#i totally understand if she gets ditched

[foundfamilyhq]

[artdcnaldson]

changeover || art donaldson x reader ; patrick zweig x reader

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Word Count: 7.2k

Warnings: SMUT (p in v sex x2, fingering, f!recieving oral), drinking, pining after people you can’t have, a dash of reader x tashi, sprinkles of patrick x art, porn WITH plot

Summary: your ‘casual’ fling with art isn’t working for you anymore, which sucks because you probably love the guy. enter a freshly heartbroken patrick to take your mind off of things.

FALL 2006

You knew exactly why Art Donaldson refused to acknowledge that you were an item. You could see it clearly across the room— the way you were cast to the shadows while he followed Tashi around like a lost puppy.  

It made sense, even if it made your chest ache. Tashi was gorgeous, and was acing her classes, and was going to go pro soon and become a beautiful, all-American sports icon. And you were just some girl he’d met because he needed help understanding the reading for class. 

You’d known each other for months by then— hooking up, going on dates that ‘weren’t dates,’ spending most of your time together. And you stayed firmly in the no-labels zone. But you weren’t bitter. It was totally fine, being treated like a girlfriend in all but name. 

Art laughed and leaned into Tashi. It was totally fine.

You were nursing a beer in a red solo cup and trying your best to look friendly and approachable. The only reason you were even at the party was because Art had brought you, so you should’ve felt grateful. You should’ve been having fun.

But just as soon as you’d arrived, he’d slipped away with a promise to be right back. It had been over an hour, so it seemed like you had very different definitions of right back.

“Looks like your boyfriend stole my girlfriend.” You turned to see Patrick, tanned from his time on tour. He was only going to be at Stanford for the weekend before taking off for a challenger a state over, which meant he needed to capitalize on any chance to spend time with Art and Tashi. 

Unfortunately, you’d both been ditched.

“Art isn’t my boyfriend,” you said pointedly, maybe a little too quickly. 

Patrick knew better. The last time he came to visit, he’d interrupted a pseudo date night between the two of you (which was a nice way of saying he walked in on the two of you in Art’s dorm while his best friend was was knuckles deep in you). The rest of that night wound up being spent passing around mixed drinks made with cheap vodka and whatever you could get from the nearest vending machine. You overheard the it’s casual, nothing serious conversation they’d had through the ajar door while you bought more Powerade and Red Bull in the hall. 

But you were being so understanding and cool about that. 

Patrick narrowed his eyes slightly. “Really?” The corner of his mouth tugged upwards for a moment before he wrapped his lips around a beer can. He tried to hide it, but you saw. 

You chewed on your lip, stomach twisting with nerves and curiosity. He was probably just messing with you, trying to get your thoughts all muddled up about Art because it was fun. Still, you couldn’t help but ask the burning question echoing through your mind. “Did Art say something to you? About us, I mean.”

The question felt pathetic. A stupid, desperate girl begging to know if the guy she liked felt the same way. 

Patrick shrugged, leaning against the wall bearing the portraits of the ghosts of frat brothers’ past. “Not directly. But you’re here together, right? And he’s still seeing you.”

“I guess,” you replied with a huff, embarrassment burning hot in your chest. 

“If you’re worried about Tashi, don’t be,” Patrick said, sparing a glance in her direction. When you looked towards Art, and the way he was smiling and laughing and looked so natural beside her, a frown turned your lips. Patrick nudged your arm and offered a smile. “Hey, I’m serious. Nothing’s gonna happen there. Trust me.”

It should’ve felt nice. A total reassurance from the person who knew Art best. But it did nothing to quell the turmoil twisting in the pit of your stomach. Because if he really did feel that way, why was he over there with her?

Tashi Duncan. So beautiful, radiant, and perfect that she had total control over two men. Your paths didn’t cross much, outside of Art, and that was rare since he liked to keep you two apart. 

But there was a part of you that knew that Tashi would’ve been able to make you melt with one look, one smile, one word. You wanted to experience what Art did. You wanted to know what Patrick knew, and what Art was jealous of. Or maybe you wanted something of your own too, something to keep Art out of. 

“I need another drink,” you said suddenly, meeting Patrick’s gaze. “Do you wanna come with me?” Patrick’s eyes flitted quickly towards Tashi, where she bantered with Art and the rest of the tennis team. 

There was something in his expression you found incredibly familiar. That pang of jealousy. The ache of not belonging just right. The look was gone quickly, replaced by a toothy smile. “Sure. I could use something stronger.”

——

An hour later, Tashi left with Patrick, and Art quickly decided to take you back to his own dorm. 

His lips were insistent against yours, kissing you hungrily, completely dissonant to the delicate way he tugged down the zipper of your dress. His fingers were warm where they brushed along the line of your spine. His tongue brushed against yours, tasting of beer and mint gum.

“What were you doing with him?” He murmured against your lips just as he peeled off the cheap, bodycon dress you’d gotten from Forever 21. It was tossed across the room, to be lost in the mess of practice duffles and empty water bottles and dirty laundry. The only time he parted his lips from you was to lift you onto his bed and slot himself between your thighs. 

His tongue licked into your mouth possessively, claiming you as his from the inside out. You gasped as one of his hands kneaded your breast, panting open-mouthed against his lips. “Who?” You managed weakly, your mind completely blank except for Art, Art, Art. And maybe a tiny voice in the back of your head that was still thinking about the Tashi of it all.

“Patrick.” His voice was soft against the tender skin of your jaw. “I saw you two talk, then you disappeared for, like, an hour.” His teeth nipped gently at your pulse point as he nuzzled against your throat, awaiting your answer. 

So he had been watching? He was with her, but he was still thinking about you. It made your heart flutter. You moaned softly as his hand slid between your thighs, teasing you through your panties. “Getting drinks,” you managed feebly. “Fuck, Art, I can’t concentrate while y—“

You gasped at the feeling of his fingers slipping beneath the band of your panties, teasing you with delicate touches. “Just drinks? For an hour?”

A strangled gasp escaped you as fingers slick with your arousal met your clit. When your eyes opened in surprise, you found Art staring right back. His touch was relentless, flooding your senses with pleasure as he demanded an answer. “We were in the living room,” you managed between soft pants and moans. “He was telling me about the— god— about the tour.”

Art’s expression flickered slightly— a tiny furrow forming between his brows. Was it doubt, or possessiveness, or anger? Before you could figure it out, his lips were against your throat, your panties were pushed to the side, and he was easing two fingers inside of your cunt.

“Fuck,” you cried out, grasping onto his shoulders. French manicured nails scratched at the pastel-colored polo he wore— why was he still wearing his clothes? Soft, keening moans slipped past your lips as he fucked you with his fingers. Every thought of him preferring Tashi or him leading you on slipped from the front of your mind as his thumb rubbed at your clit.

With a free hand, you palmed him over his pants, relishing in the way he panted against your warm skin. You made quick work of the button of his jeans— you knew your way around him like the back of your hand. He was warm, pulsing in your delicate grip when your hand slipped beneath the band of his briefs. Slick at his tip with need. 

He moaned against your pulse point, nuzzling against you as you began to jerk him off in time with each pump of his fingers. 

“You smell like him,” he groaned, nose pressed to the spot just beneath your ear as his hips bucked into your fist with a new sort of desperation. You didn’t have to ask who he meant. His tongue slipped out, lapping at you briefly before sucking a bruise into the delicate skin there. 

His fingers flexed so they brushed against the sweet spot within you. Your eyes rolled back and a sob of pleasure clawed its way from your throat. “Need you,” you pleaded, equal parts a thoughtless cry and a demand.

And who was he to deny either of you that? A pitiful whine escaped your lips when he slipped his fingers from within you and moved your hand from him. He stood to clumsily pull off the rest of his clothes at the same time that you quickly shimmied off your panties and tossed them to the side.

”You’re so fucking sexy,” he groaned as he joined you back on the bed, slotting himself between your legs. You were so pliant and sweet beneath him, looking up at him with adoring doe-eyes and a pretty smile on your spit-slick lips. He should’ve been perfectly content.

As he parted your thighs, stroking his dick as he lined himself up with your entrance, he wondered if Tashi and Patrick were doing the same exact thing at that same exact moment. He could imagine it clearly— Tashi, splayed out on her bed, and Patrick right at home between her thighs; sinking in, faces contorting with pleasure. Before he could stop himself, a soft moan slipped past his lips at the mental image. 

Your nails dug into his shoulder blades as he sheathed himself within you, and he buried his face into your neck. Fuck. You really did smell like Patrick. The shitty Axe body spray that was supposed to smell like chocolate, and the lingering scent of cigarettes. 

You moaned prettily, pussy squeezing him like a vise. Manicured nails scratched against his back, delicate enough that the marks would probably disappear by that time the next day. He was so used to Patrick lounging shirtless around their hotel rooms after tournaments— severe-looking scratch marks looking like angel wings against his pale skin. He always wore them like a badge of honor the night after he snuck off with some pretty girl he’d set his sights on. That’s how you know you’re doing it right. 

Why was he thinking about Patrick?

He tried to lose himself in you— in how pretty you were beneath him, the sweet words falling from your lips with each thrust. Feels so good, Art. ‘M so close already. Gonna make me cum. 

When he looked down at you, your mouth hung open, lips shiny with spit, begging to be kissed. His mouth met yours messily and you both moaned into the kiss. He moved a hand between your thighs, rubbing at your clit as he bullied his cock into your inviting cunt. 

You came with a string of moans and expletives that made the person next door bang on the wall out of annoyance. Art had to pull out as soon as he felt you start to squeeze around him. All it took was a few clumsy strokes and he was spilling onto your stomach with an almost embarrassing whine. 

You both lay there catching your breath and cursing the shitty air conditioning in the dorm. He wiped the mess of cum off of your stomach with an old tee shirt that was hanging off the side of his desk and tossed it to the side to be dealt with later.

“You’re so gross,” you mumbled with a tiny laugh, reaching down to grab your underwear from your floor. After you pulled them back on, you watched him dig through a pile of clothes in a papasan chair for a passable pair of pajama pants. An amused smile played on your lips at the sight. “Do I need to buy you a hamper?”

He held up a pair of pajama pants to examine them, shrugged, and pulled them on. “I have one, it’s just full.” A boyish grin spread across his lips as he crossed the room towards his dresser. He tossed a random tee shirt from the drawer in your direction and climbed on the bed, grinning down at you. “See? I have clean clothes.”

You laughed as you pulled the shirt over your head, then turned on your side to face him. His eyes flickered from your face, down to the shirt, then back. You wrinkled your face in confusion and peered down at the shirt. 

“What? What does it say?” You asked with a laugh.  You held it out, squinting to make sense of the graphic— faded and upside down. Finally, your eyes lit up in recognition. “Oh! I thought you were more of a Maroon 5 and Justin Timberlake guy. I’ve never even seen a Blink-182 CD in your stuff before.”

Art cleared his throat and shrugged, thumbing the bottom of the tee shirt absentmindedly. “I went with Patrick a few years back.”

A smile turned your lips. “It’s sweet that you two are such good friends.” You reached over, brushing his curls from his forehead. He turned, pressing a kiss to the delicate skin of your wrist. “Did you and Tashi have fun tonight?” The insecurity in your words was palpable.

Art shrugged. “A party’s a party, y’know?” He leaned into your touch, letting you play with his hair. “Just lost track of time. I won’t run off on you next time.”

You chewed your lip shyly. “I think it’d be nice for the three of us to hang out sometime,” you said, watching his expression to gauge his reaction. 

“C’mere,” he said with a tired smile, effectively avoiding your suggestion. When he pulled you against his side, he nuzzled his face into the junction of your neck and shoulder. His breath tickled with each exhale, which made you squirm, but every so often he’d place a chaste kiss on the skin there and you’d forget why you wanted to ask him to move.

In the morning, when you woke up to his alarm clock blaring a local radio station, you realized it was the first time he’d let you stay the night. 

SPRING 2007

After your second drink, you decided that Art Donaldson had hung you out to dry for the last time. Well, probably the last time. 

Most likely not the last time. 

Knowing yourself, you’d be clinging to his side like a lost puppy in a few weeks’ time, if you even had the dignity to give it that long. The second his attention turned to you again, you knew you’d be absolutely relishing in the special affection he always gave you when he was experiencing Tashi-related withdrawal.

You were so stupidly in love (or in lust, or in whatever) with him that you’d accept just about anything he could throw at you. 

No labels, just casual? Fine. Ignoring you all night then conveniently remembering you exist when he’s horny and ready to go back to his dorm? Whatever. You’re game. 

You’d gone to every match, watched a few practices. Helped him study for exams, let him borrow the notecards you’d painstakingly written over the course of the semester. Jesus, you even wrote a few essays for him when his schedule got crowded and he just couldn’t manage.

All you asked in return was a date to a stupid formal, and he ditched you last minute for Tashi. Again. And you couldn’t even get pissed about it without feeling guilty, because she’d fucking gotten injured and it wasn’t her fault that the guy you were into was carrying a torch for her instead.

“You’ve been staring down the Reese’s Pieces for the last five minutes.” The familiar voice startled you from your sulking. The world filtered back in suddenly— the blaring music, the smell of cigarettes and pot, the chatter of people wandering in and out of neighboring dorms. When you turned, Patrick Zweig was leaning against the vending machine beside you, carrying a large Tennis bag and backpack on both of his shoulders. “Do you need five bucks?”

“Shouldn’t you be with Tashi?” You asked, brows furrowed with confusion. “I heard about her match. I just figured that you’d…“ You trailed off as you noticed the thinly veiled kicked-puppy expression he wore. “Oh.”

He swallowed and nodded. “Yeah, that’s… it’s over. Did you want the Reese’s, or not?” 

“No,” you shook your head and laughed. “I just needed…” you trailed off. What was it you needed, again?

You needed Art. A date to the formal. You needed to feel desirable and cared for. You needed him to get his head out of his ass and just fucking commit. You needed to tell Art to fuck off and find another groupie. You needed…

“Another drink?” Patrick suggested.

You nodded eagerly like that’s what you’d been thinking all along. “Yes. Another drink.” You paused, glancing at his bags. “Do you want to drop your things in my room first? My roommate is in Iowa, or something. She won’t mind.”

Your dorm was decorated in shades of pink and green, with a ruffled bedspread and faux fur pillows and blankets. You bent down to retrieve two bottles of Smirnoff Ice from a mini fridge. Patrick did his best to look away like a gentleman would. 

Well, he did his best. It wasn’t exactly his fault that his options were to look at your tight jeans or the bulletin board above your desk that was essentially an Art Donaldson shrine. 

Pretty pink push pins held up a photo of the two of you after one of his matches, both beaming at the camera. Then there were little notes he’d written you in his boyish scrawl. Tickets to movies you’d gone to see and tickets to his matches. 

“Here,” you said, drawing his attention back to you, thankfully in an upright position. You’d already popped the bottle caps off the radioactive blue drink you handed him. You were chewing your lip shyly, sweetly. “It’s kind of pathetic, isn’t it?”

“What?” He took a drink and nearly grimaced at the sweetness. After he finished it, he’d need to go find something stronger.

