you can thank me. Trust me Joel, you had that look on your face."

“I had no look on my face,” this was ridiculous. She was ridiculous, “now eat your breakfast and get ready for school.”

“Joel-”

“Don’t make me ground you,” he waved the spatula at her but both of them had happy looks on their faces. It had been a long time since he had gotten to say those words. He hadn’t realized just how much he’d missed this. Ellie, on the other hand, had never really had someone that loved her as he did, that was a real parental figure. She liked it too, “do you want bacon and eggs and pancakes?”

“Yes please,” the two of them exchanged a look before breaking into soft smiles.

Yeah…this life was turning out to be pretty okay.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Maybe there was some small part of Joel that hoped that once he had learned your name that he would somehow magically start to run into you in other places. Like that one bit of information would lead to much more.

Well, that couldn’t have been farther from the truth. It was like the universe was somehow trying to keep the two of you apart. Every time he arrived somewhere, you were leaving, or vice versa. Every time he spotted you in a crowd and made his way over, you managed to disappear. It was like a horrible game of cat and mouse.

Maybe he just had to accept that he wasn’t meant to know you. Even if he hated the idea of that.

But - somehow, magically or whatever - the day came when he was finally destined to meet you.

And he couldn’t have been less prepared.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Joel was tending to his small flock of sheep, trying to clean out the dirt and muck out of their grazing area when he heard you. He was filthy; covered in sweat and dirt and probably smelling of shit. But there you were, pretty face and radiant smile waving happily at him.

But damn if that smile didn’t make him want to melt.

“Joel!” oh. He was in trouble; deep, deep trouble. He tossed his shovel down, swallowing thickly before exchanging a look with Gertrude (his favorite sheep but he’d never admit it, he didn’t want any of the others to get upset). She seemed to know what he was thinking and baa’ed at him before nudging her nose against his leg. He nodded before making his way over to you, trying to keep his walk calm and cool and not like he was overly excited.

“H-hey,” he nearly choked on the singular word as he reached you, separated only by the fence. If he smelled or anything, you didn’t seem to mind, not balking in the slightest when he said your name, “it’s nice to finally meet you.”

“You too,” you held out your hand and the poor man stared at it - so dainty and delicate compared to his - before shaking it. You laughed softly, sensing the nerves rolling off him, but in truth, you were nervous too, “after all this time I finally get to meet the infamous Joel Miller. It felt like the day would never come.”

“Y-you’ve been wanting to meet me?” there was no way; you were like an angel and he was anything but.. How could you have any interest in anything to do with him?

“I have,” you confessed softly, “it seemed like every time I saw and wanted to say hi you were gone in the blink of an eye. I finally just broke down and asked Ellie where you were.”

“Me?” he repeated, pointing at himself and casting a look around as if to make sure you couldn’t possibly be talking about anyone else.

“Yes,” you laughed softly, and the sound went straight to his heart, “who else could I be talking about? Unless one of your sheep is also named Joel. Then I’d like to meet him too - actually I kind of just want to meet your sheep either way. They’re so cute!”

“Yeah?” his brain was so frazzled that somehow any coherent thought he had left seemed to have left his mind. You probably thought he was an idiot but you had some sort of magnetic pull that kept him firmly in your orbit. He didn’t want to leave it - to ever leave your presence.

“Of course,” you thought it was endearing to see how nervous he became. Truthfully, you were just as nervous but managed to hold it together a little more, “listen, I’ve gotta go but do you want to come over for dinner tonight?”

“Dinner…tonight? With you?” alright, he was going to throw himself off a cliff.

“Dinner tonight,” you confirmed, “my house is the one at the end of your straight - with the yellow shutters. See you at six?”

“Six, y-yeah, yes,” he finally gained back some of his confidence, “should I bring anything?”

“Just yourself,” you smiled sweetly, “and Ellie of course, if you’d like to invite her.”

“Sure,” yeah, he’d ask her but part of them hoped she’d say no. He loved her so much, but he really hoped she’d say no this one time, “see you later.”

“See you later, Joel,” and then you did the unthinkable. You leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. You gave him one last little smile before turning around to flounce away, “six o’clock, Miller!”

He felt like he was going to explode as he touched the spot on his cheek that had been blessed by your lips.

Maybe Ellie hadn’t been totally wrong on the love at first sight thing. He was definitely feeling something; something he hadn’t felt in a long time. And he loved it.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“You met her finally,” Ellie looked most pleased with herself as soon as Joel walked in the door, “you’re welcome.”

“How’d you know?” he couldn’t even pretend to be grumpy as he looked at her in earnest. She shrugged innocently before sliding off her chair and going over to hug him; he warmed up and hugged her back without hesitation.

“Your face,” she stated obviously, “it’s written all over your face. You look happy.”

“I met her,” he confirmed and Ellie squealed in delight. He couldn’t help but match her smile, “and she asked me - us - over for dinner.”

“Oh, you’re totally gonna marry her,” Joel opened and closed his mouth a few times, “but I’ll pass on dinner. I’m going to go over to Dina’s.”

“You knew she was going to ask, didn’t you?”

“Not explicitly,” Ellie shrugged, “but I had a feeling. So….you can go and have your dinner with your love.”

