#i was like 'huh do i wanna write romance because i want romance'

[rainylana]

“I’m always going to take care of you.” Alternate version!

Eddie Munson x female reader

summary: this is a new version of my old series i wrote last year. so many people have asked to see more of how eddie deals with such a horrible thing happening to the reader, so here we go, this is for you!

warnings: PLEASE READ! this is purposely written, in the beginning, as fast paced. i was trying to establish a sense of anxiety and fear while writing it because of how quickly it happened. the assault happens differently and does not go into much detail this chapter, but will during the next. i purposely switched povs because i still wanted to give insight to the reader. so with that being said, warnings for this fic include: rape, blood and bruises, broken bones, hospitalization, language, smoking of weed, trauma and shock, lots of tears and angst. please, please, let me know what you thought and if there’s anything i need to go about differently. it’s been a year since i’ve properly revisited this series. i feel like this version will be much darker and will take more of a toll. let me know your thoughts and if anything needs changed. i never spellcheck lol. this one’s for all of us. i see you and feel you. much love, lana.

Steve Harrington’s parties were the kind that were talked about for weeks on end. The music, the food, the house. It was a mansion, and there had been many of times were you and Eddie had slept in multiple rooms of that house, unbeknownst to the owners knowledge.

This party was no different. Bodies were on bodies, beer was spilled and the pool was splashing every drop of water out into the flower bed, that was no covered in trash. There was a basketball court that entertained the jocks. It was an absolute mansion.

You were somewhere. Eddie would see you from time to time getting more beer or a snack, coming over to check on him. He closed his eyes, taking a long drag and leaned against the wall. “Shit, this shit is good.” He coughed slightly, letting his arms fall at his sides, black sleeves pulled up at his elbows.

You found him eventually, hair slightly wet from being splashed at the pool, a towel wrapped around your shoulders. Most everyone was wearing their bathing suits. You smiled when you sat down beside him, laughing at the redness of his eyes. “Feelin good, Eddie?” You tapped his chin.

He grinned at you goofily. “Shit, is the shit, babe. Wanna try?” He offered it to you.

You plopped down on your ass and sat beside him, saying hi to all the others that joined the circle. You laid your head on his shoulder. “Sure you don’t want to come swim with me, Ed? It feels good. Moons out, too. It could be romantic.”

“I give you plenty of romance, darlin’.” He said through hooded eyes, armed laid lazily around your wet shoulders. “Damn, your tits are out!” He exclaimed, finally realizing you had changed, eyes bulging for dramatics.

You laughed and rolled your eyes. “My tits are not out. Everyone is wearing them! You picked it out, don’t you remember?”

“Baby, I’m gonna be honest, I don’t remember much of anything right now.” He was practically drooling at the mouth, giggling like a child and floating off into space.

“Uh, huh.” You gave him a look before turning to the rest of the group. “He’s cut off.”

He was too stoned to realize what you had said, curling up in himself and lulling his head against the wall, eyes drooping closed.

“Eddie, Eddie, oh, okay,” You sighed, watching as he fell asleep. “I’m serious, Gareth, make sure he doesn’t do anything else. I got to carry this guy home, you know.”

You sat with Eddie for almost an hour, making sure he was alright. He always was. He always got tired when he smoked weed, you did too, but not near as much as he did. You gave him a kiss on the cheek, telling everyone else you’d be back and that you were going to change your clothes.

You went to the same room you always did, walked up the same steps and same corridor, the air cool against the exposure of your wet skin. Nobody was upstairs. You had planned for a quick change and nothing more, but you hadn’t any idea what was waiting for you behind the door, or the fact you were being followed.

•

Eddie was in and out of it, waking up here and there if someone spoke loudly enough. Dustin kept laughing, about what, he didn’t know or care. He just wanted to sleep. Later on he would realize that it was probably an act of God that he heard you, because there was no scientific explanation for it. He shouldn’t have heard you.

The music was booming loud, playing a hit from Blondie over the speakers. People were chugging beers, getting high and fucking out in the shed outside, the bedrooms above. The lights were flashing on and off, mixtures of colors painting the walls, their bodies. There was no way he could of heard you, yet he did.

He felt as if he were dreaming at first. His eyes were still closed, body numb from the awkward position he was in. It felt like a loud thumping at first, like something had hit the floor. Then a crash, something had broke. Then a high pitched noise, someone had screamed. It had to have been a dream, because he swore it was you.

Eddies eyes peeled open slowly, foggy and clouded from his high, but he didn’t feel so good anymore, and was left with a chill up his spine. He looked to the right of him to find you gone. “Gareth?” His voice was gravely and deep. “Where’d y/n go?”

Gareth pointed up the stairs quickly, eager to get back to his conversation with Robin about her thoughts on the new Back to the Future movie. Eddie had pushed himself up and found the stairs. It was a mansion, having had to climb four sets of stairs before he could find the hallway. Each set he could hear it clearer. He still shouldn’t have. The music was too loud. He could feel the vibrations underneath his feet against the wood flooring.

He walked quicker and quicker, the sounds of crashing, screaming, begging, becoming louder and louder. Soon, he heard his own name, and he knew it was you. He was running then, as fast as he could to find you. And when he did, the last door on the left, the same room you both had slept in many of times, he was brought to pure horror.

•

You weren’t entirely sure what was happening. Well, you did. You had been raped. You were just confused what was happening now. You were sitting up, staring blankly at the floor. Eddie was down at your feet, saying something, saying a lot of things, actually, but you couldn’t hear him. It sounded like he was underwater. Your ears were ringing, and he kept dabbing his hand under your nose. Were you bleeding?

Your hands were vibrating, along with the other parts of your body, shaking like you were having a seizure. Surely you’d pass out soon. Everything you felt was heightened. The pain, the emotion, or lack of. You soon realized you were going into shock.

You felt everything, yet nothing, all at the same time.

•

Four seconds.

It had taken four seconds for Eddie to react. Four seconds for him to decide what to do. He’d found you bent over the bed, hands pinned above your head and legs split apart. The man above you, twice your size, twice his size, a man he’d never seen before, raping you. It had taken him four seconds to react.

The man above you had stopped when Eddie had come in, staring at him in the act with a look of surprise and shock. Eddie lunged then, knocking the man over and into a side table that crumbled under their weight, a string of punches and curses, the sound of choking and items breaking. There was so much noise, but you didn’t hear any of it. You laid there, bent over, legs spread, a mixture of blood and semen seeping out of you as you stared straight ahead, fixated on the painting in front of you.

Steve and his mom at the beach.

You didn’t hear the sound of Eddie’s cry of pain when your attacker punched the wind out of him, you didn’t hear him run out of the room or Eddie’s footsteps after him, halting halfway and returning back to you. You kept thinking of Steve and his mom. She was so sweet. You really should spend more time with her.

All of that, led to now.

“Baby, baby, please, please, say something!” He panicked, knelt down at your legs, holding your arms to keep you upright, “Oh, God,” He took another look at your legs, covered in blood. “Oh, my god, Oh, my god.” He covered his mouth briefly, not knowing what to do. “Okay, okay,” He jumped up, running to the joining bathroom to grab a towel. “Okay, baby, I got this, see?” He started quickly wiping away at the blood, switching his eyes from his legs to you.

It looked like you’d been killed, or were dying. You said nothing, deathly pale, face stained with tears and mascara, deep bruising that painted your cheeks and eyes purple. Your lip was busted and bleeding. You were shaking with tremors, your breath coming out in little pants that were uneven. You were choking on your sobs, not a single one being allowed out. It hurt to sit, the pain in your abdomen was almost unbearable.

Eddie didn’t realize it himself, but he was also going in to shock. It became harder and harder to get the blood off of you due to his shaky hands, and his breathing become more sporadic and choppy. “I’m getting it, honey. I’m trying.” He said, words coming out in a rush. The towel was stained red when he’d finished, your legs still coated, stained by the blood from inside of you. He looked you over, shaking his head. He didn’t know what to do.

“Y/n,” He gasped, reaching up to grab your face. “Talk to me. Are you hurt? Where does it hurt at?”

You couldn’t look at him. It felt impossible. Your eyes were so heavy. His voice still sounded as if he were underwater, his movements slow, like he was fighting off a current, and you suddenly became freezing, trembling harder like you were out in the snow. Maybe it was the shock.

“Honey, please,” Eddie begged you, eyes tearing up. “I don’t know what to do.”

When he noticed how hard you were shaking, he jumped up and got a blanket from the chair, wrapping it around your body and sitting next to you. “Okay, here, I’m here. Steve!” His scream snapped you out of it, making you gasp and jump.

“No!” Your voice was hoarse, burning as you screamed. “No!” You tried to stand but you collapsed, pointing to the door. “Close the door! Close the door!”

Your urgency made him obey quickly, and he was slamming the door and locking it within a second. “Y/n-”

“You can’t tell anyone!” You sobbed, wobbling on your legs. You were a sight, one that would traumatize him for the rest of his life. “No one, swear it! Let’s just go home!” You we’re a wreck, sobbing, hyperventilating, shaking. Surely you would faint.

“Angel, baby,” He tried to approach you, but you freaked.