You sighed and took a long drink yourself. “I dunno, the whole… thing. Art.” You absentmindedly toyed with the hem of your shirt. “I mean, what girl with any self-respect lets a guy just screw her for months with no commitment?”

“Maybe self-respect is overrated.” He laughed and stepped closer. “Full disclosure? I only came here hoping that I could fuck someone and spend the night in their dorm. Free booze was a plus.”

“We’re in the same boat then,” You said, gazing up at him through your lashes. “We’re both jilted lovers who need a distraction.”

You tilted the bottom of the bottle up, chugging down the contents. When you were done, you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and rolled your neck out. “Bottoms up,” you said with a coy smile. “Let’s find something stronger.”

——

An hour later, something by the Pussycat Dolls was blaring through a set of speakers in a darkened common area. You were the fun kind of tipsy, where you started to care less about everyone else and just found yourself buzzed in that light, easy kind of way. You danced to the beat without a care in the world while Patrick sat on the arm of a couch and nursed his beer. 

His eyes were glued to your body as you moved, almost hypnotic beneath the red Christmas lights that had been stapled around the ceiling. Your shirt had ridden up, revealing a sliver of stomach that you either didn’t notice or didn’t care to cover up. 

The only thought running through his head? Art was a fucking idiot. 

You glanced over at him and nodded for him to join you. He didn’t move, so, not one to give up, you joined him over on the couch. When he went for a drink, you tipped up the bottom of the beer can and forced him to finish it, even as it spilled past his lips and down his chin. 

“Thanks,” he deadpanned, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. 

With a pleased smile, you grabbed his wrist and pulled him into the middle of the room to dance.

He shook his head as you tried to make him dance— your hands on his hips, pushing and pulling and trying and failing to make him move. “No, no. I don’t dance,” he explained, as firmly as he could stand to be.

“Because you can’t? Or because you think you’re too cool?” You asked, raising a brow. He rolled his eyes, a smile playing at his lips. “C’mon, if you dance, I’ll tell you a secret.”

That did make him laugh. “What are you, five?”

With a shrug, you took his hands into yours and moved them to your hips. There was a hesitance in his touch, at first. But then his fingers splayed against exposed skin, and you were so warm. Your hips began moving to the beat beneath his hands. “See? We’re dancing,” you said, peering up at him through long lashes.

You looked genuinely victorious when he finally started dancing… kind of. It was less of an action and more of an acceptance. It had been abundantly obvious since the moment he walked into your dorm room that you wanted to end the night with him. Maybe it was because you thought it would hurt Art, or maybe it was because he was there and he was feeling the exact same things you were.

He’d done his best to resist out of some lingering sense that he could repair things with Tashi, and the hope that maybe Art’s spite would fade and they’d be friends again.

Despite skipping the whole college thing, Patrick wasn’t an idiot. He knew better. The second Tashi fell on that court, both of those doors slammed in his face.

And you were so close to him that he could smell the liquor on your breath. And Victoria’s Secret body spray. Mostly the liquor, though. He was barely moving, but you— you were something else. Hips moving against the thigh he’d slotted between your legs, arms trailing up his chest so you could sling them around his neck, pulling yourself impossibly closer. Even though you were grinding against each other like two horny middle-schoolers at their first dance, he’d had enough to drink that he didn’t really give a fuck. When he moved his hands from your hips to grab your ass, you gasped and laughed like it was the best thing in the world.

Your body moved so effortlessly that anything he could have possibly done would’ve looked clunky and clumsy. He groaned when you brushed against him just right, and he could tell by your smug expression that you knew exactly how you were affecting him. 

You leaned in, chest to chest. “Can I tell you the secret now?” You whispered, lips brushing against the line of his jaw. He swallowed hard and nodded. “I think it’d be a bad idea for us to fuck. We’re both in a bad place.”

“Mhmm. Bad idea,” he echoed. He wanted to reach out and grab your jaw, to tilt your face up and kiss you. One of your hands had slipped beneath the hem of his (Tashi’s) shirt, just barely teasing the skin there. It made him shiver and lean into the heat of your touch.

“But I still want to.” You sounded so earnest, so needy. Like you’d take anything he’d give you and thank him for it. “We can use each other to feel better, right? Just a nice, warm body and a rush of dopamine.”

It was exactly what Patrick had come to the fucking dorm rager for. To feel wanted and desired. For someone to look at him like he wasn’t actively failing at the one thing he was supposed to be the best at. 

But he was good at other things.

You guided him through the crowded hallway, way more packed than they had been before you’d started dancing. It was getting later, more people were falling for the siren song of R&B and beer. You were a siren of a different making— with much more dangerous consequences than a hangover.

It almost felt wrong to be back in your innocent, frilly little dorm with the intention of fucking your brains out. But the looks you were giving him were enough proof that he wasn’t the only pervert. Before you could get too far, he pinned you up against the door, displacing a dry-erase calendar in the process. 

You glanced down, eyes flitting towards the hearts around tomorrow’s date, anticipating the formal that Art had flaked on. Without looking back, you kicked the dry-erase board out of the way, a problem for later. 

His lips met yours in a messy clash— teeth knocking slightly until you found a rhythm with each other. Patrick Zweig kissed like he’d been at war for fucking years and had just returned home. He kissed like he had crawled out of the desert and the only promise of water could be found on your tongue. 

You’d never been kissed with that level of need and desperation— that desire— and you fucking loved it. The taste of his tongue licking into your mouth, the rumble of a moan against your own lips.

His hands were moving beneath your shirt, pushing it up as he went. A pretty whine slipped past your spit-slick lips as he squeezed your tits over your bra. Your hands stayed busy undoing his jeans. He moaned into your mouth when your fingers barely brushed against the bulge through the denim. 

“That feel good?” You teased, practically breathing the words into his lungs as you slipped your hand into his boxers. He groaned in response as your hand wrapped around him and pumped slowly.  There was something addicting about his need— you relished in the pulse of him, warm and bucking into your grip. And you wanted more. You wanted to be the one to make him come undone. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

His head fell back slightly as you brushed your thumb along his tip, the movement accompanied by another soft groan. The way you peered up at him with an earnest need to please made hot desire thrum within him.

“You could start by taking these clothes off,” he said, fingers roaming to tug at the strap of your bra. You started to move, slipping your hand from his boxers. Then you stopped.

“You’re not gonna help?” You asked coyly, goosebumps forming where his fingers trailed along your side, teasing at the band of the bra. 

That made a tiny smirk turn at his lips. “Does Art help?” It shouldn’t have turned him on— that little flash of longing for Art in your eyes. But it did. You nodded, shifting slightly to encourage more of Patrick’s touch. “Lift your arms.”

As easy as anything, you obeyed. No banter, no push and pull for control. It was so different than what he had with Tashi (who he shouldn’t have been thinking about), and he couldn’t help but wonder if that’s how it always was for you and Art (who he shouldn’t have been thinking about either). 

He tossed your shirt to the side and moved a single hand to the clasp of your bra, undoing it with a quick movement that he’d perfected at sixteen. Painstakingly slow, he pushed each strap down your arms, until it fell at your feet and exposed your tits to the overzealous AC of the Stanford dorms. 

Your nipples pebbled in the cool air, and his mouth watered in a near-Pavlovian response to the sight. His hands moved back to your chest, so he could thumb over the sensitive buds and relish in the way you shivered.

The wood of the door was cold against your shoulders as you arched into his touch. Manicured nails fumbled with the button to your jeans— you twisted and shimmied them off before kicking them to the side.

Before you could react, he picked you up and carried you over to the bed. A grin played at your lips as he practically dropped you onto it, making a decorative pillow fall to the floor. 

“It was only, like, five steps,” you said with a laugh. Patrick shrugged and made quick work of his clothes. You sat up on your elbows to watch him shuck off his pants, then awkwardly hop on one foot at a time to remove his shoes and socks.

When he finally joined you on the bed, he was clad only in his boxers, which were sporting an almost comically large tent. He positioned himself over you, that shit-eating grin ever present on his face. “Can I go down on you?”

You laughed lightly in disbelief. “Are you serious right now?”

He nodded. “As a heart attack.” He nuzzled against your jaw teasingly. “C’mon, lemme make you feel good, okay? I live for this shit.”

You giggled, pushing his face away. “Yeah. Fuck. You can.”

He trailed his lips down your jaw, then your sternum. He stopped only briefly to suck each nipple into his mouth, making you squirm and arch into him. Your hand moved into his hair, and he moaned against your tit as you tugged slightly. 

You watched him kiss down your stomach and peel your panties down your legs with his teeth through half-lidded eyes. Your cunt clenched around nothing as he slowly kissed up one leg.

The sight made your stomach flip— the sheer desire of it all. Your mind flickered to Tashi, as it seemed to do more and more. Tashi got this same sight, felt the same lips on her skin, and heard the same groans and pants. You could’ve laughed at the sheer absurdity of it all. At that moment, with Patrick on top of you, you were closer to Tashi than Art could even dream of.

A tap on the inside of your thigh was his wordless way of telling you to open up for him, to get out of your head and come back to earth. Your tummy fluttered as you spread your legs more and he slotted himself there with an arm slung across your stomach. 

“Fuck,” he said lowly, peering up at you. “You get this wet from just kissing?”

Heat burned in your cheeks at his obvious amusement, but you could tell he loved how responsive you were. His tongue traced you from your hole to your clit, making you cry out and twist your fingers into his curls. Quick, teasing flicks against your clit made your thighs tremble and squeeze around his shoulders. You were so fucking sensitive that it made him want to tear you apart.

It was messy— a sloppy mix of his spit and your arousal as he made out with your pussy. His nose brushed against your clit as he nuzzled deeper into you, moaning as his fervor was rewarded with more of your juices spilling onto his tongue. 

There was no method or precision to it, even though you were quite sure he could’ve had you coming undone beneath his fingers in no time at all. Patrick relished in every tiny reaction— in feeling your thighs around his head and your fingers in his hair. Relished in the taste of you on his tongue and the feeling of your slick smeared across his face. 

Your back was arching off the bed, nails digging just shy of painfully into his scalp. 

He opened you up with one finger, then a second. Your cunt accepted the intrusion with ease, like you were made for it. For him. He crooked his fingers just so and you cried out pathetically. He pressed there, constant and firmly and your fingers tugged harder on his hair, moans increasing in pitch as your breaths came in pants. 

“I’m— I— fuck—“ words failed you as his lips formed a seal around your clit and he sucked, making spots dance across your vision. In the absence of words, all you could manage were fucked out sobs and pitiful little whines.

Slick walls fluttered around his fingers, and your clit pulsed against his tongue. You were so easy to get worked up— a toy for him to wind up and set into motion. You came with a moan that would’ve made a weaker man cum inside of his boxers, your cunt spasming around the intrusion of his fingers. 

When he sat back and cleaned his fingers in his mouth, you were watching through half-lidded, hazy eyes. Tiny pieces of hair were plastered to your face and forehead, and you gave a breathless giggle as you looked up at him. 

“Holy shit,” you said with a grin as he shucked off his boxers and kicked them off somewhere across the room. 

“Feel good?” He asked, and pressed a kiss to your hip bone. You nodded wordlessly, feeling dizzy with need. “Gonna give me another one?”

“Yeah,” you said breathlessly, peering up at him with wide eyes. The tip of his nose was shiny with your arousal, which made warmth spread across your cheeks. With a sheepish laugh, you reached up and wiped it away with your thumb. There wasn’t much you could do about the mess on his mouth and chin. “You’re all messy.”

He kissed you slow— leaving his tongue against yours, making you taste yourself mixed with his spit. It was less of a kiss than a series of slow laves of his tongue against yours. It felt dirty, and a little gross, but you couldn’t help but relish in it. You’d never kissed Art like that, would’ve never even dreamed of it. Patrick was an entirely different animal. 

You stayed like that for a while— just completely lost in the feel of him warm on top of you, grinding his cock against your cunt as he planted messy kisses to your lips. 

“Condom?” He mumbled the words against your lips when he finally grew impatient.

“Mhmm. Bedside table.”

He fumbled inside the drawer, grabbing glasses cleaning wipes two seperate times before he finally found a foil packet in the bottom of the drawer.  

He held it between two fingers, an amused smile playing on his lips. “You sure this’ll fit me? I’m bigger than Art.”

You rolled your eyes. “Not by that much.”

“Where it counts, though.” His smirk was smarmy as he tore open the foil with his teeth and rolled the condom down his length. He spat in his hand and stroked himself as he peered down at you, like he hadn’t quite decided how he wanted you yet. 

“Turn over,” he finally said with a pat to the meat of your thigh. You did as he said, almost hesitant as you turned over and settled onto your forearms, arching your back slightly. “Does Art ever fuck you like this?”

He held the head of his cock at your entrance, teasing you with the tiniest amount of pressure. You took in a shaky breath and shifted, eager for more that he wasn’t going to give you yet. “Do you have to bring him up right now?”

No. He knew he really didn’t, but he couldn’t help himself at the same time. The thought of his Art in this same bed with you made it all so much hotter for him. He wanted to know how Art had fucked you, he wanted every detail burned in his brain. He wanted to be better, or maybe just be there with the two of you. 

It had gotten close. Once. Art was definitely fingering you under a blanket while the three of you watched a movie on his laptop across the room. Patrick’s thigh was touching yours— he could feel the way your muscles tensed and shook as Art played with you. He was close enough to hear the hitch of your breath. 

And if that hadn’t been enough to give it away, Art’s stupid fucking smirk and the obvious way his arm was moving would have.

He didn’t do anything then, but maybe he should’ve. 

“I’ll take that as a no.” He was slow as he sank into you, inch by inch. It could’ve been the position, or maybe his cocky bravado was completely founded, but he did feel bigger than you were used to. A soft moan was punched from your lips when he was finally buried to the hilt— your breath came in soft pants as you adjusted to the feeling of him. 

With your face pressed into your pillows, each breath you took flooded your senses with the smell of Art’s cologne. You moaned softly, eyes fluttering shut as your thoughts were overwhelmed with him.

“Shit, you’re fuckin’ tight,” he groaned. His fingers dimpled your skin where he held onto you. He moved one hand to rub the base of your spine in a way that could probably have been tender, on another day. You moaned pathetically into the pillows. “What? You need something?” 

One shallow, teasing thrust made your toes curl. “More,” was all you could manage.

“Can you take it?” Patrick cooed, smugness was practically dripping from his tongue. “Because I can go slow if you need—“

“You’re such an asshole. Just fuck m—”

A rough snap of Patrick’s hips cut you off suddenly. You cried out, grasping onto the bedspread feebly as he began to fuck you in earnest. 

Each thrust made the cheap, university-provided bed frame slam against the wall. The decorations you had hung up rattled, threatening to tumble right onto the floor and shatter, but neither of you even noticed. The moans slipping past your lips were pornographic.

But the sounds escaping you were nothing compared to the noises Patrick was making. Art had made an off-handed comment, once, about how much of a slut Patrick could be. You hadn’t really seen why until you got to hear the desperate, debauched noises he could make.

You slipped a hand between your thighs to rub at your clit and the feeling stole the air from your lungs. Your eyes rolled back, ass jiggling in time with each thrust.