“Ellie,” no malice, all affection.

“You’ll be thanking me for this in a few years,” she insisted, tugging on her sweater and reaching for a backpack, “and I won’t mind if I get a brother or sister then either. Maybe both, who knows!”

“Ellie…” his face was bright red by now.

“Love you!” she threw her arms around him quickly before running towards the door, “see you later - make good choices!”

“Kid…” he watched as she ran out the door and almost slammed it behind her in haste.

He didn’t even know what to say. Maybe nothing needed to be said.

All he knew was that for the first time in a long time, he was looking forward to the future.

One that involved you.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #pedro pascal #tlou #tlou hbo

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nicklesbam · 7 months

Text

“YES!!” I shouted, standing from my chair immediately. I got accepted into Godolkin University. It’s been a dream of mine for a while now

“What?” My older sister came rushing in. I smiled wide at her while she looked confused

“I GOT ACCEPTED!!” She started smiling and hugged me

“I’m so proud of you!” We both celebrated together for a while

Soon it came the day for me to pack the last of my things. I was excited, nervous, maybe even a little seldom for leaving home but it was finally time. I said my goodbyes to my sister and started my way to Godolkin university

I got into the school for my teleportation powers, a video went viral a few days ago of me stopping a robber while at the bank. I try to stay off social media but I still know about things that are trending

I stepped out of my cab and was standing in front of my dream school. I couldn’t help but smile and looked at my map. I hate maps of schools though, they don’t really help me

Suddenly someone bumped into me and I dropped the map

“Oh I’m so sorry” I apologized quickly. I looked up at the person and it was polarity’s son

“I think I’m the one that’s supposed to be apologizing” he had a small smile and I chuckled

“Yeah I guess so. Hey do you happen to know where the dorms are? I’m a little lost” he bends down to pick up my map and hand it to me

“Yeah I can show you” he out stretches his hand to me

“I’m Andre” I accept the handshake with a smile

“I’m y/n, it’s nice to meet you” on the way to the dorms he asks me questions about myself and I return the favor

“So you have any siblings?” He asks another question but I don’t mind

“Yes, I have an older sister. She was honestly my rock throughout everything. She was so happy when I told her I got into this school” Andre nodded listening to me instead of dozing off during my little rambles

“That’s nice, kind of makes me wish I had a sibling” I laughed and he looked at me quizzically

“Trust me it has its ups and downs. We fought a lot as little kids, she would pull my hair and I would teleport her to the zoo” he laughed a little surprised

“You could teleport? And you took her to the zoo?” He questioned in a little disbelief. I laughed at the memory

“It was the only thing I could think of, she hated the lizards!” We laughed even harder and I couldn’t help but think of how much I’m going to miss her

“But no matter how hard we fought she would always be there for me” I smiled warmly. We talk a little more and we finally show up at the dorms

“Thank you for helping me find the dorms and for some nice conversation. I hope I get to see you around” I smile at him. He seems like a nice person, very open to new people

“Well me and a few friends are going out tonight, wanna come with?” I thought about it for a second. He is my first friend here but I’ll need more than one friend at a university this big. I made a decision

“Sure” he tells me when and where to meet them and I go to find my room number. Number 403 popped up soon enough and I walk in to see my dorm with one bed. I looked at it confused and worried that there might have been a mix up

I set my things down and look around. There’s nothing that suspects another person has been in here, just one bed and empty shelves. I leave my things in a corner of the room and go to find an office but before I do, I bump into a girl in the hallway

She has short blonde hair and bright brown almost hazel eyes

“Oh I’m so sorry” I apologized immediately. What is it with the me and bumping into people lately. She smiles at me

“No, no it’s totally ok. Hey you’re the girl moving into room 403 right?” Her voice is sweet and excited. I nodded

“My name is y/n, hey do you know why I only have one bed?” She looked confused as well and walked to my doorway to see

“Maybe they just didn’t have a roommate for you, happens sometimes because ya know it’s a famous school and all that” and shrugged her shoulders, “maybe you should go down to the office to see” I nodded

“Can you uh do me a favor and point me in the direction of the office please? I’m not good with maps” she smiled and laughed a little

“Yeah of course” she gave me directions that I followed to a T and suddenly I’m in front of a large building. I walk down a large hallway and look at everything I’m passing by and I can’t help but be amazed at everything I’m seeing

I finally see someone and walk up to them a little nervously. They have headphones in at the moment but once I walk up to them they take the headphones out

“Hi uhm is this where I talk to someone about my dorm because I only have one bed and I don’t know if it’s because I don’t have a roommate or-“ I was cut off from my rambling

“This is professor brinks office for criminology, not a place for you to ask about your dorm room” they blatantly spoke. I felt so embarrassed and my face started to turn a little pink

“Oh I’m so sorry, I’m new here and got the wrong directions and I’m sorry again. I hope you have a good day” I was about to walk away when h to eh shouted a name

“Jordan, my name is Jordan” I turned back and gave a small smile

“My name is y/n, I would say it’s nice to meet you but I’m just embarrassed right now” they smiled and I couldn’t help but think their smile is beautiful