“No!” You jumped away. “Don’t- don’t touch me, please!” Was the room getting darker?

“Okay, okay,” He held up his hands, heart racing and bulging, fearful eyes. “I won’t touch you. I’ll stay right here, okay?”

You nodded, mouth opening and closing, feet shuffling, limping, trying to stay upright. Surely, you would faint.

•

His elbows are on his knees, hands pressed against his mouth. The chair he’s in is uncomfortable, an ache in his back that matches the one in his heart. Wayne is there, sitting across from him on the other side of the room. Steve, Nancy, Robin and Dustin are outside in the waiting room, along with the rest of hellfire. He tried to be discreet. Well no, that wasn’t true. When you’d fainted, Eddie lost it.

He’d swooped you up in his arms, carrying you down stairs, a sobbing mess, looking anywhere for anyone, to help. He found Mike first, then Chrissy Cunningham. The party was over very quickly.

“Eddie.” Wayne said tiredly, wearing a puffed, flannel coat. “Why don’t you go home, bud? I’ll stay with her.”

“No.” He didn’t miss a beat. He was staring a hole right through you, eyes so tearful they looked to be made of glass. “I can’t leave her.”

Wayne knew he wouldn’t leave. It was four in the morning, and you hadn’t shown any signs of life. If it weren’t for the machines, Eddie was sure you would have been dead. You were so quiet, not a stir, not a twitch. Were you dreaming? Was it good or a nightmare?

“She’s alright, buddy. You know that.” Wayne could see the telltale signs of his panic attack coming on. “You heard what the doctor said.”

You had abrasions along your vaginal walls. Your nose was broken, now covered with gauze and medical tape. You had two broken ribs, bruises covering your entire body. The doctor had asked him questions he didn’t know the answer to. Eddie knew what had happened, but what had really happened?

You would be okay. He knew that. You were alive and you survived. But were you okay? What would you become when you woke up? You would be totally traumatized, or would you simply move on with life? He knew the answer and he hated himself for knowing it. He knew the pain you were going to suffer when you woke up. He saw it. He saw what it was you would have to endure. A part of him wished you would sleep peacefully forever.

It felt like every vital organ inside of him had been ripped apart, like his stomach had been cut and everything spilled out. He’d thrown up twice since they got to the hospital. It been hours since you both got there. He couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d saw. Your body being used, abused by a man who had beaten you up, raped you, split you open and left bloody.

“Oh, god, Wayne.” Eddie broke down in sobs, shoulders sinking and face hiding into his hands for a shield, a mask to hide from the world. “This is all my fault.”

The image of you had scared his brain, the mental image something he thought he’d never be able to erase. Through everything he had gone through, this moment here, was the worst moment he had ever lived through, and he himself, would make a deal with god if he could, just to take your place, to take it all away. The love of his life was in pain, and it caused him more hurt than he could have ever imagined.

His uncle looked at him, saddened and distraught for the both of you. “Don’t say that, Eddie. You know she’d hate to hear you say somethin’ like that.”

Eddie’s body shook with heavy, deep and broken cries. “It is. I was asleep. I was asleep and stoned out of my mind while she was being raped right above me!” He practically spat the words with a venomous hatred, throwing out his arm as he looked at you longingly. “I failed her. Her, of all people. I fuckin’ failed the one thing I care about most. How the hell am I supposed to live with this?”

Wayne watched him stare at you, stare at you and cry like he was mourning for the entire world, like you had been taken from him.

“How are we supposed to be okay after this, Wayne?” He looked like a little boy then, looking over to his uncle with big, brown eyes. “How can I…how can she ever forgive me?” Another sob, and another. Wayne was sat beside him now, holding his shoulders as Eddie cried.

“You two have been through hell together.” The old man said, on hand on his nephews new. “You’ll get through this. She will and you will. She stood by your side when you were dying, remember? She helped you through it. It did you both in, but you got through it, didn’t you?

He didn’t answer, but he heard his uncle loud and clear. He didn’t know how he’d do it, but he’d help you in every way he could. He owed it to you. You’d patched him up, held him through nightmares and insecurities about his scars. You fed him, helped clothed him and helped him keep himself clean when he was still too sore to move around. You had put your own life on pause for him. He owed it to you to do the same. In his eyes, it was his own fault it happened, anyways.

“Yeah.” Eddie sniffled, wiping away his tears with his jacket. “Yeah, I- you’re right. You’re right. I can help her. I’ll help her. She’ll be okay.”

“She’ll be okay.” Wayne assured him.

He didn’t realize just how hard it was going to be, how a giant rift in your relationship would almost separate the two of you. That the both of you would be forever changed from that night.

Eddie gulped, blinking back tears as he looked at the steady beating of your heart in the vital screen. “She’ll be okay.”

[fairlyang]

Summer Lovin’ 🕷️

in which you have a little summer romance fling

w/c: 3.9K

pairing: greaser!miguel x f!reader

tags: 18+ smut. exhibitionism, making out, sucking on tits, eating out, fingering, praise kink, blowjob. mention of face sitting, overstimulation, 69, eating pussy underwater (LMAO), spilling the tea x2

notes: reposting my precious baby, my fav, my grease au series!! might post part two after this idk but I’m writing part 3 and I’m excited :D 🤝🏼

part two — part three

You had spent almost your entire summer in California, and being from the Midwest you took advantage of the hot weather and beaches.

You had stayed at your aunt's house along with your parents but not your older sister who apparently didn't wanna "burn to a crisp" but you didn't mind. In fact you loved feeling the sun on your skin and spent most of your days on the beach.

Your sister had teased you about a summer fling and maybe you'd meet someone but won't be able to bring them back. You called bullshit and said you weren't out searching for that kinda thing.

That was until you met him.

Miguel O'Hara.

One day you were reading a book on the beach under an umbrella when a guy came up to you and you were a little shell shocked looking at him. He was gorgeous. So handsome.

He asked what you were reading which made you laugh because he did not look like the reading type. He wore a black leather jacket and his hair slicked back, you can imagine reading is not one of his things.

And who the hell wears a leather jacket in the hot weather?

But nonetheless you still answered and he just nodded along probably pretending he knew what you were talking about.

"Well I came over because I thought you were gorgeous." He says giving you a wide smile, showing off his crooked pearly whites.

You chuckle and close your book, leaving it on your lap, "oh I bet a guy like you says that to all the girls." You say playfully rolling your eyes and he shakes his head.

"Only to the really special ones." He responds sweetly and you felt a shiver run down your spine.

And with that you were sold.

Almost too easy.

But it felt real.

Genuine.

You had spent the first three weeks of August with Miguel. Splashing around, building many sand castles, playing volleyball. Tanned while getting to know each other, had little picnic dates on the beach.

It was so surreal to you and he was such a gentleman.

But on the third week was when he was more flirty than usual, always touching you subtly like grabbing your hand or having his arm around your waist.

He would even twirl you around as you walked along the sand which just had you laughing as you tried not to fall.

One specific time he wrapped his arms around you as you watched the sun set, the waves lightly hitting your feet. He gently trailed his fingers along your waist making you turn to look at him, he was already looking at you, with a mischievous look on his face if anything.

He then leaned down, letting his forehead lean against yours, "you're so beautiful."

You smile and feel your body grow warm, "you're not too bad yourself Miggy."

He then let go of you and stood in front of you, bringing a hand up to gently cup your cheek. His eyes were sparkling and he just looked so handsome up close.

The pink, orange, and yellow rays of the sun hitting the sides of your faces as he looked down at your lips. He couldn't help himself.

And he knew he'd never see you again after this considering you'd have to fly back home so what's a little fun on your last week here?

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer which only makes him chuckle, "no patience huh?" He teased and you shrugged.

"We only live once... and we might as well while we're young.." you say and lean up, pretty eyes boring into his.

He was quite shocked that you were the one making the moves but he wanted to be the one to actually do it.

So he did.

He leaned in and kissed you gently, you instantly kissed back and you swore you could feel fireworks erupting in your stomach. It felt so right. So nice.

He nipped on your bottom lip to which you then return as you feel his hands exploring your body. You felt them snake their way down your back then staying by your lower back.

Then you felt them slowly trickling lower to which you had to pull away and shake your head, "eager hm? No patience huh?" You mock and he snickers.

"Couldn't help myself doll." He murmurs and pecks your lips softly.

You melted back into his arms and kissed back before he pulled away and then leaned in to peck your lips again. He repeated this until you burst into fits of giggles which had Miguel ignoring the effect it made on him and pulled away, grabbing you by the hand as you went back to walking on the sand.

Things only progressed throughout your last week.

He snatched more kisses from you until the sun was gone and you had to go home.

The next day he had you on his lap and making out with you while his hand was trailing around your thigh. Only testing the waters.

But also playing around with you.

You were a good girl, not ever looking for trouble like this. But it seemed to have found its way to you.

And you couldn't help but want to open yourself up more to him, maybe not just kisses.

At least those were your thoughts when you were in bed, daydreaming about him.

You met up again on the third day and decided to maybe go a little further. Just a tiny bit.

So you were on his lap again, making out when you start to slowly grind yourself on him. He moaned into your mouth and it only made you grow more excited but you didn't want to push yourself too much.