Through it all, the memory of Art in this bed clung to you. Art, burying himself in the soft, wet heat between your thighs, flushed down to his chest and panting softly. His hungry kisses, melting sweet on your tongue like cotton candy. The whines that slipped past his lips, better than the prettiest music you could imagine. 

With each brutal thrust of Patrick’s cock into you, he punched out soft ah, ah, ahs from your lips. In your head, you just heard Art, Art, Art. Maybe that’s what you meant to say. 

You were probably in love with him. You were fucking his best friend. And it wasn’t even that simple. Patrick and Art and Tashi and somewhere between it all, you lingered. It was a giant clusterfuck of feelings and lust that you’d somehow tangled yourself inside of. Wanting someone so much, you want whoever has them just as badly. 

Maybe everything would’ve been a lot cleaner if you’d just locked the four of you into a room and stayed until every bit of tension had been fucked out. The idea of it all made you moan softly into the pillows. 

Patrick pulled you up suddenly, back flush against his chest as he continued to fuck into you. One hand grabbed at your jaw, turning you so he could press his lips to yours again, and the other squeezed at your tits. His mouth did a perfect job of muffling your moans— Patrick relished in feeling your pretty whines vibrate against his lips. 

“You feel so fucking perfect.” His words made heat flutter through you. “Need t’ feel you cum again. You have it in you, yeah? I can feel it.”

You nodded, eager to please. Pleasure was lapping at every nerve, lightning-hot. Your fingers rubbed faster at your clit as he pounded up into you. The whines escaping you were pathetic as your body crawled closer and closer to the edge. 

“Close,” you gasped out. Patrick licked into your open mouth, kissing you sloppily as you set a punishing pace on your poor, oversensitive clit. “So close— f-fuck—“

Your orgasm hit you suddenly. You clawed at his arm with your free hand, desperately seeking purchase as euphoria pulsed through your veins. 

“That’s it,” he groaned, his breath hot against your jaw. “Fuck— squeezin’ me so tight I can barely move— god—“

Your eyes were half-lidded as he worked you through it, rhythm only just beginning to falter as his finish approached. He pushed you back onto your stomach, manhandling your hips so your back was arched just like he wanted. 

You were reduced to whimpers and whines by the time he finally came— buried as deep as he could get, grip bruising on your hips. A few shallow thrusts were all he could manage before he pulled out, collapsing on beside you. 

You were catching your breath while he disposed of the condom in the cute trash can beside your bed, filled with gummy snack wrappers and broken pencils and old class notes. It felt like sacrilege. He laid back down, and you pulled a throw blanket over the two of you. 

With his head against the pillows, you wondered if he could also sense the phantom of Art’s presence there in the bed. Somewhere between you, forcing distance.

“So, when do you leave for your next tournament?” You asked. Unconsciously, you reached out to play with his hair, the same way you did to Art in times like these. “Soon, I bet. You usually don’t stay long.”

“Trying to get rid of me?” He asked, a tiny smile playing at his lips. His chest was still heaving with exertion. 

You shook your head. “I don’t want to get rid of you, Patrick.” He melted into your touch, eyes fluttering shut. 

In the morning, you’d wake up squished against Patrick’s side with the taste of sugary alcohol on your tongue. When you picked up your phone to see three missed calls from Art, it was easier to pretend that you hadn’t seen them at all.

thanks for reading :) if you enjoyed, please lmk by sending an ask, or whatever you wanna do <3

[thevoidstaredback]

"If I turn around and there's a hero, vigilante, anti hero, villain, anything or anyone related in anyway to the Justice League, I'm going to fucking lose."

It was quiet for a second, then, "Don't turn around?"

Red fucking Robin. "What did I just say?" Phantom turned on his heel to face the young vigilante.

The kid threw his hands up, "I told you not to turn around!"

"And yet here we are," he crossed his arms. "The hell do you want?"

"You seem awfully snippy today."

"Seeing as you and everyone under the sun has been stalking me, trying to get answers to questions I'm not going to answer, I think you can excuse my attitude."

With a huff, Red Robin also crossed his arms. "How do you know what I'm going to ask if no one else has been able to talk to you?"

"Because living beings are all the same. Curiosity of the unknown drags you around by your ear." Phantom turned back to continue walking away, "Now go away."

The kid matched his pace. "No way,"

His eyebrow twitched ever so slightly. "I have a meeting soon, kid. You can't come along." That was a total lie. He had nothing going on that demanded his attention now that Constantine had ditched him after getting the demon under control. Maybe he could drop by Fawcett and visit Billy?

"No you don't." This damn kid-! "You've been wandering aimlessly for the past hour."

Phantom turned again to face the vigilante. "First of all, stalking people is hella creepy. Second of all, my schedule is none of your damn business."

"Careful there, kid," Red Robin smirked, "You'll get scolded for having a potty mouth."

"I'm thirty-fucking-eight!"

"You're literally fourteen."

Phantom closed his eyes. "Nocturn give me patience," he then looked Red Robin directly in the eye, "We've had this conversation. I'm dead. I don't physically age. That doesn't change the fact that I have walked this planted for thirty-eight years. Is that simple enough for you to understand or do I need to dumb it down for you?"

Red Robin blinked, his mouth agape. What? Did he just- The nerve! The audacity! "I'll have you know," he huffed, "I'm smarter than Batman."

"He tell you that himself?"

"Yes." It was one of the only times Batman had ever praised him, so that interaction was held particularly close.

Phantom looked Red Robin up and down, his expression reading both 'are-you-serious' and 'what-do-want?-a-medal?' Without a word, he turned back to his path and began his march anew. Any attempts at conversation from Red Robin was ignored, much to the younger's chagrin. Maybe he'd go away if he ignored him long enough.

Phantom and Red Robin wandered for the better part of an hour, not so much as a word passing between them. Neither stopped for any reason, and neither broke the set pace. It could almost be considered a friendly stroll through the city, if one ignored the slight apprehension surrounding the two.

Red Robin took this time to observe Phantom. He'd never spent too much time around anyone from the JLD who wasn't Raven, so he took the opportunity to get to know another on the team.

Phantom insisted that he was thirty-eight, not fourteen, and that the reason he looks as young as he does is because he looks like he did when he died. Not a comforting thought in the slightest. He knew that, though, when B had briefed him on all the members of or associated with the Justice League.

His powerset was almost completely unknown. They'd all seen him use a flight/levitation ability, as well as some form of density shifting and a healing factor, but Red Robin was more than sre that Phantom had more up his sleeve than that. He worked as a part of the JLD team, so he had to have some magical understanding or capabilities. But Raven wouldn't tell him if she knew, no matter how much he pestered her.

Looking at the kid now, Red Robin seriously wondered if Phantom had a civilian disguise. Ether white hair, toxic green eyes, the glow he seems to give off, and the contrasting bright white and vantablack suit and gloves he wore could not be easy to hide.

There was also a slight sense of unease Red Robin felt when looking at or being around Phantom for a long time. He hadn't noticed it before, but now it was as obvious as a neon sign. It was a strange mix of Uncanny Valley and sinking horror. Why was he feeling like this?

Phantom stopped in his tracks in a dead end alley. Without turning around he said, "Alright, spit it out. What do you want to ask?"

Red Robin hesitated for a moment. Surely it couldn't be that easy? Was Phantom really going to answer his questions? He shook his head to snap himself out of it.

"Come on, kid," Phantom pulled a piece of chalk from his front pocket. "I don't have all day."

Red Robin wanted to scoff because he most certainly did have all day. But, he pushed it aside. He was about to get answers that not even the Justice League could get! He decided to start of easy. "When did you die?"

"Try again." was the growled response.

"What?"

"I said 'Try again'."

Okay, okay. Touchy. "Why'd you join the Justice League?"

"I was bored." It was clipped. Phantom's on edge. Why?

"What're the rest of your powers? I know you have more than what you've shown everyone."

Phantom walked to the wall and started to draw a door on it with the chalk. "Next question."

Red Robin rolled his eyes. "Fine. How did you die?"

Every movement from Phantom froze. Every minute, involuntary twitch, even the telling signs of breathing. For a long minute, nothing happened and Red Robin had the dawning sense that he'd just asked something he really shouldn't have.

Phantom drew a circle in the rectangle he'd drawn on the wall, completing the door. "I'm going to give you a piece of advice that you seem to have completely glossed over." The piece of chalk was hidden away as he gripped the now 3D door handle. "If you value your life, don't ask the dead how they died." He opened the door and stepped through before looking back at the red clad vigilante. "They won't be so nice about it." Then, the door closed and the chalk erased itself.

Part 6 Part 8

Tag List:

@zaiothe4th @someonebored0100 @wolfeyedwitch @angelheartgamer @nymanders @princessbelix @luminanightfall @kgne-k @bianca-hooks123 @reigning-catsanddogs @sassywombatranchhorse @dontfightmecauseillcry @soul-lime @anarinette @serasvictoria02 @the-chaos-goblin-child @confusedshades @caicie @fantasticstoryteller @randomshtickidk @itsberrydreemurstuff @blueliac @i-love-mangoes @nymanders @highimpactemotions @anarinette @sleepingdead96

[gremlingottoosilly]

Konig calling reader ‘ma’ or ‘housewife’ or ‘mama’ while they fuck cause he wants her to be a housewife so much 🤭

Having some bright-eyes girlfriend who is totally completely independent and only sleeps with him because she wants to get the edge off before her big promotion, and absolutely doesn't want for him to lock her in the bedroom and fuck the ambition out of her. I don't think that Konig would ever get in with a severe corporate no-bullshit girlie because strong women intimidate him and he wants someone soft, dumb, and dependent...but if you're just at the start of your journey, if you just convinced yourself that you want to work and not be a traditional housewife...he can help you get rid of that dumb idea. Would love to. He will fuck you through important emails, not allowing you to take your work home - he will shower you with gifts and praises when you ditch some corporate event or an internship meeting. Would eat your cunt for hours so you would cave and promise that you'll ditch your work to be with full-time wifey. If you're scared of moving in too fast, he will just propose immediately - he doesn't understand that you might not want to be serious with a guy who called you his perfect proper housewifey three hours into the date, he just thinks you're intimidated because he can come off as this bad military husband with three mistresses kind of vibe. He isn't, he is just a loser, honestly! He will tamper with your birth control and isn't above getting you pregnancy for his goal - he doesn't want children, but seeing you so weak and dependent on him...he will even consider retiring - just so he could see your adorable waddling form even more.

[mrsjellymunson]

Start Something

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: Eddie helps you generate a new D&D character, but that’s not the only thing that gets started that day

WC: ~2.5k

C/W: 18+, MDNI! NSFW? Physical flirting and teasing, heavy petting, sort of in public (nobody notices). Smut-adjacent? Thigh riding. Swearing. Nothing overly explicit, but it does get heated. Eddie and reader are both over 18. Trope: oh no, there aren’t enough seats, where will you sit? No y/n, one pet name. No physical descriptions of reader other than she wears a skirt (of unspecified appearance).

A/N: Should I be working on parts for my outstanding series? Yes. Would this not leave me alone until I wrote it down? Also yes. I had fun creating a new character in a different RPG and I have no idea whether this is how D&D works, so if it’s not, let’s just pretend, okay? 😆

I have a general taglist now, let me know if you’d like to be on it 🖤

My masterlist

Eddie can’t believe his luck. You’re pretty (gorgeous, actually), insanely intelligent and have, for some as yet indecipherable reason, decided that you want to play D&D. With a load of nerdy teens. And him.

You’ve joined in with a couple of short campaigns at school, seeming to enjoy them immensely and fitting in well with the group, bantering with the boys and bonding with Erica over your shared ‘take no shit’ attitudes. At first Eddie wasn't sure how that dynamic would work, but you slipped easily into letting the younger girl show you the ropes, and Erica is clearly enjoying having more female energy around.

Eddie knows that creating a new character is one of your favourite things to do. He’d never admit it, but it’s one of his favourite things to watch, too. He adores the sparkle in your eyes, your creative brain and how excited and animated you get when you come up with new ideas. Sometimes they’re sketchy, or even impossible, which he finds hugely endearing. He also loves how you’ll always check in with him, asking his advice and respecting his opinion.

This weekend he’s running a oneshot at his trailer for the younger members and you. New characters, novel plot, the works. The plan is to create new characters in the morning, and play the game in the afternoon.

This’ll be the first time you’ve been to his home, or seen him anywhere outside of school, and Eddie’s nervous as all fuck.

He couched it as ‘a good opportunity to develop a greater understanding of the game’, but he definitely has an ulterior motive for inviting you here.

So far, he’s taken every opportunity he can to make you laugh, sit near you, even touch you. Creating scenarios where a subtle hug, or even a playful tickle is somehow appropriate. He covers it quickly by immediately doing it to someone else, hoping you won’t spot the bulge in his pants and the fact that he can’t stop looking at you.

He’s not sure for how long he can keep it up. He wants so much more, and it won’t be long before he either loses it, takes it too far, or, worst case scenario, you notice he’s being a total creep and ditch the group because of it.

He’s been trying to muster the balls to ask you out for weeks, practicing lines and imagining scenarios, but he’s found it more difficult to plan than even the most complex of his campaigns.

And although it’s unlikely given the crowd of nerds that’ll be around, he couldn’t miss an opportunity to be in your company. He thought that maybe, just maybe, he’d manage to get you somewhat alone and do it today.

He’s tidied up the trailer as subtly as he can, doing all the dishes and straightening Wayne’s caps, hoping the others won’t notice and ask him awkward questions. But he’s jittery and anxious, terrified that you’ll take one look at where and how he lives and decide you want nothing more to do with him…

Eddie has no idea that you’re just as nervous as he is.

You’ve enjoyed the Hellfire campaigns so far, but haven’t really managed to get all that close to the Dungeon Master, much to your chagrin. Sure, the game is enormous fun and you love all the members and how welcoming they’ve been. But the DM? Holy hell, he’s hot as sin, and being able to spend time around the larger-than-life metal-lover only adds to your enjoyment of the sessions. But you can’t imagine it’ll ever go any further than that. You doubt that a geeky D&D novice who he’s hardly spoken to is his idea of the perfect girlfriend…

But god, the physical touches? Christ. It’s as much as you can do to hold it together. You’ve shared a few celebratory hugs, and he’s even tickled you a couple of times, all of which you’ve enjoyed far more than you’d let on, and filed away in your memory for retrieval when you’re alone at night in your bed. But you know that he’s like this with everyone, and are under no illusions that you’re special. So you relish each and every contact, wishing there could be more.

What if he looks at you for too long with those gorgeous, huge, chocolate-brown eyes? And what if you forget how to speak? It’s already happened an embarrassing amount of times, but you’ve managed to pass it off as being stumped because you’re a beginner. You don’t know for how much longer that excuse is gonna fly.

And, if all that wasn’t already enough to send your anxiety levels skyrocketing, you’re also acutely aware that you haven't spent time with any of the group outside of school as yet. You’re worried that you’re going to ruin their social dynamic, or mess up the game. Or embarrass yourself with no easy way to exit, having to wallow in your shame until the mums come back later to pick you all up. Your spiralling makes you realise that although it was really kind of Mrs Wheeler to offer you a lift, you’re now really wishing you’d brought your own car…

All kinds of anxious thoughts are running through your mind, from what if your ideas are stupid, to what if everyone (okay, specifically Eddie) dislikes the cookies you’ve baked??