“Don’t be, it happens a lot of the time with freshman” they continue, “and I wouldn’t worry about the dorm situation, they sometimes give people their own room. Cherish it you might get a roommate next year” I laugh a little

“Thank you and again, I’m sorry for wasting your time” they just smile and I turn to walk back to my dorm

any feedback would be good, this is just a snippet of the story so far

#jordan li imagine #jordan li x you #gen v jordan #jordan li x reader #jordan li #cate gen v #sam gen v #gen v imagine #gen v amazon #gen v rp #gen v cast #gen v x reader #gen v fanfiction #gen v #godolkin university #marie moreau #cate dunlap #andre anderson

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binniebakery · 3 months

Text

Closer

College AU!Taehyun x Gn!Reader (Strangers to ..) Suggestive! ♡ Summary: As a college student it was practically normal to go drink at parties if you were social enough. So when you kiss an attractive guy that you’ve never seen before, and he returns the favor, is that normal too? ♡ Warnings: Smoking, drinking, slight cursing. MDNI please! (also I’m not familiar with smoking so if I use terms wrong or misrepresent it I apologize!) not proofread because I'm lazy lol ♡ A/N: Totally wasn’t listening to ‘one of the girls’ while writing this !! don't ask me why I’ve been writing so much suggestive content lately I just don’t touch grass... mb guys 🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️(I'm honestly on a roll rn) anywho enjoy this short thing!

Maybe you had too much to drink. Maybe. Hell, you could’ve even been cross-faded with the amount of joints being tossed around you, who knows? Your vision felt slightly hazy as a small smile sat on your lips, watching the blurbs of people dancing around to the music blasting in the tightly packed living room you were in. The frat parties at your uni were always a sight to see. You leaned against the wall of an empty corner, using said wall as leverage as your legs were feeling a little too much like jelly. Yeah, you were definitely crossed. Normally you were glued to your friend’s side but it seems tonight she’d run off with a random guy once again. You rolled your eyes at the thought. After a few minutes of deciding whether to call up your friend or a taxi to get back to your dorm, you find yourself staring at a male standing across the room. One hand holding a red solo cup, the other in his pocket as he swayed to the beat of the music. Although you were pretty familiar with everyone that went to these parties every weekend you’ve never seen that specific pair of large brown eyes before. You squinted your eyes in a weak attempt to get a better look but your vision was just too blurry, you were way too far gone. Normally you’d admire from afar but the mixed vodka in your system was encouraging you to go over to him. You bit your lip as you weighed your options, your eyes focusing a little too unnecessarily hard on the cup in your hand and swishing the alcohol inside around. Fuck it it’s not like you’ll ever see him again he probably doesn’t even go to your school. You pick yourself off the wall and slowly stride over to the brown-haired figure. You weren’t too sure how you were going to talk to him but the closer you got the more you found yourself wanting to just pull him in. He was possibly the most attractive guy you've ever seen. You take another sip of your drink, almost spilling it on yourself when someone suddenly bumps into you. “Oh shit!-- My bad I didn't see you there!” a random boy with a backward hat cackles as he pats your shoulder, passing through without a second thought. You simply smile awkwardly and nod as you watch him stride to the person you were just about to approach. You stood a few feet away, not wanting to interrupt their conversation and hoping this guy would leave so you could possibly make your move. He hands his friend the rolled-up blunt that was in his hand. “Here you go Taehyun. I’m heading out now– you comin’ or nah?” He tilts his head, a cheeky grin spread across his face. Ah, so the guy you were trying to approach was named Taehyun. “Nah I’m gonna stay a little longer, I’ll see you later though man.” Taehyun fist-bumps the other male. You internally sigh in relief as you watch him walk away, your eyes looking back to Taehyun as he takes a long drag. You feel yourself shudder in anticipation. “Hey there.”

You freeze and realize Taehyun has caught you staring. Well, now you definitely have to talk to him.