And he was okay with that.

His hands were on your waist helping you move as his tongue explored your mouth. Gotta love a man that can multitask.

You moved faster and could feel his bulge grow hard beneath you. It made your skin feel hot and deep down you wanted to take it forward but also knew you probably shouldn't.

"Miguel-" you breathed out and pulled away but he latched his lips on your neck, kissing harshly against your skin.

You bite your lip and he made you continue your movements as he hummer onto your skin. "I- I-I think- maybe we s-should st- fuck-" you stutter and moan as he sucks on your neck then pulls away peppering the hickey in kisses.

"What were you saying doll?" He asks and kisses down your chest.

That day you decided to wear a bikini top with some shorts, clearly he appreciated that right now as he kissed your cleavage, bringing a hand up to squeeze your left breast. You moan and feel your eyes flutter, already losing your train of thought.

"W-We shouldn't do this here-" you breathe out but it didn't matter, he was already pulling your bikini top up.

"Miguel!" You squealed trying to cover yourself and looking around but it was vacant.

"There's nobody out here, you know we've been having this side of the beach all to ourselves for weeks." He murmurs and gently moves your hands away.

"So beautiful." He murmurs before squeezing both tits and latching on to your left nipple.

You bit your lip and held onto his head, you couldn't even blame yourself. You knew you wanted this. And that heat going straight to your core was the proof.

He pulled away and immediately sucked on your right breast, pinching your left nipple making you shift on his lap. He moaned against you and you almost forgot he was already hard. Almost.

It was kind of hard to forget since you were directly on him.

So you began to slowly grind on him again making him groan as you moved your hips back and forth. He pulled away and breathed out, "Just like that angel."

Your face flushed and you put your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself as you continued your pace. "Good, good girl." He murmurs before sucking on your left breast, leaving yet another mark.

A moaned escaped your lips and you can see a smirk on his when he pulled away. He looked up at you and pecks your lips before pulling away and taking you off his lap and setting you to his right side on the shared blanket.

He then moved down your body, hands already undoing the button and zipper of your shorts. You lift your ass up and he slides your shorts off setting them to the side.

He then gets between your legs, kissing and squeezing your thighs and he neared where you so desperately needed him. He kissed your left inner thigh then moved to the right side to do the same.

He then went down and looked at the soaked spot on your panties, nearly drooling. "Look at you doll, already so wet." He murmurs looking up at you before leaning in and leaving the softest kiss on your clit.

You moaned and bucked your hips forward but his strong arms kept you in place which only made you whine. But he didn't care.

He was going to go at his own pace. Just like you did when you were on his lap.

Even if he technically was making you a move a bit.

But still.

He gently moved your panties to his right side as you squirmed, whining above him but he ignored you to pay all his undivided attention to your gorgeous sopping cunt. "Oh baby this all for me?" He murmurs and you feverishly nod.

He tuts and smirks looking up at you, "such a dirty girl. Thought you were a sweet innocent good girl?" He teases only making you grow more wet by the second.

"God you're so perfect." He coos before diving full on in to your cunt, immediately getting a taste of how sweet you are.

You moan and bring a hand down to pull his closer already. You needed him so badly and didn't want to waste more time.

And he could tell.

He didn't mind, given how he started lapping at your folds and his nose practically buried in your clit. "Miguel-“ You moan out and he hums sending a vibration of pleasure curse through your body.

You look down at him and buck your hips forward, this time he doesn't stop you, letting you grind your perfect cunt against his mouth. His mouth went up and down your slit, slurping up your juices as you continued your melody of pretty moans for him.

He looked into your ears as he came up and flicked his tongue on your clit earning himself more moans. He brought his hands up and intertwined them with yours as you bucked your hips against his face, grinding yourself against his tongue. "Shit- feels so good Miggy." You moan and he hums against your cunt.

He moans and lets go of your left hand, bringing his right hand to start teasing your hole with the tip of his finger. He pulls away, lips glistening from your slick making you smile as he licks your arousal off. "Need more doll?" He coos and you nod.

"Yes- yes please Miguel." You whimper and he nods, shoving his middle finger inside you.

You groan and your walls clench against his digits as he starts fucking you hard. "Oh fuck!" You moan and grip your right hand against his.

"Feel good angel?" He asks softly and you nod with an almost drunken smile.

"So pretty baby." He mutters and then slides in his second finger immediately pounding his digits into you.

You let out a loud moan and try to close your legs but he quickly let go of your hand and spread them open. "Too much already doll?" He mocks making you whimper.

His fingers were much thicker than yours and you haven't had any other fingers inside you besides your own. At least in a long time.

"Look at you taking them so well." He says and looking at your cunt just sucking his fingers in.

He then shuts up and brings his mouth back to your clit, tongue flicking on your nub while his mouth sucks harshly. Your body was getting hotter and your legs were shaking as you kept them wide open for him. "Fuck!"

His praises only continued and drove your mind wild, and just like that you found out you had a praise kink. And he used that to his advantage.

Mumbling as many praises to you seeing just how much more wet you'd get for him as well seeing how long it'd take for you to just cum off his praise.

And it didn't take long for you to feel your orgasm approach before quickly taking over and your climax hit as he was calling you his good girl.

You let out cries as you came and clenched on his fingers, entire body shaking as he fucked you slowly letting you ride your high.

As soon as your breathing calmed down and he slipped his fingers out of you, you sat up and got him to sit in your position. "C'mon your turn pretty boy." You coo and he chuckles but moves so anyway.

And without another word you laid down between his knees and undid his shorts as fast as you could. You slid them off his legs and left them on top of yours before slipping his cock out of his boxers. You left those on and just started stroking him.

You lean in and lick his tip, tasting his precum and swallowing every drip then spit on the tip and letting it drip down before stroking him again. He let out a shaky breath and you looked up at him with innocent eyes that drove hims absolutely insane. "You look so pretty." He murmurs making you squeeze your thighs together.   

You then took him in your mouth, slowly bringing your head down at first not thinking you'd be able to take all of him considering how thick he was but you were slowly getting there. Only took a few minutes to take half of him before he put his hands on your head and made you take him deeper.

You were gagging against him which only made him thrust his hips into your mouth making you take all of him. You closed your eyes already feeling them fill with tears but you fought through it and took him all the way feeling his happy trail hit your nose.

You pulled away and gasped, panting but then slipped him back into your mouth and letting him do it again but for a longer period of time.

Soon enough you felt him twitch in your mouth as he was deep in your throat. You closed your eyes, breathed through your nose and prayed for the best.

He groaned and his legs shook beneath you as he shoots his load down your throat. You swallowed as much as you could but it was too much so you pulled away and let it fall in his thighs. You start stroking him slowly which makes him whine as his cock twitched at the sudden contact but yet more cum continued shooting out.

"Oh fuck!" He moans as you stroke him and go down to clean it up with your tongue.

You made sure to lick off every drop before finally taking your hand off him and taking notice he was breathing heavily. "Holy shit-" he mutters and grabs your face, bringing you in for a kiss.

You kiss back and he slides his tongue into your mouth, getting a taste of himself which only made you weak in the knees.

He then pulled away and gave you a sheepish grin, "that was- do you really have to leave?" He says and you laugh.

"Sadly. But I still have a few days left!" You say and he chuckles before bringing you into his chest as you both looked up and see a few twinkling stars above you.

And you used those days up to the best of your ability.

Now you told him the one exception was you didn't want to fuck, not there at least.

So the following day he had you wear a dress and made you sit on his face. And he made sure to emphasize "sitting down" because he wanted to feel all your weight on him.

You were scared you'd crush him but he said that'd just be the most badass way to die which only made you slap his arm. But you ended up sitting on his face and it was the best thing you'd ever tried.

You ended up like that for a good few hours before your poor pussy grew tired and you were just so overstimulated.

So you ended up making out until the sun set and you gave him a handjob as well.

The next day was your second to last day before you'd leave and he wanted to try out 69-ing to which you didn't complain about. He had already grown so use to eating you out and did not grow tired of it at all. And he loved hearing your moans, feeling your body shaking.

So he couldn't complain either.

That same day he had the brilliant idea of trying to eat you out underwater, you told him he'd actually die if he did that but he claimed he could hold his breath for a while.

Well it felt weird for both parties and he nearly drowned so that wasn't worth it. But you then stroked him while hiding behind a big rock then you got down to your knees so he could cum on your face.

And finally on your last day you sat next to each other and touched each other until you both came at the same time.

Prior to that you were just spending time together for the final time. He wanted you both to cum as the sun set. How romantic.

As you both got up and got dressed you sighed, sad that your little summer fling would come to an end.

And unfortunately never getting the chance to actually have him fuck you. But nothing lasted forever.

So after the final make out session you both pulled away breathless and you felt sad. But also happy it happened at all. And that you got to meet him.

"If it's meant to be I'm sure you'll get to go all the way in the future." You joked making him laugh and smile.

"Hopefully doll, I'm sure you feel absolutely amazing." He murmurs and you slap his arm before shrugging and giving him a sly wink finally walking away to never see him again.

Or so you think.

Your parents ended up giving you the grand surprise that you weren't actually leaving. You were moving to California.