Neither of you should’ve worried.

As you enter his trailer, Eddie seems a little flustered, running a ringed hand through his gorgeous chestnut waves and unnecessarily straightening a pile of magazines on the coffee table. He smooths down his (new) black tee (that he totally didn’t buy especially for this occasion), and you pay it no mind, assuming he’s just always like this with visitors, and is excited for the campaign.

You barely glance around Eddie’s home, smiling softly at the trinkets you spot, and offering to help plate up the snacks in the kitchen area. You don’t look uncomfortable, and you certainly don’t pass judgment. Eddie eyes you as indirectly as he can, noticing the unusual skirt you’ve got on (that you totally totally didn’t choose specifically for today). He likes it.

Just like at school, you slot easily into the melee of pencils, paper, dice and snacks. Everyone loves your home baked cookies, including Eddie, and Erica even badgers you for the recipe.

Eddie thinks you couldn’t be any more perfect.

You think this isn’t so bad after all, and relax a little.

The morning’s character building is going well, the fact that it’s a oneshot not diminishing anyone’s efforts or attention to detail.

You still haven’t quite got the hang of the dice and numbers parts, always asking for Eddie’s help with that. His help, not any of the others, he muses with a certain amount of pride and delight. (Selfishly, part of him secretly hopes you never get the hang of it, and will always need to seek his input.)

With you now added to the group, there aren’t enough seats at Eddie’s modest dining table. Nobody notices. Initially Dustin and Will are deep in a discussion on Eddie’s battered sofa, and Mike and Lucas are rifling through the fridge, both at that ‘hollow legs’ stage of teen development and constantly ravenous.

Your character’s almost done, and you just want to clarify a few things, so you ask across the table,

“Eddie? Can I bring this over for you to check please?”

He waves you over, putting on a fake English accent and saying,

“Of course you may, my dear. You know I’m always happy to assist my flock.”

You chuckle lightly at his endearing foolishness as you get up from your place next to Erica, taking your character sheet over to Eddie for his perusal. Behind you, the younger players all convene at the table to share their progress, and all the seats become filled.

With no free spots near him, and assuming you won’t be here for long, Eddie pats his leg absentmindedly and says, “Sit here, lemme see.”

You end up on his lap, facing sideways at ninety degrees.

You initially turn towards him and bring your sheet between you, but there’s not enough room for him to properly examine it, so you turn the other way and lay it on the table in front of him, turning so your back is to him, your legs straddling one of his knees. He leans forward and begins to check it over, confirming some details and asking for more particulars on others.

Eddie’s been admiring your enthusiasm and level of engagement all morning, and he’s impressed by the depth of information you’ve already managed to accumulate.

You’re absorbed with your new character, getting excited and gesticulating wildly. Ideas bounce easily between you and Eddie, his face smiling softly and his dimples popping as he gets to see you like this.

It doesn’t escape him, however, that you’re also bouncing on… him. He flushes a little, and hopes you don’t perceive it.

As you gesture at a particularly thorny issue on your paper, it dawns on Eddie exactly what parts of you are in contact with him, albeit through multiple layers of fabric. The softness of your thighs and the heat from your core against his leg fully absorb him for a moment, and he has to ask you to repeat yourself. You don’t seem to mind, assuming it was the general clamour in the room that meant he couldn’t hear you. That same clamour covers the sound of him awkwardly clearing his throat and gulping loudly.

It occurs to him that he’s never experienced anything… like this. Occasional hookups in the woods or after gigs at The Hideout are great and everything, but he’s never before felt like he has a literal, real-life angel sitting on his lap.

And you? You are slowly realising how nice Eddie’s lap feels beneath you. It’s warm and solid, and the denim of his dark jeans feels pleasantly rough on the skin of your legs where your skirt’s ridden up. There’s a pressure against your most intimate areas that’s generating a warm feeling of pleasure in your core. You’re trying to concentrate, but it’s not easy.

It takes a few more moments for you to catch up to where Eddie is, and you register that you’re essentially riding Eddie’s thigh each time you move.

Your lips roll inwards and you swallow deeply, closing your eyes for a moment, trying to compose yourself. It doesn’t help, and only serves to focus your attention even more fully on the delicious sensations beneath your legs. This is the closest you’ve ever been to your Dungeon Master, and for the longest time. And you can’t help how flustered it’s making you.

Embarrassed, you cough and go to stand, but quickly see that there’s nowhere for you to go. Eddie scans the room and notices your predicament, and, in a broken voice that’s almost unbearably soft, tells you, “It’s okay, Princess. You can stay here.”

Fuck. A pet name? You enjoyed that, perhaps a little too much. If you were being rational you could put it down to Eddie referencing your new character, who happens to be an aristocratic mage. But right now? Right now, you’re not feeling particularly rational.

You slowly sit back down, but as you do so Eddie shifts his position, causing you to spread your knees a bit wider than they were and land further up his leg, giving you even more contact with his thigh. You hope he didn’t hear the broken little hum that escaped you.

Eddie leans forward and in a voice that’s far too quiet, and far too close to your ear, he asks, “Are you… okay?”

You can barely breathe, and all you can manage in response is a tiny, squeaked, “Mhm.”

Behind you, Eddie takes a stuttering breath in, letting it out slowly before he resumes discussions with everyone else at the table.

You each become more unfettered as the morning progresses. Further not-so-accidental encounters only serve to increase the tension between you both.

At one point, you lean forwards over the table to get one of the manuals, lifting your butt from his leg. For a moment you hope there won’t be a visible wet patch on your skirt, or on his jeans. But then you wonder whether it would actually be so terrible if there was, and whether it would actually be so terrible if Eddie saw…

Eddie saw. He hums slightly, but it sounds more like a whimper, and he attempts to cover it by clearing his throat for the umpteenth time today.

He wonders whether you’re doing this on purpose, whether you have any idea what you’re doing to him.

As you settle back onto his thigh, one of Eddie’s hands travels to your hip, holding it lightly, just resting it there. A fire travels up that entire side of your body.

You wonder whether he’s doing this on purpose, whether he has any idea what he’s doing to you.

He leans forward to reach for something on the table, and this time brushes his chest against your back for far longer than is necessary. You feel his breathing against your neck speeding up, hot gasps coming from between his lips instead of controlled outbreaths through his nose.

You reach for a die, and as you sit back you half-intentionally push your core down onto Eddie’s leg just a little bit harder. God, he feels so good. And so what if you’ve moved backwards slightly, so your thigh is even further between his legs, and your butt nudges his crotch?

You definitely feel something hard pressing against your ass. The grip on your hip tightens, and Eddie dips his head forward to hide his face and stifle a moan. Christ.

You think you hear him mumble a quiet and stilted, “Sh-it.”

Eddie can barely contain himself, this morning not going at all how he could’ve even dreamed. He had no idea whether you even liked him, and was planning to sound you out and maybe manage to ask if you wanted to do something cheesy like grab milkshakes sometime.

Having you hot and wet on his lap wasn’t even on the edges of the outside of the periphery of his radar. He’s really trying to keep it together, but he’s barely maintaining a grip on his actions.

Attempting to focus, he leans forward again to explain a character point. You turn your head and look into his eyes attentively, whilst simultaneously rocking your hips ever so subtly and chewing on the inside of your bottom lip.

All at once, something shifts. Something big.

Eddie holds your gaze for way too long. Or maybe you hold his.

Maybe it doesn’t matter anymore, as you both silently acknowledge that there’s way more going on here than simple D&D advice.

Simultaneously, you both come to realise that your affections are most definitely reciprocated.

Shit, he likes me.

Fuck, she likes me back.

And then, as your eyes are locked and he sees your pupils blow wide, Eddie loses that tenuous grip.

Suddenly, both of his hands come to your hips, and he presses his forehead against one of your shoulder blades. He grips you tightly and moves you back and forth against him, squeezing, pulling, pushing, dragging. He’s keeping his movements as tiny as possible so as not to rouse the attention of the group, but what he lacks in expansiveness he more than makes up for with strength and intensity.

You think this might genuinely be the most erotic thing you’ve ever done with your clothes on. You’re hot and wet, and you barely care that you’re in a room full of people, supposedly playing a nerdy game.

Eddie keeps moving you. One exquisite movement spreads your sopping folds in your underwear, and your mouth drops open in a gasp, hand gripping the edge of the rickety table. You try to disguise your movements by shoving the end of a pencil into your mouth and hunching over your paperwork.

Eddie totally notices, and stills you. His warm palms continue to press against your hips, his strong fingertips digging into your flesh. Instead of continuing the back and forth movements, he pulls you down as hard as he can onto his lap whilst outwardly retaining his composure, turning the garbled sounds coming from his throat into encouraging noises for the group.

The two of you can barely focus anymore. Eddie hasn’t let his hands travel anywhere above the tabletop, lest his actions be seen by the others, but if your expression is even half as flustered as Eddie’s is red, somebody is going to notice something. And soon.

You take a couple of deep, steadying breaths.

You’ve already completed your character, so you decide to do a faux check in with Eddie, asking, not entirely innocently,

“Eddie? Is there anything else you’d want me to… take off?”

Turning, you add, even less subtly,

“What should I do now, Master?”

Eddie’s face screws up and his jaw clenches, and you feel the rock of his hips as he bucks his hips up underneath you, pressing his hardness into your flesh and muffling a grunt into your shoulder.

His head snaps back up suddenly and his voice becomes clear and piercing, as he inhales quickly and declares to the room, waving a hand,

“Okay, lunchtime! Everybody out!! You guys need some fresh air and I need a break. I don’t wanna see you for at least an hour, and you’d better come back with pizza! Goddit?”

The teens comply, bustling out the door, a few of them eye-rolling and grumbling something about how this is almost like being at home with their parents.

They’re still leaving as Eddie moves his face so close to you that you can feel his breath in your hairline, and his soft, pink lips tickle the edge of your ear.

In a low, velvety voice, he murmurs, in a tone that’s somehow both challenging and pleading,

“Please Princess, turn around and say that to my face...”

You smirk, and reach behind you to pick up a D12.

With all the sultriness you can muster, you raise your eyebrows and indicate for him to take it. He opens his hand, and you place it down, the tips of your fingers lightly skimming the hot, damp skin of his palm.

Looking into his eyes again, you’re relieved to discover that your power of speech remains entirely intact, as you murmur, with more confidence than you thought you possessed,

“Okay, Master. How about this? You roll, and the result is how many kisses you have to give me...”

Eddie swallows and almost chokes, sitting up straight and gently lobbing the die across the mess of paper and writing implements. His chocolate eyes don’t leave yours as it rolls and comes to a stop in the centre crease of one of his manuals. He struggles with the internal conflict of never wanting to break your gaze and a deep desire to check the number.

He has no idea where the rest of today, let alone this, is going, and he’s grateful he has at least the next hour in which to find out. But he does know one thing:

He’s never been so desperate to roll a 12 in his entire fucking life.

Thanks so much for reading!

(This might become part of an anthology of D&D-related adventures - let me know if you’d like to see more!)

Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed this, it’s honestly like throwing breadcrumbs and roses for your writers 😃🥰

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I have a general taglist now, let me know if you’d like to be on it 😃

Tags: @joejoequinnquinn @jamdoughnutmagician @curlyjoequinn @madaboutmunson @airen256 @sunshinepeachx @the-unforgivenn @skrzydlak @comeonatmebruh @jamiecb66 @80s-addict @abellmunsonmovie @definitionwanderlust @wonderlanddreamer

[spaceshipellie]

omg ellie and mother cain. may i pretty please request you wanna love me right now, you wanna get alone with me + horny dom!ellie x femme sub!reader + tlou!au + where it’s the after party of their wedding ceremony :) but ofc ellie “can’t wait” and just wanna ditch and ofc the reader is h word too cuz of that suit ellie wears like 😩😩😩😩😩😩😩😩😩

“you wanna love me right now, you wanna get alone with me”

pairing: top!ellie x femme!bottom!reader

summary/warnings: tlou au, ellie and readers wedding, touching in public, bathroom sex, fingering + eating out (r receiving), MDNI

i. can’t. cope.

the feeling that was taking over your entire body was exhilarating. you had just tied the knot with the love of your life whose forehead was currently pressed against yours, an infectious smile on her face. her hands held your hips firmly and swayed them to the music.

laughter filled the barn where people danced around you, totally consumed with the way their own brains swam with alcohol. which was lucky for you because ellie’s hands were travelling around to squeeze the life out of your ass. you yelped and giggled but she only smiled lazily and kissed you. it was a little sloppy and heated as your hands gripped the loose open collar of her shirt, pulling her closer.

“can’t believe i can call you my wife now,” she mumbled against your lips.

“ellie, you did that anyway.”

“i know, but now it’s real.” she dragged out the last word as she ran one of her hands up your body, brushing a thumb over your where your nipple poked through your dress.

you shuddered slightly at her touch. “kinda wish no one was around right now.”

“oh i don’t know, let em watch. this is our day, remember?” her words made your stomach flip.

“that’s..true,” you stuttered as she started kissing your neck.

your head fell back and your fingers tangled themselves in her hair, enjoying the warmth of her lips on your skin. you let out a little groan when her teeth grazed you which in turn made ellie groan.

“fuck,” she mumbled, tentatively slipping her fingertips up your thigh under your short dress.

“ellie,” you whined quietly.

you were so caught up in the sensation of her that you were caught off guard when she smirked against your neck and brushed her fingers over your underwear.

“ellie,” you whined again, in a slightly more warning tone than before.

“what?”

you felt a light touch over your clit then and your head fell forwards and your hands gripped her shoulders hard.

“careful,” you smiled.

“mm i wanna leave,” she said, peppering kisses from your neck to your lips.

“wouldn’t it be rude to leave our own party?”

“fuck the party.”

“ellie.”

“fine, we’ll stay here.”

she suddenly pulled her hands away and stood up straighter, giving your ass a quick slap before ushering you towards the back of the barn. hm, bathroom.

no one seemed to notice, or at least care if they did, when ellie pushed the two of you through the bathroom door, kicking it closed behind her. she was quick to shove you up against the counter, her lips hot against yours again. her hands scrambled with the bottom of your dress, pushing it up to your waist and gripping your thighs to help you jump onto the counter. both understanding that anyone could walk in at any minute, she didn’t waste any time in shoving her shirt sleeves up her forearms and pushed your underwear to the side to run a finger up you to feel how wet you were. you moaned into each others mouths as she pushed her fingers inside of you, pumping them in and out.

the thrill of being in public on top of the euphoria you felt from the entire day had worked you up so much you were eagerly grinding on ellie’s hand.

“you’ve been driving me crazy all day, you look so beautiful.”