“Hey.” Hey? Hey? Was that really all you could say? “Find something you like?” Taehyun cocks an eyebrow, eyes scanning the way your outfit shows just enough to leave the right amount to his imagination. You weren’t sure if your body was heating up from his intense gaze or the amount of alcohol that was in your system. “Is there an issue with that?” You sweetly respond. You were really throwing your cards onto the table, weren’t you? “Someone’s bold.” Taehyun chuckles as he takes a step closer to you. Eyelids heavy as he keeps sharp eye contact. Had you not been so far gone you would have crumbled under his gaze. “What's your name?” Taehyun leans in, talking loudly over the music. It was his attempt to hear you better but it was all it took for you to look up at him with a face fully flushed. He smirked at the sight knowing it wasn’t just the alcohol doing this to you. “Y/n, I see you smoke.” You aim your head towards the blunt in his hand and Taehyun swirls it between his fingers in front of his lips. “Taehyun, and yeah, you smoke?” You shook your head, you’ve had a few drags before but drinking was more your thing so you were pretty inexperienced. “Wanna try it?” He says as he slowly lifts the blunt to your lips. You shrug and before you can lean in he pulls it away and puts it right to his mouth. Taehyun inhales and blows the smoke in your face and chuckles. You pout at the sudden teasing. You really just want to wipe that cocky attitude right off his face. So you lean in and kiss him. Taehyun stands still in shock, hands hovering above your waist unsure of what to do. You pull away with a confident smile and the look on your face ignites something inside him. He stares at you tongue in cheek, oh you were bold. Taehyun suddenly grabs you by the waist and pulls you in with one swift move. You gasp and his lips are crashing back onto yours. He bites your lip harshly and you groan, the second your lips part open his tongue is exploring inside. You tasted like sweet alcohol and his breath was warm, absolutely reeking of weed. All you could do was let Taehyun ravage your lips as the buzz took over. Your body felt like it was in flames from the way his hands roamed your waist, with your arms wrapped around his neck pulling him impossibly closer. Closer. You wanted more than anything to just feel closer to him. You tug at his hair and Taehyun groans. “Gonna make me do something I might regret if you keep doin’ that” he mumbles against your lips and you take it as a challenge. You pull away and Taehyun looks absolutely fucked. Pupils deep and dilated as he stares at you with full intensity. Those eyes were so captivating and your breath hitches at how attractive he looks right now. “More..” You whispered, but the music blasting around drowned out your hoarse voice. Taehyun is able to read your lips regardless and the second he’s able to hand his blunt to the nearest person he’s grabbing you by the wrist to whisk you away. Both your cups left long forgotten as soon as you place them on the ground. Both of you soon find yourselves making out in the hallway as you weren’t even able to fully go up the stairs without your hands exploring Taehyun like he was artwork. It was driving him to the brink of insanity. Both your senses were heightened to the point that any slight touch caused either of you to shiver. The way Taehyun kissed you had your head in the clouds, he was far from gentle, nipping at your lips and harsh hands gripping your body. All you could do was let him. His mouth finds itself on your neck and you sigh softly as the both of you fumble into the nearest bedroom.

Taehyun pushes you against the door as soon as it closes behind you to cover your delicate skin in pretty purple markings. It was all becoming a blur, his heavy hands taking off your clothes, your tongue moving against his, the booming music fading the longer you were with him, skin and skin grazing, the room heating up further with the smell of weed and sweat. All you knew was that in the end, you and Taehyun were going to get a lot closer than you had intended.

#txt imagines #txt scenarios #txt x reader #txt smut #taehyun x reader #taehyun x y/n #taehyun smut #BakeryTreat♡

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lili-of-the-wildfire · 5 months

Text

okay fine, u all forced my hand in this one. these are MY azzie headcanons, mostly based on what’s canon in the books but i’m nothing if not a woman who would have been forcefully lobotomized so there’s also some delusion sprinkled in. enjoy 😙 (not proof read or correctly punctuated or even coherently arranged, we die like men on this blog)

* he may be a bit quiet in some situations, especially when meeting people who’s intentions he hasn’t quite figured out yet, but if he does nothing else, he’ll offer up a small smile in greeting. he’s not just going to sit there aloof in a corner, sans introduction.

* he’s a total vibe reader tho, his line of work has made sure of that. like he just knows when something is off about someone even if there is evidence saying otherwise. and he’s right every time, damn him.

* he tucks his hands behind his back out of habit, not necessarily shame. he used to be far more insecure, but as the centuries dragged on, he’s become less and less ashamed of what was done to him as a defenseless child.

* that’s not to say he’s fully healed and moved forward, just that time has given him some perspective and wisdom.

* (btw he loves hand massages with your lavender and lemon verbena lotion and he is not afraid to admit it)

* when he gets himself into trouble he tries to slink off into the shadows slowly, instead of disappearing all at once. nobody has a problem calling him out on it, but sometimes he honestly does get away with it.

* he has TASTE! he took one look at cassian and feyre’s gods awful decorating and didn’t even remove his outside clothes before he was fixing it.

* he and his mate’s house would look like something out of a Williams Sonoma holiday catalog.

* the two of you would put up lebron numbers on a joint pinterest account in a modern au.

* he’s quick as a whip with his dry humor and comebacks, and while cassian may be his main target, the two of them combined?? Mr. your mother and Mr. two hundred years at least TOGETHER? jesus it’s a wonder rhys came out of Illyria with the ego that he did.

* he differs from his brothers in that PDA is not his jam. he’s not getting blowjobs at the dining room table or fucking in tents while people die outside. he’s definitely not fingering you for the first time in a shabby inn, either. he’s more publicly reserved than that because he favors romance more.

* you know how rhys/feyre and cassian/nesta fucked before they were in any sort of relationship? azzie’s not doing that with someone he genuinely wants to pursue a relationship with.

* consider the following: does a man who’s spent centuries pining after the same woman come off as anything other than a romantic? no, lovely reader, not in the slightest.

* he’s got the softest heart, i just know it. while he’s kind, he has his reserved exterior, but i think once you get past that as a relationship develops, he’s so tender and thoughtful.

* his gift to nesta was so personal and thoughtful despite their superficial relationship, and he expected nothing in return. imagine what he could come up with for someone he knew on a more personal and intimate level!!