And the reason your sister didn't come was because they actually gave her the house and her boyfriend was going to move in.

Why they didn't think of telling you before? Who knows but now you were gonna be leaving here and they made you enroll in the nearest university.

Somehow you got in just in time for classes to start to. You didn't have high hopes in seeing Miguel considering he'd told you a couple times he didn't really like university and wasn't really thinking about going back.

And you weren't sure in telling him you weren't going back after all. Especially considering you just had a couple good summer nights together.

So you didn't give it a second thought and just decided that's all it would be. A summer fling.

Not like you had much choice considering you didn't have any way of contacting him anyway.

You ended up going to your first day of uni and met two lovely girls outside who immediately helped you out. Frenchie and Sandy.

They were so sweet and led you to your classes, even having a few with both of them surprisingly.

You ended up having the same schedule layout and you all ended up going to the large dining hall to get something to eat.

You were then introduced to their other three girl friends, Rizzo, Marty, and Jan. Frenchie explained their little group were called the pink ladies which you thought was cute. They all had matching jackets as well.

Suddenly a girl named Patty comes along and the trio roll their eyes and groan. You pretend you don't notice and just take a bite out of the macaroni you got before she sat down next to you and started blabbing about who knows what.

Then Frenchie, a godsend angel, turned to you and asked you how your summer was.

"It was good! Spend most of my time at the beach. Might've met someone there..." you say and Patty beside you giggles but Rizzo just scoffs.

"Laying all your eggs in one basket? For some guy?" She asks and you shrug.

"He was... special." You say and she gives you a fake smile.

"There is no such thing hun." She says and you sigh looking at Patty. "It was so romantic."

On the other end of campus, on some bleachers, the self proclaimed 'T-Birds' were also asking Miguel how his summer went. But he had already told them that he met a girl.

But unlike your reminiscing of the romantic portion of your days together, his friends' immediate thoughts went to the more explicit portion...

"You don't wanna hear all the horny details." Miguel teases and all the guys gather around him yelling at him that they absolutely do.

So you both ended up spilling what you wanted to reveal except you kept your mouth shut on your exhibitions, not wanting to say too much about that.

On the other hand Miguel gave them every dirty detail possible. But for him he couldn't bring himself to tell his friends about the romantic side of how things went.

No way in hell was he going to admit those kinds of feelings in front of the guys. And mostly because they all just fucked around. Even though he knew he felt something besides just when things switched to the dirty side.

And thus you both reminisced on your favorite parts of your time together not knowing you were both on the same campus. Soon enough you'd both run into each other shocked but for now you stayed in your respective friend group.

As you walked out of the dining hall and to your last class Jan asked, "so what was his name?"

"Miguel O'Hara." You replied and her eyes widened as her and Marty burst into giggles but Rizzo smacks them to shut up.

"If you believe in miracles I'm sure Prince Charming will show up again some day. Somewhere unexpected." She says and gives you a smile.

"Think so?" You ask and she nods, grinning ear to ear as the other two girls follow her giggling their heads off.

"Oh you think so Frenchie?" You ask turning to the redhead and she avoids your gaze, awkwardly laughing and grabbing your arm.

She gives Sandy a look before Sandy links with your other arm, "how about we get to class yeah?" She says to you and you nod, questioning what the hell was going on.

[sstardustt3]

Johnny cade headcannonsss

Authors notes- um so my writers block is gone (yipeee) and I decided that from now on this is just going to be a general writing account instead of something focused exclusively on one fandom (I'm still gonna do creepypasta stuff dw) but I didn't realize how much writing for one singular thing burns the fuck out of you so I'm doing this because it's much more easier and I'm gonna upload more because I'm on summer break. Anyways I'm on an outsiders kick rn so this is the result of it

tags/ warnings- mentions of abuse, johnny being a gossip whore, angst, fluff, johnny thinking negatively about himself, brief mention of romance, someone please give him a hug-

-Johnny is really fucking strong despite looking kinda scrawny but he believes no one when they tell him this (he thinks they're just trying to make him more confidant)

-If he did have a s/o then nine times out of then they've asked him to carry them everywhere

-he hates physical contact he can't stand it especially if he's not ready for it like if you hug him from behind. mostly because everytime someone touches him it's to hurt him but also another is because he just hates being surprised

-his body is so unbelievably cold all the time that even if there was a heat wave in the area at like 120*f he would still feel like he's on the brink of dying from hypothermia

-something he picked up from Dally is being rude to people for like no reason he doesn't even do it intentionally he just kinda says the most outlandish rude shit about people and does not even realize it

-adding onto things he's picked up from hanging with dally is how to talk to girls, contrary to popular belief he's actually not (completely) clueless with girls and he can sweet talk if he really wants to (he starts off stumbling like an idiot though)

-he's failling a good percentage of his classes for half the year because he figured that he wasn't gonna go far in life even if he didn't end up dead by 18 and his parents don't care about him enough to check his report cards

-at the end of the year the week before you can't do any more retakes and turn in late work he'll just do everything in one go because he doesn't really wanna be held back (he ends up passing with b's and c's)

-he's actually really good at making shit he has a drawer full of small little trinkets he's made in his spare time

-he learned how to make things to pass the time because before the gang he really didn't have friends and he didn't have a good excuse to go out anyway so he just locked himself in his room and began making things out of paper and rearranging action figures he stole from the junkyard or from second-hand stores

-more than half of his creations look like the shit Sid from toy story made

-he's so oblivous when people like him it's ridiculous and when he does realize they like him he just kinda is like "oh...oh...OH?!!!"

-even when he does like them back his first instance is to distance himself from them he thinks it's something that'll like pass

-he's dyslexic which is why he always makes Ponyboy do his English homework and read his homework to him in general

-adding onto the headcanon about him being cold all the time, for that very reason you'll never catch him out of him dead out of his jacket (well I guess that's not true bc he died without it but wtv)

-another reason is that he has a lot of scarring and bruises from his parents that he hates seeing

-dally was the first person to meet Johnny and he was kinda like "damn look at that little possum...it's coming home with me" and when he asked Johnny his name he had mumbled it so when he said it it sounded like Johnny cakes so for like half a year dally called him that before randomly correcting him

"yeah, so johnny cakes here-"

"Johnny Cade."

"huh? What you say, little man?"

"My name's Johnny Cade, not Johnny Cakes."

"..."

"..."

"are you serious-"

-Johnny's a gossip whore whether he admits it or not. the perks of being quiet and going unnoticed is that people will say there business loud and proud in front of you because they have forgotten you were even there.

-he will without a doubt tell Ponyboy after.

-and since Ponyboy has little to no understanding of the meaning of keeping things to himself he will in fact tell the rest of the gang

*requests for hcs/ or fics are always welcome*

[moonlight-prose]

Hey! Was wondering if I could stop by with a request possibly for Marc or Steven 🙈 + “let me stay like this in you for a little bit.”

No pressure but also thank you in advance 🩷🩷

TO BE LOVED

a/n: i went with steven on this one, because i feel like that'd be more his vibe. wanting to be close even afterwards. also i just miss writing his soft personality and am now upset that he doesn't exist in real life.

summary: "you didn’t intend to give up your heart—believing that you could remain one person without severing yourself in two."

word count: 904

pairing: steven grant x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, fluff, soft steven vibes, p in v sex, a tad bit of body worship, steven losing his mind a little bit, attempts at putting some romance in there.

It was an accident. Falling in love with him.

You didn’t intend to give up your heart—believing that you could remain one person without severing yourself in two. But he was more than you expected. He caught your attention and held it tight. Despite what you originally wanted. He handed you the blade, and you split your heart, offering one half to him in the hopes that he’d protect it. That he’d love you as much as you did him.

“Please love,” he gasped, his hands sliding along your bare body. As if he couldn’t figure out where to touch you—too overwhelmed by the sheer sight of you beneath him. Lost in your own pleasure.

“Steven,” you sighed, hands tugging on his curls as he pressed into you, his hips meeting yours—a shaky breath being forced from your chest.

Sliding your hands down his back, you felt him shudder above you, his eyes clamped shut. He seemed to be right on the precipice. Barely able to keep himself from falling off if the way he dug his fingers into the sheets beneath you was any indication. But you wanted him to fall. Desired the sight of him coming more than you wanted to come yourself.

“I need you to—fuck,” he dragged in a lungful of air, hips stuttering with each thrust.

You wanted to tell him that he could let go, give over to the mind-numbing pleasure that ate away at him. But words were not an option anymore. He had found the angle that sent your head flying back into the pillow, your thighs tightening around his hips. Steven felt it before you could get the words out. Your walls clamping down around is cock, a rush of slick pooling at the base and smearing against the top of his thighs.

A ragged grunt was punched from his chest, his body pitching forward until he was pressing you down into the mattress. The added weight only made you feel so much more. As if Steven was filling you to the brim with his warmth, his overwhelming love that you craved.

Pressing a kiss to his shoulder, you rolled your hips the best you could, but he’d pinned you down. Barely pulling out with each thrust. He wanted to carve a place for himself inside your heart, but there was no use. The place existed the second you met him.

He whined, his lips smashing roughly to yours, teeth clacking slightly together, but you didn’t care. Not when he was licking each and every heady sound out of your mouth and swallowing it with sounds of his own.