“fuck, me too. this suit, you look so hot.” you could barely get the words out.

your foreheads were pressed together as you both looked down at where she was fucking you. she groaned before quickly dropping to her knees, pushing your legs even further apart and attaching her tongue to your cunt.

she ate you out like she’d been starved, her fingers slipping out so she could get a good grip on your thighs. seeing her face buried so deep into you, her tattoo exposed from her pushed up sleeves and her hair all messy from where your fingers had tangled it was almost too much to handle.

you slapped a hand over your mouth, practically biting down on it when your moans started getting louder. your hips were beginning to grind against her mouth and her eyes looked up at you, taking in how beautiful you looked when you were squirming under her touch like this.

“fuck, i’m gonna cum,” you gasped.

ellie continued sucking on your clit, determined to make you finish before anyone could interrupt. it wasn’t long before you were completely unraveling, your sweet cum making a mess of her tongue and chin. she smirked against your pussy before standing up, wiping her chin on the back of her hand. she adjusted your dress for you, pulling it back down into place.

“i love you, baby.”

“i love you too, els.”

“my wife,” she hazily giggled, kissing you.

“my wife,” you smiled, wrapping your arms around her neck.

“i don’t know i haven’t seen the–oh! sorry!”

the interruption caused both of your heads to snap to the door where two women stood. they nervously laughed and looked like they didn’t know wether to leave or continue going to a stall. you and ellie started laughing as you hopped off the counter to leave, her hands still constantly roaming your body.

“come on, let’s go dance,” she whispered in your ear.

[cometkenji]

Hi!

I love Doctor, Doctor, please listen! The way you wrote about the differences between the two that were apparent at first and then how they were actually similar! 🫠

Would you be interested in doing a follow up for the same reader who still refuses to carry a gun, but then she and Spencer are in danger and an unsub is about to kill Spencer, so she breaks her rule and uses Spencer’s gun to shoot the unsub? She doesn’t have to shoot to kill, but just to protect Spencer.

Like maybe she got injured first and didn’t defend herself but the moment it’s about to happen to “her Doctor”, she knows what she has to do.

(If youre not interested, totally get it!!!) thank you for reading!

ANON YOU'RE A GENIUS OH MY GOD Pairing: Spencer Reid x Chubby!Fem!reader Cw; Guns, mention of violence towards a kid, reader gets stabbed (again), death mention, mention of reader getting a leg amputated WC: 909 This is a little spin-off of my first fic which you can read here but it can be read as a standalone as well

Things had escalated fast. The team had profiled a calm, rational unsub. She was acting more out of desperation than anything, nobody thought an attack was plausible. You had ruled out a partner early into the investigation, the kills were too mundane for that of two people. Even now, with said partner having killed the unsub, you still wondered how the companion could have possibly hid herself so well. The partner was armed, clearly the dominant of the two, it became an obvious case of master/servant. 

It was just you and Spencer here, Hotch was following close behind but his ETA was around 6 minutes. You didn’t have 6 minutes. She had gotten you good, coming out angry and ready to take out as many as possible. Your leg paid the price as she dove at you. You aimed for the floor, just needing to get out of her way, but you’re about 60% sure she sliced right through your Achilles. It would take all the energy you had to get back up, leaving you stationary and practically useless on the floor. 

The woman was clearly struggling with paranoia. She ditched the knife she struck you with in favor of waving her pistol around. She was incredibly animated as she spoke, throwing her hands in tune with her words as she argued with the air around her. Soon, as though a decision had been made, she set her sights on Spencer. Up until this point, he’d been helping you stop the blood pouring from your leg. You saw her make up her mind, and knew you had to act quick. She was coming for him. 

“Spencer, give me your gun.” You said it quickly and near silently, thanking the heavens he was so close to you. You discreetly laid your hand on the ground, and he placed it on your open palm. His back was towards her, it was up to you to protect him now. 

“You people think the whole world is up for you to dictate, you know that? You can never just let people be.” She was panting, hauling Spencer up from the floor and walking him against the wall at gunpoint. “We were fine! Nobody was ever even meant to get hurt, but you all can never just let people make mistakes.”

You were hiding the gun with your arm, if she saw it she could snap. “We understand mistakes, ma’am. But sometimes people get hurt. Don’t you think it’s fair the people you wronged get some justice?” You tried, but in your professional opinion this woman was already too far gone. 

“No! Don’t say it like that! We didn’t mean to hurt that kid, ok? We just got carried away.” She was rising, there was no talking her down. “You could have let us go, we would have left the country.” It was horrific, she was crying - remorseful. “But now - now I have to kill you and I don’t even want to.”

“Put down the gun, ma’am. Please.” One last bargain. “It doesn’t have to end this way.”

She only cocked the gun as a response, raising her hand to aim the pistol at Spencer’s temple. 

“I’ll make it quick, I promise.”

You didn’t have a choice at this point. This was the first time in your entire career you’d been forced to hurt an unsub. You’d never been anywhere without a team to back you up. This time it was your finger on the trigger. The angle you were aiming from - crooked, while lying on the floor - made it incredibly difficult to predict where the bullet would end up. You aimed low, crossing your fingers it would shock her away from Spencer. She can’t hurt him. It was the only thought left in your head. Please don’t hurt him.

–

You found yourself in the back of an ambulance. Again. The wound was more severe this time, Spencer glued to your side for the trip to the ER. You were going to need surgery to repair the nerve damage she caused.

“I hate hospitals.” Dread pooled in your gut at the thought of going under the knife. Spencer looked at you appalled. He couldn’t believe you were complaining about the service that was going to save you from an amputated leg. Or in other words, he was panicking. 

“Are you kidding me? You’ve lost enough blood to fill half a milk carton, Y/n! The fact they think you’re going to keep your leg means you got luckier than 67.2% of patients with similar stab wounds. Have a little gratuity.” His face was flushed, the hand gestures that usually accompanied his words were otherwise forgotten about. 

“Spencer, I’m gonna be ok.” You looked in his eyes from where you laid on the stretcher. Sounding out each word a little more purposefully in order to calm him down. 

“You shot someone. You’ve never even had to detain someone. I know how much you prioritize peace, Y/n.” Ah, so that’s why he was worked up. 

“Spence.” You laughed a bit - endearingly - at how worried he was about you breaking a vow. “She was going to hurt you. I would have killed her if I had to.” He looked so fragile in the vehicle’s stark lighting.

“Really? You mean that?” The kinder way of saying would you have done that for the others? 

You smiled at his words. “Only for you, Doc.”

[upsidedownmvnson]

fell off the moon | eddie munson

summary: jason carver threatens to hurt eddie if you continue seeing him, so you let him go. but eddie doesn't want to let go.

a/n: i loved this when i wrote it but im not so sure anymore... take it anyway :L

Eddie didn’t understand why you suddenly hated him.

Everything had been going so well. So he just… didn’t understand. It had been a few weeks of secret dates, of stolen kisses, and longing looks across the cafeteria. And then you just stopped. Stopped answering the phone, stopped letting him take you out, stopped talking to him at all. And it hurt, it hurt so fucking bad and he deserved an explanation. But you just wouldn’t budge. 

All he’d managed to get out of you in the hallway was, “maybe it just wasn’t meant to be,” but that wasn’t good enough for him.

You told him all your secrets. You were facing for him just as much as he had fallen for you, and you couldn’t just, just leave after making him fall so deeply.

What he didn’t see how you were hurting just as bad. How you were in agony because of all the pain you were causing. But you were doing it for him, you didn’t have a choice in the matter. Jason was powerful. Jason was rich, and white, and powerful, and he promised that if you continued on with the town freak, then Eddie would be the one paying the ultimate price. He all but promised that Eddie would be seriously hurt, or something. Jason already had it out for Eddie, for no reason, and you just… you couldn’t be the reason it gets worse. 

You weren’t totally sure why Jason even cared who you were with. You're sure it's something to do with Eddie’s misery, but it was steadily causing your own...

You were sitting in the cafeteria, painfully aware of how Eddie was trying to catch your eye, but you kept your focus down on your tray, poking at food you had no intention of eating. Your two close friends, Alex and Emma were talking about something, a movie they went to last night, but you didn’t care, you were so lost in your thoughts. You wanted to catch Eddie’s eye, but you resisted. 

“Are you ever gunna talk again?” Alex asked, frustrated and concerned at your sudden invisibility in the group. “You’ve been ghost all week.”

“Yeah,” Emma agreed, “we’re just worried. You were like, over the moon and then you just, I don’t know, like fell… off the moon.”

“I fell off the moon?” you asked, looking between the two of them.

“What Emma is trying to ask, is what happened? We thought you met someone, and then you just spaced out, but still haven’t spaced back in.”

You looked back at your plate, trying to telekinetically make them look away from you. Or maybe make their heads explode. Or your own head explode. But both of your friends continued staring at you, not letting you go without an answer, heads unfortunately unexploded. 

“I did meet someone, but, he ditched me,” you lied, slinking into your chair. “You know how it is.”

“Hmm,” Alex said, eyeing you suspiciously, “Who was it?”

“Does it matter?”

“It does,” Emma said, “we need to know you to hate.”

“I don’t hate him,” you whispered, sinking deeper into your seat and into yourself. “I wish he didn’t hate me.”

“You are being vague and cryptic, and we can’t help unless you talk to us.” Alex, always the voice of reason, and Emma nodding along like the loyal friend she it. But you can’t. You can’t and you don’t want to.

Betraying yourself, you looked over at Eddie’s table, catching his eyes for only a moment before you dropped them to your lap. He looked so sad. If you had kept watching you would’ve seen his defeated sigh, and his shoulders sink in disappointment. You kicked yourself mentally, you shouldn’t have to do this. You should be allowed to be happy with whoever you want. But… you also couldn’t let Eddie get hurt because you couldn’t let go.

“You’re going to have to fess up sometime,” Alex said, “you can’t keep going like this, it’s sad.”

“We’re just worried,” Emma reiterated, “because we love you.”

“Yes,” Alex nodded, “because we love you.”

And then they finally let it drop, clearly they wouldn’t be getting anything out of you. You peaked up at Eddie again, this time letting your eyes lock, and you didn’t look away, neither did he.

“Eddie,” Gareth said, “hello? Are you listening?”

“What?” Eddie asked, looking at you across the cafeteria. Your eyes were locked, and he was looking for something, anything, that would explain your painful change of heart. As far as he could tell, you hadn’t started seeing anyone different. And he had already recounted every last thing he had said to you the last time you had hung out, and between him, Gareth and Jeff, they couldn’t find anything wrong with any of it.

“Man,” Gareth sighed, “It’s time for tough love now. She’s not interested, I’m sorry dude, but…”

“But look at how she’s looking at me,” Eddie said, “she’s sad, I can see it.”

“Maybe it’s unrelated,” Gareth argued, he was compassionate but he was also slowly getting tired of hearing about you. He was also tired of how hurt Eddie was, and how you seemed to not care at all.

“I don’t know…” Jeff was looking at you too, “looks like longing to me.”

“Don’t encourage him!” 

“I’m going over there,” he said, loudly pushing the chair out, letting it squeal against the linoleum.

“Look at what you’ve done,” Gareth said, hitting Jeff on the arm.

But Eddie ignored his friends. He confidently walked towards you, catching the attention of Alex and Emma immediately, but you kept your eyes on your thighs, refusing to look as he stopped a foot away from your table.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” he asked, and his confidence shook as all three pairs of eyes locked onto him.

“We’re kinda busy,” you whispered, desperate for an escape. You hadn’t really anticipated him just marching over to you and your friends. You had been a secret, secret meet ups, secret kisses. This was not secret.

“Actually,” Alex said, scrambling to get up, and Emma just watched the scene, confused as ever, “Emma and I have to go talk to the music teacher, about hum, music.”

“What?” Emma asked, and Alex glared at her. 

“About our song? Remember? We didn’t know if it-" Alex huffed, “will you just get the fuck up, please?”

When they were gone, Eddie took a seat across from you. Your palms started to sweat, and you looked around, trying to see if Jason could see you. The whole freaking basketball team was looking over here, so they would definitely tell him. What would they do? Hurt him? What the fuck did Jason want with you, anyway?

“Please,” he whispered, leaning his chin on interlocked fingers, elbows digging into the cafeteria table. “Just tell me what happened? And I’ll beg you for forgiveness.”

You looked shocked. “You’ll beg me for forgiveness? I’m the one who…”

“Don’t care,” he interrupted, “don’t care, I just want you back in my life. As my friend, girlfriend, study partner, I don’t care.”

You blushed, not knowing what to say. But Eddie did, “whatever I did? I’m sorry,” he stood up, leaping over the table and taking a knee in front of you, he scooped up your hand, kissing the knuckles five times fast, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, tell me what happened and I’ll never do it again.”

“Eddie stop, you didn’t do anything,” you whispered, heart breaking at the sight of his vulnerability, what were you supposed to do here? You considered the truth, and then you considered the consequences. In every scenario, it was Eddie that suffered them, not you.

“Well then,” Eddie took a seat beside you. People were staring, whispering. “Did you just not like me anymore? Because that’s fine, like really it’s fine I’d be happy with a friend too.”

“Eddie…” you sighed, shoulders slumping. You were thinking so hard, Eddie could see your gears turning. He watched, forcing himself not to brush your hair behind your ear. It was torture. “I do like you,” you finally said, breaking a minute long silence. “But, we can’t… I don’t want you to get hurt.” 

“Who’s gunna hurt me?” he asked, relieved to finally get a few answers out of you, even if they were basically a riddle. “No one’s gunna hurt me.”

“Yes, he is.” 

“Who is he?”

“Eddie, I…” you looked around, suddenly full of fear, and Eddie could see it. He could see the fight or flight take over and he had to act swiftly. He took your hand again, brushing his thumb over your knuckles, and the warmth that radiated off his skin was incomparable. You were just as desperate for him as he was for you.

“You can tell me anything,” he said, calming and sweetly. Sincerity dripping from every word, and you believed him, you did. But you loved him, you loved him enough to leave him, and make his time here easier. Jason could ruin you, but not Eddie. He wasn’t allowed to hurt Eddie.

“He made me swear,” you said, “and I can’t let them hurt you, so you have to go now. Go away and don’t bother me again.”

“I’m not going away,” he said, “not when you need me most. I see that now.”

“You don’t see anything,” you said, fear and bitterness taking you over, and anxiety cast itself through your body. “You don’t understand.”

“Then help me to understand,” Eddie begged, still tightly holding onto your hand. “And then I can help you.”

Eddie didn’t know what to think. He was so fucking worried, it drove him insane. Here you were, babbling about people hurting him with tears in your eyes, but you were so scared you couldn’t share it with him. So frightened by someone that you felt you couldn’t even talk to him. Eddie’s eyes scanned the room, and stopped on the basketball table, filled with lingering stares. It had to be them, obviously, but you just wouldn’t say what the hell they were doing. He had nothing.  

“If they hurt you because of me, I would never forgive myself.” 

And Eddie was back to you, eyes locked on you as tears fell, the anxiety of it all taking over, leaving you a mess in the middle of the cafeteria. He tried to calm you, but you pushed him away, freeing your hand and making a swift exit out the door. 

Eddie was stunned, could barely process what had happened before you were already gone. He wanted to chase after you, he wanted to go to the basketball table and ask what the fuck was going on. But he didn’t know… he had no idea what the right thing to do was. You seemed more important, so he tried to find you in the halls, but you were gone.