* his gifts may not be as over-the-top extravagant as Rhys would prefer, but they’re so well-planned and personal because he actually listens to you! and he watches you! and he takes the time to actually think about what would be useful and meaningful for you (Mor could NEVER, luv u tho baby)

* while he’s not overtly sexual, Azriel is a FLIRT! a shameless flirt! he doesn’t need to resort to poetry because when you exasperatedly tell him “stop trying to distract me, I’m busy!” he just arches a thick brow, looks you up and down and says “make me.”

* BROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

* And your cheeks heat a bit because he’s looking at you like he knows exactly what you’d taste like and he’s starving for it and then he just laughs and you realize you’re a fly that got stuck in those honey-trap eyes again

* So you huff and roll your eyes, turning to leave the room but a hand on your wrist tugs your momentum backwards and suddenly there’s another hand cupping your cheek, thumb stroking along your jawline.

* A deep hum rumbles from the back of his throat, his gaze dragging from your mouth up to your eyes, “Do that again, I like watching your eyes roll back for me.”

* ladies/theydies i am PROFUSELY sweating !!!!!!!!!

#azriel x reader #azriel #azriel fanfic #acotar

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wisteria-cherry · 4 months

Note

Sirius and Regulus fighting over reader (or James if you ship that, not picky honestly) please.

love your work ❤️

omg tysm ily <33 ive never written regulus, i hope i do him justice!!

sirius x reader x regulus

oh, now sirius wished he could pull the age card. really, he wished there was any reason at all why regulus shouldn’t be able to like you. but there wasn’t; you were a year younger than sirius and a year older than regulus. sirius was normally quite good with reading people, but you were an abnormality; he had no idea which black brother you fancied more.

regulus, on the other hand, was content. as the more level-headed black brother, he knew that he could try, but, overall, you had the last say in which brother you chose. did regulus hope with all his heart that it would be him and not sirius? yes. would that affect his behavior towards you and sirius? of course not.

or would it?

“ditch reg, let’s go out.” sirius plopped down next to you in the library, where regulus sat next to you.

“i’m right here.” regulus looked up from his book.

“i can’t, sirius, i’ve got to study.” you reply apologetically. “regulus is tutoring me.”

“i’ll tutor you, then.” sirius decided, leaning over to catch a glance at your book.

“you’re hardly in class, how do you expect to be a tutor if you don’t know the content?” regulus frowned.

“i know it.” sirius replied, as though that answered the question.

“go away, sirius. you’re being distracting.” regulus’ frown deepened. regulus liked spending time with you; he didn’t like how sirius was being so intrusive.

“maybe a distraction was necessary, right, love?” sirius grinned his most charming grin, disregarding regulus in favor of you.

“i suppose i could use a break..” you begin, and sirius’ expression brightens. “…but not yet.” sirius sighs dramatically.

“c’mon, don’t you want to have some fun? lemme you out, love, i swear it’ll be the best date of your life.” sirius insisted. you only smile. truth be told, it was flattering to have both regulus and sirius pursuing you, but you felt somewhat guilty; you didn’t want to make a choice like this, not publicly, not when their relationship was so incredibly tense.

“you don’t have to go out to have a fun date.” regulus interrupted. “it can be something just like this, minus the bothersome interruptions by someone.” you look to regulus as he spoke. now that you thought about it, this could easily be considered a date— you and regulus, side by side, studying together. you did recall a few times where his hand went on yours in order to guide your hand to the proper spot on a page.

“are you saying this is a date? this isn’t a date, right?” sirius immediately turned back to you, having finished scowling at regulus.

“i…” you trail off. “i’m not sure. is it?” you look to regulus for support, whose gaze softens upon seeing your confusion. regulus notes that you seemed to be getting a little overwhelmed by the pressure of both boys insisting on your company at the same time.

“i considered it such.” regulus admits.

“dates are a two-way street, reggie, everyone knows that.” sirius rolls his eyes. “which is why i’m actually asking instead of assuming.”

“you act like you never assume things.”

“assume things like what?” sirius grinned.

“assuming that my study partner,” regulus answered, gesturing to you, “would rather go out than actually do something worth doing.”

“going out is worth doing.” sirius retorted. “in fact, it’s necessary if you don’t want to end up a total stick-in-the-mud.”

“forgive me for not skipping every class i’ve got.” regulus replied dryly, returning to the potions book, flipping through the pages to find the one he’d been looking for.

“don’t listen to him, dove, let’s go have fun.” sirius pulled up a chair in between you and regulus and sat down, tossing his arm around your shoulders. “take a break.”

“sirius.” regulus stood up, glaring coldly. sirius’ nonchalant expression changed into a sly smirk and narrowed eyes— gray, like regulus’, but warmer; sirius’ were a stormy sort of gray, and regulus’ had a cool undertone that made them look almost icy blue.

“hm? what’s wrong, reggie?” sirius asked innocently.

“sirius, would you leave? i’m quite done with you interrupting my—“ regulus stopped himself before he could call you his partner. romantic partner. a boy could dream, couldn’t he? “—my study partner. go find some other girl to get drunk with, or maybe smoke with, i don’t care, just— just leave.”

part of you wanted to intervene. you knew that there was a very real chance that things could turn ugly; sirius wasn’t afraid of a duel, and nor was regulus (although he was more quiet about his opinion). at the same time, however, you figured it’d be good for them to get this off their chests.