“You close love?” he breathed, his eyes fluttering open and greeting you with the sight of his eyes glazed over with lust. The clarity was gone, because all he could focus on—all he could comprehend—was you and the feeling of your impending orgasm.

You nodded, nails scratching against his shoulder blade. “Uh huh.”

A smile flashed across his face. Eyes lighting up at how he was able to render you speechless, incoherent mumbles of his name and breathy I love yous falling from your lips. You were so far gone, but you loved it that way. For how nervous and shy he was when you met, Steven was more than capable in turning you into a fucked out mess. His hand gripped your thigh, pushing it up higher as he grinded deep. Clearly enjoying the broken sob that tore from your chest, your walls fluttering around him.

“Wanna feel you baby.” His hand slipped down, fingers finding your pulsing clit. His thumb barely touched you, pressing down with enough pressure to snap the built up pressure in your stomach.

Your mouth fell open, a choked out sob breaking free as you came. Crashed over the edge and drowned in the pleasure that filled your body. You heard him curse above you, his head burying into your shoulder as you dragged him down with you. His lips pressed to your shoulder, hands sliding up your waist to cup your breasts lightly—soothing you and working you through both your highs.

Five minutes went by and you struggled to stay awake. His soft touches and light presses of his lips lulled you to the brink of sleep. Something told you that he knew it. Except you could feel the mixture of your cum begin to slip out even as he softened inside of you. You’d have to get up and clean yourselves, possibly change the sheets, but his body heat—the weight of him—it all pushed you towards sleep.

“Steven,” you slurred slightly, your body still trying to catch up.

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice fairing no better. There was a tinge of red on his cheeks, spreading down to his chest. You wanted to take a picture of him just like this—keeping it forever to remember how beautiful he was.

“We’ve got to—” you fought against the yawn. “Get up.”

He shook his head, lips pressed to yours softly and drawing out a soft moan that had his cock twitching. “Let me stay like this in you for a little bit. Please.”

“‘M gonna fall asleep,” you grinned, hands running through his curls.

A soft sigh was pressed into your mouth. “That’s okay. You can sleep love. I’ll be sure to wake you up.”

“You promise?” you murmured.

He nodded, a soft smile spreading on his lips. “I promise.”

[elliereject]

ifhy .2

* in which ellie’s obsession relationship with you begins to sour as your romance with your new boyfriend seems to flourish. it seems she’ll stop at nothing to ensure your happiness, (which you’ll find with her, obviously) even if it means hurting you in the process.

* lowkey obsessive ellie, ellie beats someone up, angst + comfort (next chapter(s), infidelity, unrequited feelings yet also mutual pining (just read it like, idk idk I forgot how to do these),lmk if I missed anything!

* HELLLLLOOOO!? oh my god 100 likes on part 1 and over 100 followers??? ty? so much?? <3 the next parts almost done so I gotta tweak some things but I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it! I meant to post this like 2 days ago but I fell asleep editing…

* mdni

* wc ~ smth like 1.8k

pt .1 here ★ pt .3 coming soon

“Are you seriously wearing that?” You sighed, flopping back on Ellie’s twin bed.

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” Ellie asked, eyeing her worn skinny jeans and a black oversized hoodie.

“First, there’s a hole in the side of your hood. Second, you wore that 3 times this week already.”

“No, I didn’t. These are different jeans!”

You groaned, “Ellie it’s a party, live a little.”

She let out a small laugh, “Says you, you were literally on the verge of throwing up like 5 minutes ago. Did whatshisname text you?”

She crossed her fingers in hope that he hadn’t.

You rolled your eyes, “You know his name, and he said he got there about 20 minutes ago and’ll meet me near the living room.”

“Cool, cool.” She said stiffly. “We should probably get going then.”

You jumped up from the bed, practically skipping over to the door. “Finally, you take a surprisingly long time to get ready.”

She didn’t. She was just trying to drag out the amount of time she had before she saw you clinging to your boyfriend and laughing at his stupid jokes.

She was still trying to find a way to show you that he was a dick and she was what you needed but all the ideas she had ended up with him dead and while she was considering it, you probably would have a hard time forgiving her.

The two of you trekked down to the elevator and while your back was turned she couldn’t help but imagine what it would feel like to slip her hand into yours. How would you react? Would you recoil? Or would you squeeze her palm? Ellie was never really a touchy person yet she made some exceptions when it came to you, however nothing as intimate as hand holding.

And something screamed at her, begging her to try. Her fingers itched by her leg and before she knew it she was stretching out her arm.

Close…so close she could feel the warmth radiating off you.

In a moment you whipped around and she didn’t have enough time to retract her hand.

“What are you doing?” You asked, tilting your head in a way that made her heart ache.

“You just had a uh– a piece of lint.” She lied easily as she picked nothing off your sleeve.

“Oh, thanks! Easier to get rid of then a hole, huh?” You let out a giggle and stuck your finger through said hole, she forced a laugh.

The rest of the ride down Ellie urged herself not to have any more daring thoughts.

Once down, you cracked jokes about your professor and weirdos in your classes, and Ellie tried her best to laugh along, all the way to the frat where the party was being held. Once you made it, you shoved past the sweaty bodies in the living room to look for your boyfriend whilst Ellie shrunk into the kitchen to confide chat with Jesse who was busy chugging a twisted lemonade.

“Jesse. I want you to thank God you aren’t a lesbian.” Ellie groaned, pulling the drink from his lips and taking a swig herself.

“Shit. What happened now?” He sighed, reaching past Ellie to grab another. Ellie’s been moping about you to Jesse for a while now, although he doesn’t really know it’s you because she doesn’t wanna fuck up the way her friends view your guys’ relationship.

“I was walking behind her earlier before we got into the elevat— classroom. And I was like 5 seconds away from grabbing her hand.”

“And why’s that a bad thing? I thought you liked her.” He asked in between sips.

“Because she has a fucking boyfriend! And that would’ve been so embarrassing I think I would’ve bit off my tongue and killed my self right there.”

Jesse let out a low whistle and Ellie crossed her arms. “Don’t you have any advice for me, or are you just gonna stand there?”

The man shrugged, “You’re not gonna like what I have to tell you. Have you tried talking to Joel about any of this?”

Ellie shook her head with a sigh, “He’s busy with work as is, I don’t wanna bother him with this shit when I barely even get to talk to him.”

“Well then, you should prob—hey! ★ what’s up?”

Their conversation was cut short as you walked into the crowded kitchen. With no luck in the living room, you decided to retreat there to talk with your friends while periodically checking your phone for any missed calls or texts.

Ellie noticed the worried look on your face. “Hey, hey. He’ll call. And if he doesn’t he’s a fucking idiot.”

She urged you to try and live in the moment and reassured you again that’d he’d call soon, even though she hoped and prayed he didn’t.

You gave her a small smile and muttered “I guess.” Before taking the red solo cup she offered you and downing it. Eventually, Dina joined your little trio and you temporarily forgot all about him since you were having so much fun chatting with your friends.

Ellie, still smiling, excused herself to the washroom after announcing she had to piss and thank god she did because the scene she stumbled upon literally made her laugh with joy. She had been looking for a reason to beat the fuck out of your boyfriend and did she find it.

After mistaking one of the bedrooms for the washroom—since every fucking door in that house looked the same—her eyes immediately landed on the familiar lanky figure who was shacking up with some tiny brunette bitch.

“No fucking way!” She guffawed, completely amused.

“Please, it’s not—“ Your boyfriend started, pulling his lips from the girl and straightening out his shirt.

“I’ve been looking for a reason to beat your sorry ass! This is just perfect.” She laughed manically as she stomped into the room, slamming the door behind her and cracking her knuckles.

The girl he was previously with was shaken to her core, and practically sprinted out of there. Before he could get out another word, Ellie’s fist was already crushing his face.

“You dick, God I knew you were an asshole but this is just—wow! Cheating on her when she is most definitely the best you could ever do?” Another punch and he was on the ground.

Blood was leaking from his nose and his lip was split. Suddenly she was on top of him, her fists flying. His glasses were broken and tears ran down his face pathetically.

She’d bottled up her emotions for so long; her love for you, her jealousy towards him, her anger at the entire situation, that it all muddled together and bursted the bottle, sending shards everywhere.

Ellie has always been an innately intense person, but this, pummelling something that deserved it, someone that she’d been fantasizing about beating the shit out of ever since she’d met them. It felt good.

“Pl-please stop.” He begged, and she halted her fists, but only for a moment.

She scoffed. “Stop? Stop. Man, I should rip your tongue out. Maybe that’ll finally shut you up.”

His eyes widened as he scanned her eyes for any sign of sympathy, of mercy, but all he found was icy green.

“You’re fucking crazy!” He shouted, trying and failing to shimmy her off him.

She shrugged, “Maybe.”

She was about to throw another fist but she heard frantic footsteps speeding toward the room.

“Shit..” She tapped the side of the guy’s face harshly as he was beginning to black out. “Listen, you’re going to get up. Hop out the window and take your ass home, if someone asks what happened say you got jumped. You’re not going to look at ★ again, text her, call, or even breathe near her. Transfer out of her classes and if I even get the idea that you’re thinking of contacting her again, I will find you. And I will rip your tongue out, got it?”