He wandered the halls, totally lost in thought. Gareth and Jeff found him a few minutes later, asking what the hell had happened, and when Eddie explained, they were no less confused.

“So, what? Someone’s not letting her see you?” Gareth asked, arms crossed with apprehension.

“I told you it was longing,” Jeff said, hitting Eddie’s arm. “She does like you, she just needs… something.”

“Yeah but, what? What are they doing to her? Why can’t she talk to me about it?”

“She said they were going to hurt you?” Jeff asked, “that’s probably the answer. Someone is threatening you and she feels guilty.”

“She did say she would never forgive herself,” Eddie said, “you think she’s doing this to protect me?”

“From who?” Jeff asked.

And suddenly Gareth got it, he was back on your side and he understood. “Who do you think?” He pointed down the hall behind Jeff and Eddie, where Jason Carver was angrily staring back at them, arms crossed with a scowl.

“That guy?”

“Hasn’t he been in love with y/n for like, ever?” Jeff asked, “it all makes sense.”

“Oh my god,” Gareth said, snickering, “remember when she rejected his homecoming proposal in the ninth grade? In front of everyone.”

And it all made sense. Jason Carver was the he. He wanted you to himself, but you didn’t want him. So he tried to ruin what you did have. It all made perfect sense. And Eddie was pissed. Furious that someone would toy with you like that, for what? Jealousy? Mad that the freak can get the girl that the jock wanted. Well, jokes on that asshole, because Eddie didn’t think of you as something to get, you were someone to love, cherish, admire.

“That weasel’s going down,” Eddie said, voice low and rough and unlike anything Jeff or Gareth had ever heard. 

“So, what’s the plan?” Gareth asked, and Eddie said nothing. Eddie just smiled.

[kingoftheu]

I am the world's last Jeyna shipper. I am one of those soldiers who never heard WWII was over and was hiding in the jungle. I understand that canon has moved on but I refuse to surrender. I don't even need the ship itself to be canon, could be totally platonic I don't care but as a matter of principle it has to be maintained.

Jason just flat out ditching Romans never sat right with me. All those backstory hints in TLH ignored. His history comepletely irrelevant. Not once do we see him interact with any old friends who are not otherwise involved. Oh I'm sorry he had never really felt at home at Camp Jupiter than why was he part of the swap. Ooh la la Pontifex Maximus I don't care he should have been the Roman's Roman. They got left with Frank and Hazel who will be great don't get me wrong but they aren't very expirienced as the quest starts. Jason is the only Old Hand who could have countered Percebeth on the Argo 2.

Look as I said above I don't actually need Reyna to wind up with Jason. But...like...something on their backstory. I mean they toppled the Throne of Saturn. Why was she of all people raised alongside him after they were victorious? But nope Romans get screwed over. I also don't like her joining the Hunt. I just don't like the implications of a woman who doesn't want to get involved with romance having to withdraw from the world entirely. Why can't she just be praetor and not have romance.

In conclusion I am the world's last Jason x Reyna shipper who also doesn't actually ship them in particular.

[lazyjellyfish300]

DD pt 3 part 2 of 2

Fem reader x Miguel O'Hara who is your Uber driver

This art was commissioned to accompany this chapter by the incredibly talented @/ejpuki on Instagram. Please go support the original artist!

Pt 1 , Pt 2 , Pt 3 1 , Part 4 , Part 5

Synopsis- fem reader drinks too much and the bartender calls a random Uber for her which happens to be Miguel O'Hara himself. Her friends suck and ditch her. There's a lot of tension on the ride home...

TW: MINORS DNI, some blood, little.violence, suggestive content ,age gap (reader 26, Miguel 34), this one is a sad one, inspired by the original comic

-----

Over the next few days you two text back and forth and talk on the phone. You feel so happy and excited about this budding romance between you two. It's been so long since you felt safe enough to let yourself catch feelings for a guy. You flood his phone while he's at work. Miguel isn't used to someone texting him so often but it's kind of cute how you update him on every little thing that's happening in your day and he has to try not to burst out laughing in the break room at some of the Instagram reels you send him. 

Your text convo: 

Miguel (pookie 🐻❤️) : Why tf would you send me a video of a banana cat with that sad music 😂😐🤨 and who is that white guy that's always randomly showing up at the end of videos with that whistle tune playing? 

You(amor ❤️): it's a meme babe you don't get it😂😂😂 it's supposed to be random, that's what makes it funny af. And that's Josh Hutcherson. You've never seen or read Hunger Games?! 

Miguel(pookie 🐻❤️): no, I haven't. Your sense of humor is a little broken I'm afraid. 🤨 You kids and your memes. 

You(amor ❤️): my sense of humor is just fine 😂LMAO you're only like 8 years older than me. 😂 we're watching it immediately! And we're going to Barnes and Noble to get you a copy. 😇 

Miguel(pookie 🐻❤️): hmmm fine.😌 When would you like to, cutie? ❤️

You(amor ❤️): This weekend please? ❤️❤️❤️

Miguel(pookie 🐻❤️): I'm so sorry, I'll have Gabi with me. But she'll be at her mom's next weekend. Can we do it then? ❤️ 

You(amor ❤️): that's okay I totally understand! ❤️ Yes please! I'm so excited ❤️ I miss you... 

Miguel(pookie 🐻❤️): perfect. I miss you more. ❤️

--------- 

Next Friday

Miguel drives to work, his heart like a dead weight in his chest and his mind racing with different scenarios on how he's going to tell his boss he's had enough. This isn't what he signed up for. The project he was overseeing at work was trying to create these "special abilities"in humans. One of the test subjects passed away this week and he'd be lying to himself if he said it wasn't messing with his head. He had nightmares about her. She couldn't have been older than 19. Her blue eyes frantic as she realized she might not make it off the lab table alive. Her horrified screams ringing in his eardrums. Miguel's fist clamped tighter around the steering wheel as he choked back a sob. He felt this was his burden to shoulder alone. He knew he was falling for you steadily now, and he didn't want you to go crazy worrying about him. He knows you love to try and fix people, a lot of times to your detriment and couldn't stand to see you in that position or live with the fact that he put you there. 

 He really didn't care for his boss, Tyler Stone either. Tyler Stone was the 6'3, blonde haired, blue eyed, egotistical vice president over Research and Development at Alchemax. He and the other higher ups just spent all day figuratively (and possibly literally) sucking each other off in boardroom meetings for the hard work everyone underneath them was doing. He was a businessman, not a scientist, and it became clear to Miguel that profit came first for him over scientific discovery and advancement, and his cronies shared the same philosophy. 

Miguel faced the man now, sitting in his office. Tyler sighed and walked over to his decanter set that sat in the corner of his office on top of a polished mahogany drink cabinet. 

"Care for some bourbon?" He asked, rolling up his sleeves.

Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose and nodded, closing his eyes for a moment. 

"It pains me to hear that you're wanting to leave, it really does." Tyler says as he pours the bourbon in two short, square glasses. 

"I chose you because I believed you could handle it. Your track record doesn't lie, Miguel. You were top of your class at Columbia University. I've seen your research and read your thesis that you did with them. You know Dain was actually the one that submitted your nomination to me when I was looking for someone to promote?" Tyler hands the glass of bourbon to Miguel who murmurs a low thank you. 

"My point is, if you leave, I got no one to replace you, and that makes my job even more tough." Tyler takes a sip of his bourbon and makes a small face. "I'm going to bat for your little science project every time I meet with the board of directors. I'll be honest with you, they're ready to trim the fat." Tyler's blue eyes bore into Miguel's over the rim of his glass. "But I tell them that this process, is worth the wait. We won't have these superhuman abilities lined up for purchase on shelves tomorrow. But give or take a few years we will be the first to break 100 bil in quarterly revenue when we roll this out to the public.  My point is, I'm willing to do whatever I gotta do to keep this project afloat because I've ran the numbers, I've seen what guys like you and Dain can do. It's a worthwhile investment."

Miguel takes a sip of his bourbon and winces. Fuck it, he downs the rest of the whiskey, his throat on fire. He holds out his empty glass to Tyler who takes it and goes to refill it, his back turned to Miguel.

 "I'm sorry...." Miguel finally says. "I've made up my mind. I'm flattered that you think I'm the right person for this job, but I'm telling you, I don't want to be the guy who all of this is riding on anymore. I'm not gonna gamble if people's lives are the chips."

Tyler's face went dark and he started tapping the side of his glass, his back still turned to Miguel.

Since when did this fucker grow a conscience? He knows he wouldn't be doing this job if he wasn't getting paid for it either right? He'd given Miguel and his team resources that any group of scientists would give their left kidney for. It was thanks to him in those board meetings that those ungrateful bastards even still had a job. And now their hang up is human test subjects? 

Tyler handed Miguel back another glass and said nothing as he watched Miguel down it. Miguel winced again as he finished his liquor, throat still on fire and cheeks starting to flush. 

Tyler turned back around, looking at the now setting sun on the horizon. "I'm afraid I can't let you go." He said calmly. 

Miguel raised an eyebrow, then suddenly his face turned white when Tyler held up an empty vial of Rapture, his back still turned to him. Tyler spoke again, his back still facing Miguel. "Alchemax is the only distributor of Rapture. Leave if you want, but I'm going to have to be forced to let the board know and involve law enforcement when they realize one of their silly little scientists couldn't keep his hands out of the cookie jar and became a needy little addict." He took a long sip. 

"You're not gonna make me look like a weak little bitch in front of the whole board. I don't lose, Miguel. You're not gonna fuck this up for me." 

Enraged, Miguel shot up, shattering the shot glass in his hand, blood gushing out of his fingers. "You fucking piece of shit!" 

Tyler remained calm. "You wanna hurt me? Go right ahead. I used your sign in to get this vial from the lab. The access history and empty vial next to my dead body will just deepen the hole you dug yourself. Either do as I say, or throw away your freedom right now and kill me before you even had a chance to see your little girl go to Prom." 

Miguel paused. This fucker was playing chess with him. Tyler took another sip. "It'd be a damn shame if you did. Especially about that new slutty girlfriend of yours. Did you even get to find out what her pussy feels like?"

That was it. Miguel threw his chair against the wall, the wooden legs splintering into the cabinet Tyler was leaning up against, a neutral expression on his prick face as he sipped more bourbon. 

Miguel turned and left the office, and slammed the door so hard the receptionist let out a small squeak of terror as Miguel tore down the hallway, rage seething out of his ears. 

  "Aaron?" Tyler asked in his cold expressionless voice. 

A short, balding man in his mid-thirties with green eyes and thick black rimmed glasses stepped out from behind a two way mirror in the corner of Tyler's office. 

"You rewrote the code in Machine A-2099 in sector 8, right?" 

"Yes boss." 

--------

You hummed happily as you lit a few of your favorite vanilla almond scented candles on your coffee table. You went all out with a smorgasbord of treats for your movie date night with Miguel including popcorn, gummy worms, Milk Duds, Pretzels, M&Ms, beef jerky, and root beer floats. As soon as you got off work, you cleaned the whole apartment top to bottom and put fresh sheets on the bed. You checked your phone anxiously.

Text convo: 

Miguel (pookie 🐻❤️): Good morning beautiful ❤️ how'd you sleep? Have a great day, I'll be at your apartment at 8 pm. 

You(amor ❤️): you just made my whole morning!🥰🥰 Good morning handsome! I slept great! I'm so looking forward to movie night tonight. I have a bunch of treats and goodies for us to snack on too. 😇

Miguel (pookie 🐻❤️): that sounds wonderful, baby. ❤️ Driving to work now, I'll text you when I get there but I'm not going to be able to talk much today. I have a meeting with the boss and a bunch of other stuff related to the project I'm overseeing. Just wanted to let you know not to worry ❤️ I'll call you at 6! 

6 pm came and went and you felt sick to your stomach. 

You(amor ❤️): Babe? Everything okay, I tried you twice. 

Nothing. 

You (amor ❤️): Miguel? It's 9 pm. Are you okay? Please just call or text me to let me know everything's okay...

It was now 10 pm. He wasn't coming. Your stomach lay in knots. You had called him 28 times with no answer.

What's happening? Is he cheating on me? Did he get into an accident? Is he dead on the side of the road while I'm hundreds of miles away and can't do anything?

He gets busy at work but he always, always checks in with you. You can't help but fight back tears at his untouched root beer float sitting next to yours. You knew going into this that you had to jump, knowing you were gonna fall and he might not be there to catch you. Well, here you were with a small dagger in your heart on what was supposed to be your second date. You couldn't help but let yourself get in your head. His rejection of you this time confirmed everything you feared about yourself. You laid down on the couch and sobbed quietly to sleep. 

------

That same night at Alchemax

Miguel's painful screams reverberated off the tiled floor of the genetics lab at Alchemax. The tall powerful man he was, was writhing on the floor in agony. It was as though his blood had turned to acid. His whole body felt on fire. Please God, if I'm supposed to die right now just take me already. He hadn't felt pain this intense ever before in his life. His eyes turned bloodshot, foaming at the mouth as his saliva bubbled and splurted out in incoherent gasps. 

Aside from his screams, the machine responsible for his pain let out a low beep. Miguel knew that a copy of his original DNA sample was logged into one of the gene altering machines that he set up when he was first put in charge of Tyler's superhuman project. He knew that as long as he had a drop of Rapture in him, he'd remain an addict defenseless against his new dependency Tyler forced on him. He had tried in vain to rewrite his current biology back to the original, but Tyler was one step ahead. Tyler knew nothing about science or how DNA worked, but it didn't take much to convince Miguel's bitter, jealous subordinate, Aaron Delgado to sabotage the machine. Very little was known about what type of effect that might have on a human, so there was a good chance he'd just die. Just what they wanted. Aaron and Tyler's smug faces entered the lab, watching Miguel suffer and taunting him, even pouring up another round of bourbon while they waited for the show to end. Yep, he'd be dead in just a few more minutes. They had an alibi and a cover up ready to go. They'd post his job opening by Monday and then they could pretend like this never happened. Miguel suddenly became still, his chest seeming to freeze in place, no longer rising and falling with his normal breathes. 

Gabriella, my little girl...I'm so sorry....I love you more than anything 

His eyes became glassy with tears. He was on his way to finding happiness with you too, only to have the rug pulled out from under him, now he was going to die here, alone. And those who killed him would never know justice behind their corporate wall of privilege and greed that would surely protect them. He uttered your name, his lips barely moving before his eyes fell closed and saw only black.. 

----

Pt 4 coming soon! Thanks for the support 🖤

@mysteris-things

[chaifootsteps]

frustrating thing about that bad Octavia take is the episode didn't frame it as her being 'spoiled' or needing Stolas' attention right that second - she goes up to talk to him and is pretty hesitant and mumbly when she tries to get his attention. (The episode does come down way too much on Stolas' side but they frame it like Via should cut him slack for letting her down, not that she was unreasonable to be hurt in the first place)

She doesn't stomp her foot and she doesn't even raise her voice. She waits until back in her room where Stolas can't even see before she does anything resembling a tantrum.

And she's upset because when she tried to talk to Stolas, he didn't even remember it was the day of the meteor shower and brushed her off totally. Then he says him arguing with Stella is going to take all day, blowing off their planned day together totally.