“your study buddy doesn’t belong to you, reg,” sirius replied casually, pulling you a bit closer via the arm he had around your shoulders. “you can share, i promise.”

“this isn’t a matter of— of ownership.” regulus’ nose scrunched as his expression contorted in disgust at the idea, the idea that you were something to be owned and kept. “it’s a matter of letting us have time alone without being interrupted by you.”

“oh yeah?” sirius finally stood up, his fingers brushing his wand pocket.

“yeah.” regulus pulled his wand out. okay, so it had taken a turn for the worse.

“boys.” you stood up finally, and both boys’ stances relaxed. regulus put his wand down on the table, seemingly just now realizing how ridiculous a duel in the library would’ve been. you frown.

“this is ridiculous. you can’t be arguing in the library, there are people trying to study.” you glance from regulus to sirius.

“like we were before sirius showed up.” regulus grumbled. admittedly, his sulking was something you were surprised to find very cute.

“yes, we were, and sirius had no right to interrupt that.” you give a pointed look towards sirius, who looked away, somewhat embarrassed you hadn’t taken his side (seemingly).

“so this is how it’s going to go: regulus and i will finish our study session,” you decide. “and then this evening, sirius, we can hang out. sound good?”

“sounds good,” the boys reluctantly agreed, still glaring quite fiercely at one another.

“i’m glad we could resolve this together.” you sigh, sitting back down, quite worn out from hearing the two bicker. “now, regulus, about that potion…”

#request #marauders drabbles #marauders drabble #harry potter marauders #the marauders era #the marauders map #the marauders #marauders map #marauders era #marauders #young sirius black #sirius black #sirius black x reader #regulus black #sirius and regulus #regulus x reader #regulus black x reader #love triangle

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blackcherryvelvet0909 · 8 months

Text

Prized Shrimp (Floyd x GN!Reader)

Note: Happy (early) Birthday to @floydleeches . I love you with all my heart <3 <3 <3 Thank you for making my life better than it's ever been before.

You honestly didn’t know what to expect. Volleyball wasn’t the most cutthroat sport - even so, you worried about the teams that made up the game. There were two in total, each student separated into one or the other via a sort of raffle. You supposed it was better to draw sticks than have everyone fight over who was on what team. Maybe Coach Vargas did have a good head on his shoulders…was that bad to say? It didn’t matter either way. It’s not like anyone could read your thoughts - well, you don’t think.

You brushed aside the troubling thought in favor of watching the game. As of now, the score was set at a tie. It was anyone’s game - it was so close a small audience had gathered to watch. Aside from a brief timeout due to a wayward strike thanks to Kalim - he almost hit a professor! - everything seemed to be going well. From behind you, you could hear several of your fellow classmates exchanging bets. You glanced to the side to see that even Lilia was getting in on the madol pool. Silver was too far into dreamland to stop his father, and Malleus was too preoccupied by his ice cream.

“Would you like to place a bet, [y/n]?” Jade startled you a bit, having appeared beside you from nowhere. In his hand he held a silver platter, stacked high with madol. Though his smile was courteous, you spied a glimmer of mischief in his eye.

“No thanks, I’m good,” you said with a shake of your head. “I’m just here to watch.”

“Very well.” You were surprised Jade relented so quickly; perhaps he knew your answer from the very beginning, but a certain octopus insisted he offer. As he stood, Jade turned his attention to the game. “Out of curiosity, who do you think will win?”

“Mmm…I don’t know,” you admitted. You watched as Ace, who was stuck on Rook’s team, knocked the ball over the net. “It’s a pretty close game. I never knew Rook could lead a team so well.”

“Like me, he is a vice housewarden,” Jade commented. “It is a staple for those in such a position, and higher, to have leadership skills. A level head is also required,” he chuckled as he glanced over to the left with a smirk, “though I’m afraid not everyone is perfect.”

You followed the man’s gaze over to someone you didn’t expect to see: Idia. He sat next to Ortho on a large blanket laid out across the sand, the hood of his jacket pulled tightly over his head. His little brother’s eyes sparkled as he cheered for his fellow students - knowing him, he held no team preference. You supposed Jade referred to Idia, not Ortho, when he made that statement. I mean, Idia’s dorm hadn’t spiraled into chaos yet, so he must be doing a good job. …But how much of that was Ortho’s doing? You felt kinda bad for how little faith you held in Idia’s capabilities in that brief moment.

“How many bets have we accumulated?” You looked over your shoulder to watch Azul approach the two of you. He wore a straw sunhat - it looked to be of high quality. So the head had gotten to him. Floyd wasn’t pulling your leg when he joked about it earlier.

“Thirty,” Jade replied to his housewarden. “I just stopped to have a brief chat with our favorite prefect before I went to fetch more.” Should you be worried about being their favorite? Possibly.

You witnessed the almost evil smirk that spread across Azul’s face. “Very good. Thank you, Jade.” Jade gave a small nod before he wandered off to collect more madol. He barely made it a few steps before he was stopped by a few first years, each adding some amount of madol to the silver platter. Well, you hoped it was worth it. Your attention was dragged back by Azul as he sighed.

“Hot, isn’t it?”