He nodded wildly and she finally got off of him. She watched as he scurried toward the window and hopped out, it was only a few feet, he’d live.

Ellie wiped her stained hands on the inside of her sweater and opened the door just as the brunette from before was about to, she was standing next to one of the frat guys.

“What’s going on?” Ellie said easily, putting a charming smile on her face and hiding her hands in her pocket.

“Where is he?” The brunette asked worriedly.

“Who? It’s just me in here.” Ellie said looking around confused.

The frat boy looked behind Ellie and them at the girl before sighing and turning back around, “Don’t bother me again. Just enjoy the party.”

“B-but—“ She immediately shut up when Ellie shot her a malicious glare.

She strolled out of the room and back toward the main floor to see you sulking on the couch, checking your phone.

“What happened?” She asked, sliding next to you and resting her arm behind you on the cushions.

“He still hasn’t answered.” You pouted.

And for the first time in months she shot you a genuine smile, despite the fact you were talking about him. “I wouldn’t worry about it, don’t think you’ll hear from him anytime soon.”

You smiled at her and she shot you a weird look, “What?” she asked.

“Nothing..you just seem a little happier than usual.” You said, leaning into her arm.

“Yeah, I guess I am.”

tagz ଳ (send me a message to be added!)

@bready101

[animentality]

I just wanna say that while I don't ship either of them myself, I respect that the ships that don't become canon, like Drarry and Zutara, will always have much more powerful and diverse communities than the ships that become canon.

You can't tell me that more people ship Harry and Ginny RIGHT NOW than Drarry, or that Zutara's fanbase is less active than Kataang's. I was in the tag an hour ago while on a megalomaniacal rant in discord, and literally most of it is Zutara things, and it's been like what. A decade? Still going strong off of scraps, huh? I admire it.

When a ship becomes canon, people celebrate in the moment and then move on. You get smatterings of people who re watch the series, and do some doodles here and there. But the ship dies with the fandom itself, because a canon ship is not even a ship, it's just part of the story. And it's not the most interesting part of the story most of the time, especially in a series as richly packed as atla. the romance isn't done that well, it's barely focused on. and that's fine, but it's not the thing atla fans really talk about to this day...

you don't see atla fans talking about how epic the kataang romance is. not really. that whole genocide is bad plot is far more interesting.

But when a ship is entirely nonsensical or only lightly hinted at, or maybe just entirely theoretical but intriguing narratively...

that ship can go on for years.

The lack of content is paradoxically what makes the fandom content even better.

Fans can do anything they want with an empty sandbox, and thus fans become creatives in their own right, constructing a canon that fits their own interests.

And that's far more intriguing to consider because of it.

A Kataanger can write about katara and aang getting married, but canon already did that. How interesting could that really be? the creators did that and it was whatever.

a Zutaran, meanwhile, is writing a whole new story and mythos based on the meager scraps they were fed a decade ago. They're totally re writing canon and reconstructing a narrative about opposing sides coming together in the form of their narrative representatives.

they're red blue shipping, fire and ice/water, sun and moon, enemies to lovers, the sunshine and the grump, bad boy x good girl, learning to forgive, redemption arc, theyre basically dispensing with canon and writing a psychopathic descent into their own psyche.

they're making entirely different stories because they were dissatisfied with an aspect of the one they got.

and frustration/need breeds creativity. it stirs the imagination.

if you were satisfied with your ship becoming canon, you celebrate and then you move on.

if your ship never got its chance...

well. you could spend a life time wondering what if.

and you're thinking well of course a durgetash crack shipper would feel this way... and you're right.

but I'll be here. I'll be here still thinking about durgetash long after the last Astarion x Tav shipper has gone.

it's the small things. it's the blank slate, the holes with potential. it's the little gaps in the concrete of canon, where the most twisted but entertaining weeds grow and can never be destroyed, not fully, not permanently.

[fanaticsnail]

I have no words because I have been thinking about an Anastasia Au with one piece for so long. It's literally the perfect movie for it. This is courtesy of one of my favorite scenes from Anastasia.

Shanks: Stop fiddling with that thing. Sit up straight. Remember you're a grand duchess.

Y/N: *slouches and crosses arms* How is it that you know what grand Duchess' do or don't do?

Shanks: I make it my business to know. 😏

Y/N: Oh..😒

Shanks: Look, I'm just trying to help, alright?

Beckmann: *rolls eyes*

Y/N: Shanks, Do you really think I'm Royalty?

Shanks: You know I do

Y/N: Then stop bossing me around.

Beckman: *smirks* She certainly has a mind of her own.

Shanks: *jokingly* Yeah. I hate that in a woman.

Y/N: *sticks out tongue*

Beckmann: *slyly takes out paper and gives Y/N two tally marks*

Shank Y/N

IIIII II IIIII IIIII

IIIII II

(Sidenote: I'm sorry I have written that Beckmann fic I told you about, I've been so busy. 🥲~🌈🎶)

The way I am desperate to write this scene in particular 🥹👌.

There are a couple of things holding me back from deep diving into this concept:

Finishing Sapsorrow for Mihawk, starting Sands of Time for Sir Crocodile and Forge in Gold for the Donquixote Brothers. I have written a little bit for the latter two - but I really wanna finish the first one before I fall down the rabbit hole of a new series. Because, lets face it, this is gonna be a series.

Naming a Reader: considering the concept has a named princess in mind, I would have to give them a name to aim for. The way I'd go about it is giving them an incredibly long, titled name that they believe themselves is too obnoxious to refer to themselves that way. I don't write "y/n" or "name" or "reader" for the insert to refer to themselves as their working station title (boatswain, counsellor, chronicler) or a pet name. I dunno why, but I do. Not sure how to go about it. Might have Shanks call her "Brat" or "Bossy", and have Beckman call her "Princess" or "Ms Royalty" - I dunno, I'm open to suggestions!!

Shanks is an enigma. He's not one of the main ones I write for, mostly because of my love for his first mate. I need to really focus on his character to get a grasp on him. I feel like he's suited best for this concept, so I'll be running with him. Just gotta think real hard.

The Villain: I need Buggy to be Bartok so bad. So, so bad. But I don't want to villainize Sir Crocodile, which could make the most sense as a scheming advisor. I would have to make them an OC, and that will take a little bit of time. Smol-Snail (@since-im-already-here) might have some thoughts, huh sis? (Help me, bestie. You have the best ideas for concepts. See "WhEn aRe YoU gOnnA WriTe THe SapSoRRoW FIc")

My WIP list is expanding with an insane amount of requests being chucked in my ask box. I feel like I should close requests for now so I can get through those. It's getting a little overwhelming, truthfully.

BUT I WILL WRITE THIS! Fairytale Aus and romance are my thing, and I love them. Sappy romance, twists and turns, dialogue banter - I love it.

@since-im-already-here, @writingmysanity & @lightningstriker deserve a Shanks series, especially with a childhood favourite.

[melodygatesauthor]

Hiii could you write smut 34 with aftercare as romance no 8 with poe ? I feel like 34 would be him pressing your stomach while inside you 😩

Look At That

Poe Dameron X f!Reader

SAY LESS BABE! I was foaming at the mouth over this.

Tags/Warnings: NSFW, reader is smol, belly bulge smut, pwp

Word Count: 438

“You sure you wanna do this?” Poe asked with his cock resting at your entrance.

“Yeah.” You said, eagerly nodding.

“Ok.” He said pushing into your wet heat, all the way to the hilt. “Shit.”

You winced a little, feeling how full he made you. He groaned as he slid as deep as he could go.

“Mm baby, you’re so tight.” He said, leaning back so he could look down at you.

He wanted to see the way his cock slid in and out of you. He exhaled sharply with each thrust, you saw his dark brow furrow with a look of confusion.

“Oh, can you feel this?” He asked, looking at your abdomen.

You were so small that his hand looked huge against your stomach. You could feel the pressure of him pushing against his own cock while it bulged your abdomen outward. You’d never felt so full before, you’d never had someone so big before.

“Y-yeah I can feel that.” You said with a moan.

“Oh fuck baby, that’s something huh?” He was still pressing his palm against you.

It felt good, like a little added pressure against his girth while he continued churning his hips; and never mind how it looked. Seeing your belly stretch out because of his sheer size brought him a sense of pride…he was fucking you, he was defiling you.

When the two of you reached your climax, it was explosive.

“You gonna come for me, pretty baby?” Poe asked you, just before you whined, eyes rolling into the back of your head.

He wasn’t far behind.

“Yeah, I don’t know if it’s all gonna fit in…oh shit.” He slammed into you fully.

You felt it, the cum gushing into you and squeezing out the sides with his final thrusts. His face was always beautiful, but it was even more so when he was mid-orgasm. His precious lips had fallen open, and his eyes were closed, satisfied.

He pulled out of you with a wet sound. He looked down at your seeping cunt and smirked.

“Heh, look at that, so pretty.” He went to the bathroom and returned with a warm, damp towel. “Just lay still, let me clean you up.”