She delivers her lines with the hurt that someone has when they thought something in their life was a guarantee and that the other person would remember because it's important to them, too, but Stolas thought being petty to Stella was so important that he literally didn't even remember the meteor shower until the very end of the episode, when Via told him about it. He didn't remember on his own, which suggests he didn't think it that important. But instead of the episode have him saying he'd gotten carried away with his feud with Stella, Via just says 'you're here now' as if that and watching a discount meteor shower with the fireworks is good enough

It's pretty hard to claim she's had her every need attended to when it's hard to tell if Stolas and Stella ever pretended to be happily married in front of her, Stella throws 'still not divorced' parties in Via's home and Stolas only ditched this emotionally scarring charade to neglect Via in favor of the imp booty call he's been harassing nonstop.

It's a consistent pattern with Stolas even after the show started babying him that his ability to empathise with other people and understand their feelings sucks. Via living in a palace does not mean she's had everything she ever wanted if her emotional needs to, y'know, not to live in the middle of a sham marriage or to not have to watch her father be a sex pest towards the imp he cheated with are not being met. And Stolas stans should know that because it's the exact same argument they make about him all the time - that he still lived an emotionally impoverished life despite being rich and powerful.

despite the show so far avoiding making Via spoiled (she's way more of a moody emo teen stereotype, like Loona but better fleshed out) I can't help but feel like the remaining fanbase are just going to get more and more vitriolic towards her, same way some of them are actively rooting for Stolas to engage in DV against Blitzo (I mean that 'girlypop should wait 5 mins' is pretty passive aggressive)

Bingo. Nailed it.

So far, Octavia is the only character to go against Stolas that's still permitted by the show to retain a scrap of acknowledgement of being in the right. Striker's dirty and gross and poor and a "supremacist," Stella's a stupid bitch who deserves her brother's abuse, Blitzo is "leading Stolas on" and deserves to suffer for hurting Stolas's feelings by calling out his abuse. But Via's still allowed the bare minimum...she's expected to "cut him some slack," but it's never called into question -- at least not yet -- that he wronged her.

But that's not enough for this fandom. Via upset Stolas and even worse, she's a female character, so she's a spoiled, entitled brat who sucks.

[deconstructthesoup]

One thing I really liked about the Scott Pilgrim anime is that Gideon is the only one who remained evil.

Yeah, he got a depression arc, and he got a girlfriend who's scary enough to not take his shit and for him to actually respect her, but he's still evil. He still fully intended to blow up a theater to get back at someone. He got his CEO position back, and we all know that that's only an opportunity for him to be more evil. And if the end credits scene is to go off of, he's got plans.

But the other exes? They got closure. They got character development. They got to move forward. Because they honestly... weren't that bad.

Matthew Patel, who had the biggest glowup, was literally just a middle school thing. Yeah, Ramona ditched him and was kind of sucky, but it probably wouldn't have lasted anyway. And like she said, he didn't really get "evil" until high school, and by then he'd already moved.

Lucas Lee? Maybe he had some mild toxic tendencies when he and Ramona dated, but from what he saw, he was actually pretty sweet during their relationship. In the comics, he's honestly the most reasonable of the exes, deciding to actually have a chat with Scott before Scott convinces him to grind to death. And he didn't do anything to Ramona to make her break up with him---she just dumped him for Todd.

Todd Ingram, while being a little bit obsessive---and based on the comics and the anime, a compulsive cheater---didn't seem that horrible when they were dating, either, unless you count the "punch the hole in the moon" thing. He and Ramona broke up because of a long-distance thing. She went off to college, he went back to Envy. Bit of a douche? Yeah. Actively horrible to her? Not really, honestly.

Roxie Richter, our incredible half-ninja lesbian, is arguably the best out of Ramona's exes. She and Ramona had a genuinely healthy relationship, they actually got along great, and Roxie deeply cared about her... and Ramona straight-up broke her heart. When you look at it, Roxie really is the only ex who fully did nothing wrong. No erratic tendencies that caused Ramona to decide to cut her out, no behaviors that Ramona probably knew would become problematic unless she split. Roxie was sweet, she was Ramona's bi awakening... and Ramona didn't like her as much as Roxie liked her. The whole situation was just mass miscommunication, and it's totally understandable why Roxie is still bitter down the line. Unlike with the others, Ramona's fully in the wrong, which is why they need to reconcile first.

Kyle and Ken---okay, in the comics, they were amazing villains, and it's kind of a crime that they keep getting shafted, but honestly... I get it. Their relationship with Ramona wasn't actually that complicated. They were players, she played them back, they resented her for it until they got over it. Of course they're the exes that are kind of the masterminds in the anime---along with Old Scott---and of course they're the exes that are the most chill.

Gideon, on the other hand, is the only ex who can only be described as a full-on bastard. Out of all seven of the "evil" exes, Gideon's the only one who Ramona outright says was abusive. In the comics, beyond just starting the league, he controlled her and Scott's mind and straight-up imprisoned his own ex-girlfriends, fully intending to do the same to Ramona. He's also the only ex who was defeated by both Scott and Ramona, and it's the most satisfying thing to see him fully get his ass kicked. It's fully unsurprising that his backstory in the anime was that he was an incel who nobody liked, and he got dangerous once he got money.

So of course, when all of the other exes are getting cool redemption arcs, moments of self-actualization, coming-out moments, and instances of actually befriending the heroes, Gideon's the one who stays an asshole. He has a fall from grace and becomes a loser, the girl who he winds up with is also evil and thinks him being evil is hot, and at the end of the series, they're a villain power couple, emphasis on villain. Gideon learned to treat his girlfriend with respect, and probably moved on from Ramona... aaaaaaand that's it. He's still a dick. He's still an evil mastermind.

So... yeah. The Scott Pilgrim anime is great, as are the comics. Check 'em both out.

[st4rb3rries]

the main 4 meeting you for the first time

pairings; stan, kyle, kenny, cartman x fem!reader (all aged up 17-18)

summary; reactions and meeting you

warnings; cussing and suggestive language

a/n; hopefully you guys understand the kyle and stan one😭

how kyle and stan met you:

you met them senior year. they saw your fine ass in class and were like "gawd dayum 😍😍🔥❤️" NAH JK kyle and stan secretly talked shit about you because you were the smartest in class. (they haven't even talked to you once) it was mostly kyle because he was jealous of your academic intelligence.

kyle: "who does she think she is acting like a goody two shoes and she shouldn't even be talking with that big ass forehead her calculations aren't even correct dude i'm totally way smarter than y/n🙄"

stan: "ong bruh like her forehead is bigger than my relationship with my dad😭 and no one can outsmart my super best friend dude🤨"

y/n: ....

like y'all sit close by each other in class and they still have the audacity to talk shit😭. they weren't even slick either you could clearly hear them but they thought you couldn't.

but one day things changed. they were struggling in algebra so you decided to help them. out of the kindness of your heart? no. the teacher told you to help them. this was the moment that would change everything.

y/n: "hi do you need some help it looks like you guys are struggling"

kyle: "no were fine we don't need your help"

stan: "yeah dude you can go away, kyle is way smarter than you we don't need you"

kyle: "yeah that's right i'm smarter than you punk so you can go away now🤓"

y/n: "ok kyle why did you pick 'd' instead of 'c' for number 1🥱"

kyle: "WHAT I THOUGHT IT WAS D HOW COU-"

stan: "DUDE WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TRYING TO MAKE US FAIL"

y/n: "ah look at that so you need my help after all"

stan and kyle: "smart ass"

y/n: "what was that hm?"

kyle: "smart class"

stan: "y-yeah we have a smart class😇"

y/n: "i know you guys talk shit about me don't think your so slick"

stan and kyle: 😮😮

they stopped talking bad about you. since you found out you started "helping" them more and they both started getting to know you better. even though they still had their attitude. and with all that helping there formed a friendship<3.

how cartman and kenny met you:

you also met them senior year. you however only met them because you decided to ditch class and do your business under the bleachers. both of them have seen you in class and they know your smart. they just didn't really care about you though.

*you walk over to the bleachers*

cartman: "oh shit teachers, RUN KENNY'

y/n: "im not a teacher wtf😭 "

they got scared there for a minute. but they weren't anymore until they recognized your annoying voice. cartman and kenny also thought you would never ditch class because your so smart🤨. (they were generally surprised)

cartman: "sorry there's no nerdy bitches allowed😘"

kenny: "you can be my nerdy bitch😏"

y/n: "and that's why your moms should've swallowed both of you when she had the chance."

cartman: 😮

kenny: "HAHAHAH" *bros tryna get into them baggy jeans💀*

cartman: "what the hell are you even doing here"

y/n: "no what are you doing here🤨"

cartman: "ditching class duh you dumb slut🙄"

y/n: "ok tubby well i need both of you to leave"

kenny: "why🥹"

y/n: "don't worry about it"

kenny: "YES MA'AM😍"

unfortunately they stayed because they're nosy as hell. anyways after they both saw you make money by doing peoples homework. they had mad respect for you. cartman was even a bit jealous that you came up with so much money. kenny on the other hand was wondering if you provide other types of services🤔.

cartman: " here y/n take this why don't we talk for a bit"

y/n: "are these crushed up smarties🤨"

kenny: "ya you can smoke em' or snort em' "

y/n: "y'all can't afford the real stuff💀?"

cartman: "so about your services, i'd like to be your manager i can make you stronger and smarter"

y/n: "do you have a gpa of 4.0"

kenny: "does 2.8 count"

cartman: "kenny stfu im tryna make us some money here"

cartman: "anyways so-"

after talking with them you agreed. but little did know that agreement was gonna be a long one. both of them truly admired your hard work and at some point it wasn't about the money. they really just liked hanging out with you😭.

[midmourn]

traitor

title traitor

pairing lee jeno x gender neutral!reader

summary you know what jeno is doing behind your back, but you kept quiet anyways so you could keep him. guess it didn't really matter in the end, because he still betrayed you.

warnings angst, mentions of cheating, jeno's like an asshole but he believes he's not, brief mentions of loved one dying

word count 1,450

author's note sorry jeno ... and the rest of dream when i make theirs. please give me feedback, it encourages me to continue writing !! reposting from my old blog.

"Stop staring," Haechan murmured over your shoulder, making you sigh as you stabbed your fork into your meat. "They'll notice."

"And he'll, what? Come to confront me?" You snort, rolling your eyes as you tear your gaze away from the happy couple. "Like hell. I wish." You bring a piece of meat up to your mouth and angrily chew, "I just don't understand! It's been two weeks since we broke up, and he's already dating someone else?" Haechan stayed quiet as he played with his food, knowing it'd be best just to let you get your feelings out. "How the hell do you fall in love with someone else in two weeks?! It's just not possible."

"You know," he said quietly, and that was all he had to say to make you go quiet.

Yes. You knew.

You don't know how they met, Jeno would never tell you. All you knew was that just one day, she showed up in his life and he was completely enamored by her. You weren't a fool, you could tell by the way he said her name and the way his eyes shined whenever she somehow showed up at the same place you two were at.

"So you're going to hang out with her?" You ask, eyebrows raised at the dark-haired boy in front of you. He slowly swallowed his food and nodded, not offering more than that. But you had to dig more into it. You needed more information. "Just her?"

"Other people will be there, too," he said dismissively, but you weren't done.

"Anyone I know?" You hummed, tilting your head as you took a sip of your drink. You feigned calmness, but you and him both knew that the anger was boiling in your veins, waiting. And waiting.

"Maybe," Jeno sighed, setting down his fork. "But it's totally cool, right? 'Cause her and I are just friends." Friends ... That's what they all say, Jeno. Does he truly think you’re stupid?

You stared at him unnervingly, before saying, "Right." If that's what you want me to believe, you remarked in your head.

"He'll never know," you murmured out of nowhere to Haechan. He tilted his head at you, so you continued. "He thinks he didn’t do anything wrong by not cheating on me, but does it really count when he was still talking to her during our relationship?"

Haechan didn't respond.

"Are you serious?" You shouted, a laugh escaping your lips after. You run your hands down your shirt, shaking your head as you gritted your teeth. Jeno stood a bit before you, eyes down on the floor. "You're really ditching our date to go comfort her?"

"She's upset, Y/N," he said quietly. "And we're friends."

"The stupid bitch doesn't have any other friends than you?" You questioned loudly. "Seriously? She has to take my boyfriend away from me on our date night? Jeno, I've barely seen you all week because of her!"

"Don't be paranoid," Jeno's jaw clenched. "Nothing is happening between us, I promise."

You stayed silent for a moment before saying, "I didn't say there was."

Jeno's head lifted up from the floor to stare at you silently.

The silence was air constricting, but you didn't say anything and merely turned away to walk out of his apartment. Just like you thought, he didn't stop you.

The first time you cried over Jeno was right after the break-up before it turned into seething anger. It was the worst pain you had ever felt in your life, especially because you knew it was for her. And it was because of you, not because of him like he said. 'It's not you, it's me,' were the exact words he said. The cliche words everyone said while breaking up. You couldn't even believe he had the audacity to say it to your face.

The second time you cried over Jeno was now.

"Oh, God," Haechan sighed, wrapping his arm around you and trying to steer you away from the drinks, "Let's go."

"What?" You frowned, digging your heels into the ground as you tried to continue filling your drink up, "Why? Let me finish my drink, Haechan."

"Y/N," he whined like a child before looking over your shoulder and hurriedly saying, "Jeno and his girlfriend are coming over here! Let's—"

"Hey." You tensed slowly, eyes slowly moving up to look in front of you despite the two being on your right side. He couldn't have waited until you had left? Who the hell did he think he was? You clicked your tongue before stepping back and turning to face them, Haechan being dragged with you since his arm was still around your shoulder.

Jeno had a sweet smile on his face, but you knew how he really was. And what he really was here for. His arm was wrapped around her waist, you still had no idea what her name was. Or maybe you did and just blocked it out of your memory. You probably did. The girl seemed clueless of the situation, but maybe she was just a really good actress. So were you.

"Hi," you said slowly, raising an eyebrow. "Sorry, we'll get out of your way. We're finished, anyway." At your words, Haechan turned the two of you around to walk away and join your other friends at the other side of the party, but Jeno spoke up again.

"No, no, it's cool," he chuckled slightly and you gritted your teeth, eyes roaming around. "I also wanted to talk to you, since— you know, we haven't really spoke and you blocked me on everything so—"

"Then maybe you should get the hint," Haechan sighed, turning around without you to face Jeno. "Like, seriously? They blocked you on everything and you're still here trying to talk to them?"

"I just—"

"It doesn't matter what you wanted," you huffed, turning around and glaring at him. The girl looked between the three of you like it was a tennis ball match. "I don't want to talk to you, that's why I blocked you, Lee Jeno."

"Y/N," he chuckled uneasily, shifting on his feet and his arm fell from around the girl's waist. "We—"

"I don't care," you shrugged, taking a sip of your drink, "We broke up, you're in the past, so let's leave it at that, alright?" You sent them both a sweet smile before tugging on Haechan's arm to follow you to the opposite side of the party. You didn't stop walking until you knew they could no longer see you.