“Mhm,” you mumbled as you took a big sip from your water bottle. “I heard it’s supposed to be the hottest day of the week. I’m happy I bought that extra protective sunscreen the other day - I don’t want to end up like a lobster.”

“I agree.” The housewarden suppressed a laugh as he added, “Like Riddle the weekend before.”

You winced at the memory. You first heard it from Ace and Deuce, but their words did Riddle’s state no justice. The poor guy…you were glad he recovered the other day. You couldn’t imagine how painful that was. “Leave him alone,” you lightly scolded. “You’d be worse off if you were sunburned. Floyd told me about the time when you got sunburned when you were-”

“And I’ll demand you stop there,” Azul hissed. He now glared daggers into Floyd, who paid him no mind as Leona served the ball and slapped it over to his side of the sand. “May I remind you we’re in public?”

“Yeah, I know,” you retorted. “So just as Riddle wouldn’t want you laughing about him getting burned, you wouldn’t want me or Floyd telling everyone about that little incident from your childhood.”

To blackmail the blackmailer was a tricky game - one you had mastered through trial and error. Thankfully you garnered a few pointers from a certain eel in the past to make the process easier. Azul nearly pouted as he crossed his arms and avoided your gaze. “Fine.”

Before you could say another word, whether mock or further reprimand, you heard Rook yell out, “Floyd!” It was so odd to hear Rook refer to the second year by his name; it certainly caught not just yours, but everyone else’s attention. You focused back on the game just in time to watch the volleyball hurtle straight for Floyd. The eel grinned as he jumped up and spiked the ball, saving his team from a sure loss if the volleyball had hit the ground. The hit was so powerful it shot back over the neck with lightning speed. Though Leona, Deuce, Jack, and their other teammates tried to hit it back, it was no use. You watched in awe as the ball slammed into the sand over the drawn line of Leona’s side of the court.

Vargas blew his whistle the moment the ball made contact. “That’s the game!” he announced.

Before Vargas could even declare the obvious winner, Rook, Ace, Floyd, and their comrades erupted in victorious hollars. Though each teammate congratulated the other, it was clear who was the star of the celebration. Floyd received pats on the back, punches to the bicep and shoulder, and even a few side hugs. When Ace came up to give him a high-five, Floyd instead hoisted him up in his arms and spun him around like a ragdoll. Instant regret on the redhead’s part. You watched as he almost melted down to the sand once Floyd released him, lying face up on the ground as he tried to get his bearings again. No harm in going to help the poor guy out.

“You okay,” you asked through a laugh as you stared down at Ace.

“‘M fine,” he practically garbled. He blinked a few times - when he could see straight, he noticed the hand you offered out to him. He took it and you helped him up. He shook his head as he got back on his feet, mumbling, “Seven, I hate when he does that.”

“He does that a lot?”

“Whenever we win a game in basketball, yeah.” Ace’s gaze flicked over to the left; as you followed it, you saw Deuce headed in your direction. That shit-eating grin that was so, well, Ace Trappola was back as he teased, “How’s it feel to be on the losing team?”

“Not that bad,” Deuce shrugged with a smile. Ace seemed a little disappointed by the answer. Aww, poor thing couldn’t rub it in Deuce’s face. What a shame. “You guys played really well!”

Rook heard Deuce’s praise, he couldn’t help but turn in his direction and give a little bow. “Merci, Monsieur Spade! Your team played most beautifully as well. The way you dove to bounce back the ball at the beginning, how Roi des Lions lead your flock with such grace - and how mighty Fler-a-bras’s form throughout! Ah!” Rook swooned, one hand on his heart and the back of the other pressed to his sweaty forehead. “Ravissant!~

Ace leaned over to you to whisper, “I’m gonna vomit if he keeps going.”

“Soooo, what’s our prize?” Your mind spun with how much your focus was being tossed to and fro. It was dizzying how many people were talking to you and around you all at once. Even so, you managed to direct your attention to Floyd, whose question was directed to Vargas. “We gotta get a prize, right?” A few of his other teammates perked up their ears - human, beastman, merman, and fae alike - at the mention of a reward for their hard work. They, including Ace, made a little huddle around Floyd, all eyes now on Vargas.

“Of course!” the coach affirmed. “You all get a prize for your hard work.” Now even the losing team was paying attention. Leona stopped his stride away from the net (not everyone could be a good loser) to listen; Jack stalled in wiping the sweat from his nape. Vargas wasn’t really one to give out consolation prizes to the losers, so this was a rare treat indeed! “The prize is…” Vargas paused for effect - every head, from audience to teams, craned forward in anticipation.

“The valuable bond you established with your teammates!”

Fucking really?!

That was the thought you shared with almost everyone in attendance. Even the staff who watched on the sidelines (minus Crowley - one could only guess where he was) gave Vargas a collective bombastic side eye. The coach seemed to not fathom why everyone was so disappointed.

“That’s some bullshit, dude,” one student complained from within the large group of - now former - volleyball players.

“Language!” At least half of those students, some even from the audience, collectively shrunk back at the sound of Trein’s commanding voice.

“This was a team exercise,” Vargas said in his defense, hands on his hips. “I will be sure to give you all extra credit for your efforts once we return to campus.”