You felt a smile creeping over your face while he ran the warmth over your folds and inner thighs. He was gentle and sweet.

“I love you.” You said to him softly.

He looked up from his work and caught your eye. You could swear you saw his start glistening.

“I love you too, baby.”

You leaned forward, pressing your lips to his gently.

“Tonight was just perfect.” You said.

Melody's Birthday Celebration

[lukabitch]

Ok I think I’m so funny for this but what if a survivor called Danny, Deathslinger, trickster, Pyramid head and Michael a baby girl on accident. Like read just says “Good luck with that baby girl” or something along those lines. It’s honestly something I would do without thinking about it.

Also if you wanna add this maybe there has been romantic tension between the reader and the killers before this happened? Only if you want to add it

Omg? This is among the best request I’ve gotten. First time writing for Deathslinger so sorry if I get anything wrong. Thank you so much for the request Anon! :)

Tw: none this is pure comedy and romance

Ghostface:

What?

He’s not your baby girl! He’s your baby boy get it right! >:(

He’ll take it in a more joking manner. He’ll laugh it off.

Though he couldn’t deny his heart skipped a beat.

He’ll try to turn it around on you. Calling you baby, babe, etc.

This just makes the tension between the two of you worse.

The two of you would go back and forth teasing each other.

Eventually it would come to a head with you pinned under him.

He’ll give you a quick peck on the cheek and leave you flustered. :)

Deathslinger:

Fuckin huh?

He’s so confused. Why did you call him baby girl?

He will go into angry old man mode.

“What did you call me runt!?” He can be very rude. >:(

Though he can’t exactly explain it. He just wants to hear you call him baby again. Just minus the girl.

Man those thoughts made him crazy. Why did he like it?

He isn’t the type to know how to handle his emotions. It mainly comes out passive aggressive.

You would pick up on this and pretty much help him sort out his emotions.

Congrats you now have a grumpy grandpa for a boyfriend! :D

Trickster:

Oh? He likes that!

He’s never been called that one before! Definitely a thrilling thing for him.

This man’s flirt game is off the charts when it comes to you.

He loves to call you baby girl back as a joke. If you are uncertain with that he’ll apologize of course.

He hadn’t really thought about why he liked being called baby girl though.

The tension between the two of you was magical to him. He just loved it.

He would tease you and you would tease back more. The perfect dynamic for him.

Though things do come to a head.

I hope you like kissing in a locker because that’s what happened. :)

Pyramid Head:

What do you mean?

He faintly understands what you said. Very faintly understands.

It did make him feel something new. Something he didn’t think he could feel.

It was weird for him. Love isn’t an emotion that he felt before.

That being said he’ll just stand very close.

Like extremely close to the point your just pushed against his chest.

You didn’t mind and would just make jokes about it.

“Wow you sure do like that huh?” You gave him head pats.

Now he comes to you for head pats and comfort. :)

Micheal Myers:

He’s never had that big of a grasp on gender and things like that.

I mean he was stuck in a hospital that dehumanized him for years.

He’d just think your talking to him like normal. That was until someone pointed it out.

He really didn’t care he actually liked it.

He’d just pick you up and hug you like a teddy bear.

If you give this man more attention he will lap it up.

He likes to press his mask against your lips. It’s his way of giving kisses.

“Aw Mikey you like being called that? How cute.” He really likes it when you tease him.

He loves you and he won’t let you forget that.

Again really sorry for the delay. I hope you like it. :)

[chuuyrr]

Hello I am a huge fan of both of your series. I wanted to make request for your infinity series. I have a few Ideas:

Where Dazai and the reader has a mission and have to travel in a bus or a public convince. Since I do it all the time I relate to it a lot.

Writing their name on their palm

slow dancing

souvenir from travels

Pleasee I would love to see your imaginations in this you can any of them no issue i just gave a few ideas it really depends on u how you wanna write it. Hope you see this request,

LOVE YOU A TON<33333

to learn is to love

bungou stray dogs x gojo! reader

masterlist of infinity

╰➤ CW(s): slight angst to fluff/comfort, hint of romance between reader and dazai osamu, and clingy! dazai

╰➤ PAIRING(s): dazai osamu

╰➤ SONG SUGGESTION(s): untouchable (taylor's version)

╰➤ SYNOPSIS: you and dazai osamu have been assigned to work on a mission together due to your organization's affiliation with the armed detective agency. the two of you commute, riding a public transportation, and as you do, you find yourself learning something from this experience.

before you read: hey there! in case you're new, this is a oneshot series bungou stray dogs x gojo! reader which means you have gojo's surname, six eyes, and cursed technique which is an ability for the sake of this fic. for more information please see the masterlist of the series.

you couldn't help but hate dazai osamu, the man who was capable of making you vulnerable with just a simple touch. you didn't like how he easily breaks down your walls—the infinity you can manipulate with your limitless ability.

it's just that you're the strongest ability user. you're the honored one throughout heaven and earth, blessed with the god sugawara michizane's six eyes, and yet dazai makes you incredibly less than zero in an instant.

it's simply infuriating.

that is what you would like to think.

you may have recovered the stolen documents on the god of skies and resolved the conflict between the armed detective agency, the port mafia, and heiwa, your own organization, but your ego was already shattered. it was shattered, and to make matters worse for you, heiwa had decided to tie up with the armed detective agency, which meant only one thing: you were bound to see dazai again in yokohama.

shouldn't you like dazai osamu more?

he’s practically a carbon copy of you.

you were childish, just as dazai osamu was childish; dazai was intelligent and regarded as a force to be reckoned with because of his ability, and so were you. both of you were also members of powerful organizations.

you shook yourself free of your thoughts as you stepped onto the platform, exiting the train that had taken you from shibuya to yokohama.

this was not the time to reflect on your emotions. you were on a mission right now. the first thing you needed to do was find dazai and talk to him about the mission that heiwa had arranged with the armed detective agency, but you quickly crossed that off your list when a familiar voice rang out from within the small crowd.

"[name]-chan!~"

you found the tall young man with mildly wavy, short, dark brown hair and narrow dark brown eyes by flitting your gaze up despite the black blindfold adorning your eyes—that was quick.

"yo, dazai," you smiled nonethless, pushing every thought to the back of your mind as you raised a hand to greet dazai as he darted towards you.

"ahh~ i missed you so much, belladonna! i was so excited when i heard from the boss earlier that you and i were going on a mission together," dazai exclaimed, blatantly ignoring your raised hand and instead wrapping his arms around you.

"missed me that much, huh?" you chuckled as you lifted your hand and ruffled dazai's locks of hair, ignoring the sense of vulnerability he was giving you due to his very close physical contact with you through his clingy embrace.

"of course! how could i not?" dazai giggled as he drew away from you and released you from his embrace, "come on, let's talk about it on our way out of the station," he exclaimed, extending his arm for you to link your own with.

you scanned your surroundings quick.

it should be fine if you don't have your infinity up, right? even if dazai's no longer human ability was capable of nullifying your infinity and limitless ability, your six eyes were still functioning, and you will still be capable of fighting in hand-to-hand combat without any ability.

sigh, you just hate the vulnerability this man gives you.

“[name]-chan?" dazai called out to you, his head tilted.

"it's nothing!" you shrugged it off and proceeded to link your arms with his, making dazai happy because you were forced to bottle up your feelings about this. to avoid getting him suspicious, you masked it further with enthusiasm: "let's go, dazai-kun!"

"we shall!" dazai seemed to buy it and returned your smile with one of his, extremely happy you accepted his arm and linked yours to his.

you and dazai exited the station together, discussing the mission at hand. apparently, the other detectives, such as kunikida, kyouka, atsushi, and tanizaki, had separate missions or reports to complete. fukuzawa was accompanied by ranpo. with everyone else occupied, there was only dazai and you.

to be fair, you were highly needed for this task. you can easily navigate politics and large families with connections as the heir and head of the gojo family. the gojo family currently sits atop the hierarchy of the big families that make up heiwa and maintains the balance of power, both in your organization and in the city of tokyo, thanks to your prowess. this also gives you the ability to act selfishly and impose your political power.

you and dazai were tasked with coordinating with this particular family and gathering information from them because they refuse to speak to anyone else. a car would have been preferable, but the armed detective agency's cars was already in use, and walking was not an option. if you were in tokyo or even in oyoto, you could normally call someone for a ride, but you were in yokohama at the time.

you were about to pull your phone from your pocket and ask anyone to drive you and dazai from whoever is possibly and miraculously available here in yokohama when he suggested otherwise.

"let's just take the bus! it'll be fun!" dazai exclaimed exuberantly.

"the bus?" you wanted to groan.

you wondered if it was the spoiled child in you because you didn't want to take the bus. a train or a private car would have been preferable, but you were in yokohama. you weren't in your city.

"imagine us as two lovers riding the bus together. ugh, what a chance it is to have with you, [name]-chan!" dazai sighed dreamily.

"fine, let's just go so we can get this over with," you sighed, holding the nape of your neck.

"do you not want to ride the bus?" dazai asked, blinking as he noticed your uninterested tone.