"Wow," Haechan whispered in amazement, "That was so cool of you, Y/N Y/L/N!" He looked over his shoulder to see if he could see them before turning back to you. "You're seriously such a good actor, I—" He paused, blinking at you. Your head was down, staring at the ground and he blinked again. "Y/N? Are you okay?”

"No," you whispered, inhaling and exhaling. "No, I'm not okay."

Haechan didn't wait before taking your drink and setting it on the ground before pulling you into a hug, his head resting on your shoulder. His hug was warm and comforting, full of love but it still didn't help the Jeno shaped hole in your heart. Your hands clutched at the shirt of his back, shuddering breaths leaving your body and tears slipping down your face.

"I hate him," you gasped between breaths, squeezing your eyes shut as the tears continued to fall. Your heart painfully clenched in your chest and all you wanted to do was reach into your chest and tear out your heart. You wished it was possible. "I hate him! How could he do this to me? After— after everything? I loved him when he was a fucking asshole to everyone! I defended him and helped him when he couldn't even—" You stopped talking, resting your head on Haechan's body. "I wish we never met."

Haechan didn't say anything, simply squeezed his arms around your waist and let you cry your heart out. It was for the best, as always, to let you speak your thoughts and let you cry. He knew you had always been one to hold in your emotions until you just couldn't take it anymore, it happened when your grandmother died and you never cried about it or talked about her anymore. You did the exact same thing when Jeno broke up with you.

"I hate him," you murmured into his shirt as you shook your head to yourself. "I hate him so much— he's a damn, damn— traitor!"

"I know," he sighed, resting his cheek on the side of your head. "I know."

sour series masterlist. masterlist. rules.

[megantheestallion-ismypresident]

Kickin Back

Maddy perez x Black!fem reader

Summary: After Maddy and Nate broke up, Y/n and Maddy get high in Y/n's room together and things get a little spicy.

As Maddy was checking herself out in the mirror, Y/n was in her bed smoking a blunt. "He's such a dick Y/n, like the way he is just baffles me." Maddy says to Y/n as she looks in the mirror, feeling insecure about herself.

Y/n and Maddy have been best friends in their pagent years. They were always there for each other until they made it to high school. Y/n hated high school she never really fit in she was under the radar, but that didn't mean she couldn't support her best friend. Maddy was practically popular, I mean, how couldn't she? Maddy was pretty, Y/n admire Maddy and her beauty, she was a cheerleader and gotten new friends. Y/n thought Maddy would be like one of those girls who are popular and ditch her friends for new ones, but she didn't.

Maddy never put Y/n. Last, she was still gonna be there for Y/n whether or not she was popular or not. When Maddy started dating nate, she couldn't stand it.

Maddy didn't want you to feel lonely, so she let you come tag along with her and nate. Y/n wanted to put his hands on Nate so badly, but she couldn't because he's dating her best friend. Y/n and Nate would glance glares at each other, she couldn't stand him and his bitch ass family. But when Maddy and Nate had their first breakup, Y/n wanted to kill him with her own bare hands. She was there when Maddy was depressed and couldn't get out of bed to go to school, Y/n would go to Maddy's house every single day to try and cheer her up.

And it did work eventually, Maddy, but when Nate wanted Maddy back, she instantly got back together with him, Y/n couldn't understand what Maddy saw in Nate. Nate was like Satan in Y/n's eyes.

"Yeah, he was a total dick." Y/n said as she rolled her eyes as she was high off the blunt, not wanting to talk or hear Nate Jacobs.

"He just finds a way to ruin my self confidence, he was so controlling, he never wanted to be my own true self." Maddy says, looking at herself sadly.

"Who cares about what that nigga thinks, he's a white boy with daddy issues, I honestly don't know what you saw in him?" Y/n says in disbelief.

"I just want to get him out of my head and stop thinking about him." Maddy says as she turns around facing Y/n.

Y/n offers Maddy some of her blunt she could calm down. Maddy looks at the blunt and takes it as she inhales and huffs it out.

"I feel more relaxed now." Maddy said as she inhales the blunt slowly as she huffy the smoke in the air as she's face to face to Y/n.

"I told you it would relax you." Y/n said, looking at Maddy seductively as they both look at each others lip.

Y/n kisses Maddy as Maddy kisses her back as they both end up on the bed.

"I've been wanting do that for a long time." Y/n said as she looks at Maddy.

Maddy starts kissing Y/n as Maddy takes off Y/n's shirt, leaving her bra on.

"You're so pretty." Maddy said as she kissed Y/n's neck as she uncle's Y/n bra leaving her bare.

As Maddy and Y/n kisses passionately, Y/n was on top of Maddy bringing her hand caressing her tits but brings her hand lower to her pussy

"Can I touch you?" Y/n says, looking at Maddy for approval. "Yeah." Maddy nods her head 'yes' for Y/n to touch her.

Y/n takes off Maddy's pants and seeing her cum in her pants already.

" You so wet for me, and we just started." Y/n teases maddy.

Y/n insert to fingers inside Maddy making her arch her back as she moans, Y/n didn't know to much about fingering, so she just did whatever felt good.

"Am I doing good?" Y/n questions Maddy.

"Really fucking good." Maddy says as she moans.

"Oh my god, Y/n going to cum." Maddy said as she moans louder.

Maddy cums on Y/n's finger as she pants. Y/n sees the cum on her fingers as she sucks on Maddy's cum looking at her seductively.

"Now it's my turn to please you." Maddy says as she gets on top of Y/n as she takes off her pants and underwear.

Maddy widens Y/n's legs getting in between her legs, Y/n grabs a blunt and lights it as she smokes and huffs it out.

Maddy kisses Y/n's clit, making her moan as she huffs out the blunt. Maddy eats Y/n out a bit more faster than what Y/n expected.

Y/n grabs Maddy hair making her go lower as Y/n moans louder almost about to cum, Y/n had never been pleasures in her life and what makes her happy is that she's being pleasures by her best friend who's been her crush for a very long ass time.

Y/n cums as she pants and felt relieve and relaxed, Maddy gets out between of Y/n's legs, as she comes over and lay down next to Y/n on the bed as they both pant.

"You're right this was relaxing." Maddy says looking at Y/n, Y/n passes Maddy the blunt as Maddy smokes the blunt huffing out the smoke.

"Maddy I want to tell you something." Y/n said as she looks at Maddy.

"That you like me? I have known Y/n for a very long time. And I did, too, but I was too afraid that you didn't see me that way. So, that's why I dated nate." Maddy said, looking at Y/n with so much love in her eyes.

"Yeah, this was really fun, but I really want to be something more that, and if it's too fast for you, we can just be no strings attached." Maddy said.

Y/n kisses Maddy as she cups her face as she lets go of maddy's face, looking at her with a smile.

"Maddy, I would love to be your girlfriend." Y/n says, smiling at Maddy.

Maddy and Y/n lay back in bed, holding hands with each other with so much love in their eyes.

"I have to go home. My mom wants me home before dark." Maddy says as she puts on her clothes.

"Bye." Maddy says, kissing Y/n leaving her room.

Y/n smiles at herself, thinking about Maddy. She was just happy that her wish came true.

[socialfakes]

this is forever- quinn hughes

this is part 3 in this little series. [previous parts 1 2]

Liked by elblue6, lhughes_06 and 512,331 others

yourinstagram | everything you do for me just makes me fall more in love every day ❤⛸

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elblue6 he’s such a gentleman 😁  | yourinstagram yes he is 😊 thank you for raising him right ❤

jackhughes you two make me sick, but in the nicest way possible 😁  | _quinnhughes you’re jealous 😉

_quinnhughes known you my whole life and I somehow find new reasons to fall in love with you every day ❤  | yourinstagram 🥰

user08 im sorry but im in love with your boyfriend 😁  | yourinstagram no need to apologize. I totally get it ❤  | _quinnhughes im irresistible 😉

edwards.73 glad to see he’s treating you like he should 😄

trevorzegras quinn better be treating you like the queen you are 😁  | yourinstagram oh he is 😁

canucks our captain is a gentleman  | yourinstagram the gentlest of men 😊❤

njdevils we love quinn just as much as jack and luke 😁

Liked by jackhughes, canucks and 497,814 others

yourinstagram | how it started vs how it’s going ❤_quinnhughes

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_quinnhughes you’re a natural, babe 😁

jackhughes he may have complained on day one but he was the one who volunteered 😁 told you he loved you  | _quinnhughes wow. way to sell me out, jack 😂 but I’m not ashamed to admit it 😏

colecaufield he is the best teacher 😁

yourinstagram I really really love quinn ❤  | yourinstagram jack if you don’t get off my instagram, i will reveal all your secrets 😂  | yourinstagram same goes for you too luke 😂

user02 new life goal: to have quinn hughes teach me how to skate 😁

user09 😍😍😍

lhughes_06  I tried to teach you how to skate a few years ago but you refused it. really clear why 😂

jackhughes so cute, it’s kinda gross 😂  | yourinstagram 🖕🏻

happyhughes the love I have for all the hughes boys is immeasurable ❤  | yourinstagram I understand 😁

Liked by _quinnhughes, canucks and 419,287 others

yourinstagram | in a world full of boys, he’s a gentleman 💕💞  _quinnhughes

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canucks the gentlest of men 😊

_quinnhughes i love you ❤  | _quinnhughes but not as much as I love jack 😉  | jackhughes awe quinn 😊  | _quinnhughes jesus jack. stop hacking our instas 😂

jackhughes how come you never tie my shoes for me 😢  | lhughes_06 because you’re not a beautiful girl 😂  | _quinnhughes how do I explain this appropriately…..she does things for me that you just can’t 😂  | jackhughes ewww gross  | yourinstagram 😂😂

elblue6 my sweet boy ❤

user07 god he keeps getting more and more perfect 😍

user05 the most perfect human to ever exist + quinn hughes = perfect couple ❤  | yourinstagram I love you ❤  | _quinnhughes she really is the most perfect human 😍

jackhughes quinn you better marry this woman ❤

Liked by _quinnhughes, colecaufield and 612,304 others

yourinstagram | everywhere i'm lookin’ now, i'm surrounded by your embrace ❤😇 _quinnhughes

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_quinnhughes baby I can see your halo, you know you’re my saving grace ❤😇  | yourinstagram you’re my saving grace

jackhughes a bed selfie? really? 😂  | _quinnhughes we’ll talk later 👀

lhughes_06 feel like i shouldn’t be seeing this 🙈😂  | edwards.73 i feel ya dude 😔

user06 zoom in on their hands 💍  | yourinstagram while they may look like weddings rings, I can assure you they’re not. more along the lines of promise rings ❤  | _quinnhughes maybe one day 😁

elblue6 your relationship is absolutely precious ❤

trevorzegras this is what you ditched us for?  | yourinstagram someone sounds jealous 😉  | trevorzegras you spend all your time with quinn 😢  | _quinnhughes sorry dude  | yourinstagram sorry trev. he does things for me that you just can’t 😏  | lhughes_06 ew 🤢  | trevorzegras eww 🤢  | edwards.73 ewww 🤢  | jackhughes gross 🤮  | yourinstagram jealous babies 🤣🖕🏻

Liked by yourinstagram, jackhughes and 615,243 others

_quinnhughes | i don’t care what we do because as long as it’s with you, I’ll be happy 😁❤ yourinstagram

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yourinstagram that gives me a lot of ideas 😏😉  | jackhughes you guys are disgusting 🤢  | yourinstagram someone’s jealous 😉

trevorzegras I have a feeling that since you’re dating now, all you’re going to post will be pictures in bed 😂

colecaufield lovely

user04 marry this girl quinn. she's perfect 😁  | yourinstagram 😊

edwards.73 why must you guys keep posting pictures of you in bed together? 😫  | yourinstagram oh it’s about to get worse little brother 😏  | _quinnhughes way worse 😉  | jackhughes seriously?  | lhughes_06 give us a break 😂 | yourinstagram never 😈  | _quinnhughes first you guys tell us to give in and admit we’re in love with each other & now you want us to scale it back? make up your minds 😂

Liked by jackhughes, trevorzegras and 537,412 others

lhughes_06 | these 2 invited me & jack over and they haven’t left this position the entire time we’ve been here. guys, our huggy bear really is in love. just look at that smile 😁 yourinstagram _quinnhughes

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_quinnhughes we didn’t stay this way the ENTIRE time 😂  | yourinstagram yeah. we each got up to use the bathroom at least twice 😂  | lhughes_06 okay fine. 98% of the time then 😏

jackhughes awe huggy bear 😏

trevorzegras this is so cute. quinn is so incredibly lucky with the best girl  | yourinstagram thanks trev 😁

elblue6 well sorry to say luke, but what did you expect? they've been like this their entire lives 😂  | yourinstagram i'd stay this way for a thousand lifetimes as long as quinn was with me 😁  | _quinnhughes a thousand lifetimes sounds pretty good right about now ❤

edwards.73 convinced you’re the only one who can make quinn smile 😂  | jackhughes i think you’re right 😂  | user03 it’s cute though  | user01 he’s very cute 😁

quinnsgirlfriend boy is totally whipped isn’t he 😏  | lhughes_06 yes  | jackhughes i think their relationship goes beyond whipped honestly 😂  | yourinstagram you guys are just jealous quinn is in the best relationship he’s ever had 😏  | jackhughes that’s true. it really is the best relationship he’s ever been in and I’m happy for him 😁

user09 I really love this relationship. Quit picking on them luke 😂  | lhughes_06 okay yes ma’am 🤭

Liked by _quinnhughes, edwards.73 and 608,912 others

yourinstagram | the shirt doesn’t lie 😏 _quinnhughes

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lhughes_06 you weren’t lying when you said it was going to get worse 😂

edwards.73 come on quinn that’s my sister for crying out loud 😂

jackhughes love that you love each other but did you have to be that loud? 🤣  | yourinstagram wow jack 🙄  | _quinnhughes you didn’t have to expose us 😂  | jackhughes then don’t be so loud 😂

_quinnhughes I can’t believe how accurate this shirt really is 😂  | yourinstagram 😏❤

elblue6 well then…  | yourinstagram sorry mama 👀  | _quinnhughes sorry 😏

user02 y/n called ellen ‘mama’ & nobody is talking about this 😲  | yourinstagram she’s been my mama since day one 😁 the only mother figure I’ve had for 90% of my life & I love her so much ❤  | elblue6 the daughter I’ve always wanted 😁  | _quinnhughes and the daughter you’re going to get soon 😏

user09 I like the heart on her back 😁  | _quinnhughes gotta mark up what’s mine, right 😏😂

yourinstagram for those of you who need clarification, here’s why the shirt doesn’t lie. Quinn is VERY good with his hands, and not just in a sexual way 😂 his playoff beard is the SEXIEST thing I’ve ever seen 😍🤤🔥 As for the rough part, please refer to the pictures. And finally, there is A LOT of overtime 😉  | jackhughes didn’t need to know 👀  | _quinnhughes ❤ | user01 so they really are sleeping together? I called that from the beginning 😏  | yourinstagram at the time we weren’t because I absolutely hated him 😂  | _quinnhughes but the hate turned into multiple meanings of love 😉