“Laaaame,” Floyd groaned. “I want something better! You don’t have food or some cool sh-stuff or something?” Nice save, you thought.

“If you mean give you junk food or some other thing to rot your muscles, that’s a no, Mr. Leech.” You were sure the term was ‘rot your brain’, but okay. Sure.

Though Floyd seemed to relent, although reluctantly, other students continued to argue. Ace was among that throng; Rook and Jack seemed okay with the outcome, while Sebek busied himself with seeing if Lilia and Malleus needed anything. Leona was long gone to some other part of the beach, Deuce himself now collapsed on his own towel. You turned to see Jade passing out madol to those who won their bet, while Azul smiled gleefully as he explained again and again the terms of the bet to ruffled losers. Of course, you supposed Azul had betted on Floyd and was very happy to reap the spoils. If it were the other way around, he’d have turned the rules in his favor. You were honestly surprised Divus and Trein had nothing to say about the gambling.

All this distraction around you caused you to miss the grin that creeped up Floyd’s lips. Sharp teeth glinted in the sun as his heterochromic eyes focused on one thing - one person. He glanced back at Vargas and asked, “Coach, if I find a prize I want, can I get it?”

Ignoring the several students that still tried to plead their case, Vargas shrugged his shoulders. “I suppose so.” He jutted his finger in Floyd’s direction. “But if I catch you eating junk, you’re doing laps around the campus for a week!”

“No problem~” Floyd crooned, no longer looking at the P.E teacher. He’d set his sights back on his chosen prize - his prey. “I’ve got juuuuust the thing I want.”

You were about to go and check on Deuce, who was currently pouring water over his head, when you were suddenly hoisted into the air. A shrill yelp ripped from your throat as your stomach flopped at the quick rise of your body. Two large hands held you up, gripped under your arms as you were held up like a dog - or a little beast you messed with sometimes. “My prize is Shrimpy!~” Floyd declared from behind you with glee. He paid no mind to the way you flailed once you realized just who had you in their grasp. “They’re not junk - not for me, anyway.”

“Floyd, put me down!” you begged.

“Nnnnope!” Floyd giggled as he turned you around to face him. “Look at you wigglin’ around. So cute! We’re gonna have lots of fun, Shrimpy~” Floyd peeked over your shoulder to make eye contact with Vargas. “Right, coach?”

You strained your neck to look back at Vargas. Your eyes silently pleaded with him to tell Floyd to put you down. That was not what you got. “Mhn,” he shrugged again, “I’ll allow it.”

No mercy for you, it seemed. Next thing you knew, you were tossed over Floyd’s shoulder, his arm wrapped around your waist as he began to carry you away. You looked about to try and find someone to help you. Rook wouldn’t - he’d be more likely to join in on the fun than anything. Ace was too preoccupied with trying to convince Vargas, more likely digging himself into his own set of laps. Deuce seemed to now be fast asleep, and Jack was nowhere to be seen. Jade and Azul would certainly be of no help, and the other teachers were too focused on keeping the rowdy losers - betters and players alike - under control.

As you and Floyd began to pass a dark green towel, shielded by a humongous umbrella, you thought of your last hope of escape. Malleus! There was no other man willing to protect you. Your gaze soon beheld the tall fae, so already sat on his knees on the towel, looking ready to bolt up and take off after you. Your eyes met, chartreuse to [eye color], and you thanked the Seven that there was clear determination within those slitted orbs. But then you spied Lilia grab Malleus by the wrist, hold gentle yet firm. The older fae whispered something into the prince’s pointed ear - to your horror, he sat back on the towel.

“Malleus??” you whisper-yelled. The only answer you received was the most pitiful apologetic look that ever graced his elegant features. Lilia, on the other hand, smiled gaily and wiggled his fingers in a goodbye. His expression was almost mischievous, in a way - like he knew something you didn’t. Silver just roused from sleep from behind him, and Sebek paid you no mind as he lectured the young man for his sleepiness. You realized it then: There was no help coming for you. You weren’t necessarily scared…nervous was a term, however.

“What should we do first, huh, Shrimpy?” Floyd asked. Was he actually giving you options? “We could go eat, make sandcastles, do some diving, wrestle around,” he paused, and you could practically hear the smirk upon his face, “ooooorr we could go swimming~”

“I-I’m actually kinda hungry.” As if to help your cause, your stomach growled just as the word ‘hungry’ left your lips.

“Awww, is your tummy rumblin’?~” Floyd cooed. “Okay, we’ll go get something to eat!” Floyd abruptly turned in the direction of a food and drink stand at the edge of the beach. You were flung almost violently, becoming a little dizzy as you settled against his upper back again. “After that, we’ll go swimming!”

“Sandcastles sounded nice though…” You were honestly just trying to stall the inevitable.

“Yeah, but swimming’s more fun! We can even play hide and seek.” You glimpsed the razor teeth that made up Floyd cheerful, yet menacing smile. “I’ll be the seeker~”

Of course he would be. Well, at least you’d get a last meal out of it. Better make it a good one. Hopefully it won’t be so bad…to have that time with your weird, longtime crush was nice.

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