“huh? no, it's n-not that," you scratched the back of your neck while smiling at him.

a teasing smirk appeared on dazai's lips as you stared at him, "you can't fool me, [name]-chan," dazai said, placing both hands on his hips, "you've never taken a bus before, have you?"

at this, a nerve protuded on your temple, "hey!that's not true! what do you take me for?!"

"aside from the train and cab, have you ever taken a bus before then?" dazai raised an eyebrow at you, still holding a smirk.

"tch, of course i have..." you scowled as you folded your arms across your chest.

"you seem to be on the defensive about this. i specifically asked you if you'd ever ridden a bus before," dazai exclaimed, a smug expression on his face, "and that isn't a pretty straightforward answer."

"i swear to god, if i could, i would have infinite voided your ass by now..." you huffed at dazai.

"and that absolutely sounds ideal if it were possible, [name]-chan," dazai giggled, placing a hand on his chest before shaking his head with a smile, "but you know i can't really blame you if you haven't actually rode a bus before. given your background and family, you must have been spoiled rotten, especially when you were younger, right?"

you remained silent, unable to respond to dazai's statement because it was true. you had everything you could have ever wanted growing up as the head and pride of the gojo family, with your limitless and six eyes.

you could get money, luxury items, servants, cooks, and any transportation and travel you wanted because you had the golden spoon.

"but that's okay, this can be a fun learning experience for you," dazai said cheerfully, causing your eyes to widen from behind your blindfold.

despite coming from the all-powerful and wealthy gojo family, you had to learn that you wouldn't get everything you wanted. however, the fact that dazai doesn't seem to mind made your heart somewhat warm and fuzzy.

"i also think it's perfect, because you can be my sugar mo—" yeah, you spoke too soon.

you and dazai left and headed to the bus station. as simple as that, dazai paid for the ride and led you to the bus you two will be riding. you noticed that it was a little crowded, similar to how the train was sometimes when you traveled here from shibuya. however, due to the seating arrangement, it was more cramped.

"let's sit here, [name]-chan," dazai gently pulled you by the arm and led you to the two empty seats in the middle of the bus.

you followed, sitting by the window, while dazai took the seat beside you near the aisle. you watched as dazai leaned in towards you, standing up just enough to grab the curtain that covered your window and push it away.

you'd be lying if you said your chest felt strange because of your proximity to dazai. he was very close. as a matter of fact you could lean your head against dazai's torso with this closeness.

"there we go," dazai smiled, sitting back down after adjusting the curtain so that you could see out the window.

"thanks," you replied, clearing your throat.

"you comfy? it's not so bad right?" dazai asked, leaning boldly against your shoulder to nuzzle his head against the crook of your neck.

"stop treating me like i have ridden a public transportation before," you whined, sticking your tongue out at him as you pulled away and flicked his forehead, causing dazai to yelp a small "ow".

"waaahh! you're such a meanie, [name]-chan!" dazai stroked his forehead with a fake pout.

"heh, that's what you get," you declared triumphantly, folding your arms across your chest and leaning back further into your seat. "anyway, how long will we take to get to hiragi corps?" you sighed as you pulled down your blindfold to rub your eyes after covering them for too long.

"it should take us about ten to fifteen minutes since there are stops ahead," dazai explained with a small sigh.

"alright," you nodded, returning your gaze to the view outside your window, "you and i are in luck. i'm actually quite familiar with the hiragi corps."

"after all, you're gojo [name], so it should go swimmingly," dazai exclaimed with a lazy smile as he folded his arms.

"darn, right i am," you chuckled as you closed your eyes, a smile creeping across your face.

dazai watched as you leaned your head against the window, your beautiful six eyes unveiled, and stared out the window at the stores, passers-by, and cars. your [color]-dyed hair delicately framing your face as he stared until his gaze reached your plump lips.

"keep staring, honey," you said abruptly, your lips curving into a smirk as you directed your gaze to dazai, who had been staring at you.

"i could stare at you all day," dazai exclaimed, laughing, "and i'm not even kidding."

"yeah?" you raised a brow at him.

"well, it's just amusing to see the beloved [name] of the gojo family riding, uh, a bus for this mission?" dazai teased, smirking once again, "when you could have called for a car or something a little more extravagant."

"tch, of course i would ride one," you grumbled.

"are you sure you weren't forced and genuinely wanted to?~" dazai raised a brow.

"what are you trying to say?" you furrowed your brows

"nothing!" dazai laughed as he leaned against your shoulder once again.

"stop teasing and fawning over me, honey," you said, pinching his cheek.

"but i can't help myself, you're just too pretty to not be clingy for!" dazai whined, wrapping his arms around your neck and leaning against your shoulder. "don't you like it, [name]-chaaan?~"

"nope," you said, raking your fingers through his hair and yanking his face away from your neck.

"but why noooot?" dazai pouted childishly.

whenever you make physical contact with me, you make me feel vulnerable—that's why.

"just because," you sighed, pushing his face and entire body away from yours that was leaning against you.

when you scooted away from him and leaned against the window again, dazai couldn't help but feel a twinge inside his chest. a frown deepened on his face as he desperately outstretched his hand, reaching for yours.

"[name]-chan.. i didn't mean to make you upset." dazai grasped your hand, interwining his with yours, "i promise i'll stop teasing you. don't be mad at me, please?"

your gaze was drawn to dazai's hand, which was now intertwined with yours, and you couldn't help but take it back. his hand was warm, almost comforting.

"i'm not upset," you muttered quietly, brushing your fingers against his knuckles, "i'm just thinking of something, and no, it's not about this damn bus, okay?!" you immediately added.

dazai looked at you for a moment as he reflected on your actions, and that's when he realized it—your reluctance to accept his arm earlier, your pushing and scooting away. dazai frowned once more after that.

was dazai too touchy, that he was making you uncomfortable? hmm, that doesn't appear to be the entire case. thinking about it further, it was truly something else just as you said.

"is it because of my ability?" dazai inquired, blinking as he fixed his gaze on you.

you widened your eyes, but quickly softened as you refused to look at dazai. your expression and reaction alone sufficed as an answer.

"i'm sorry," dazai started, but you immediately cut him off, "it's fine, don't worry about it."

"no, [name]-chan, it's not fine. i'm the only one who can get past your limitless abilities. it only makes sense why you don't like me touching you," dazai said, staring at your hand as he squeezed it.

"i guess i'm just not used to being vulnerable and touchable," you sighed as you shook your head, "but then again, at the end of the day i'm not all that invisible despite my ability and six eyes. i think i have become so used to my infinity and prowess that i have forgotten what it's like to be this vulnerable as a human."

dazai silently nodded his head, biting the inside of his lip. for someone who doesn't feel worthy of bearing such skin, hence the bandages, he, like you, doesn't feel human.

you and dazai really were alike, huh?

"but i'm probably just overthinking it," a soft chuckle escaped your lips as a smile crept across your face as you turned to face dazai, "you're right."

dazai's brown eyes slowly lit up, "right about what?"

"that it's not so bad," you replied.

unable to resist it any longer, you pushed your head into the crook of his neck and leaned against his shoulder, to which dazai immediately responded by resting his cheek atop your head, and the two of you continued to intertwine your hands.

despite the fact that dazai was the only one who could break through your infinity and limitless ability, he was warm and comforting, and you were gradually getting used to it. dazai felt so nice that the foreign feeling of being this vulnerable around him was fading.

perhaps dazai was the lesson you needed, which is why your paths crossed. it was for you to remember what it was like to be human, and to learn that even if you have everything, you won't always get what you want—beginning with you riding a public transportation with him.

"right about taking the bus? or being this close to me, [name]-chan?" dazai asked softly in a whisper, his voice slightly flirtatious.

"both," you answered in response as you squeezed dazai's hand and closed your eyes, a small laugh spilling from your lips.

[ author's notes ! guess who decided to update after not being able to in an incredibly long ass while 💀 but ok, so like, i've read from somewhere how gojo satoru is rich and spoiled af given how he's the pride and head of the gojo clan in the canon jjk world. so i incorporated that with gojo! reader in this bsd x reader fic. again, there is no established relationship yet between gojo! reader and dazai, just a hint of blossoming romance hehe because i think it'd be nice ! thank you so much for requesting. i hope you enjoyed this (⑅ •͈ᴗ•͈ ) ]

[siriuslysatorusimping]

Random Question (Another Level Extra)

Summary

“So, no marriage for you, huh?” Gojo asked, tilting his head to the side as he teased her. “No budding romances? No sweet non-sorcerers waiting to sweep you off your feet?”

“Non-sorcerers are definitely out of the question.” Rinko scrunched her nose. “I don’t wanna have to lie to someone until I know they’ll stay, ya know? Not exactly the best foundation for a possible lifelong commitment.” She paused, meeting his eyes again with a smirk. “And none of the sorcerers I know are marriage material, either.”

“Hurtful,” he teased, lifting up and putting his hand over his heart. “I’m offended, baby. You don’t want me to wife you up?”

“Especially not when you say it like that,” she deadpanned.

-

Kiko note: One of my favorite things about writing these two is the serious conversations they have while they fuck. This is set the day after Let's Get Lost and their conversation references Hollow Echoes. This is also posted on AO3

If you haven't already, you can read Another Level on AO3 💕

2013

“Kinda curious ‘bout something.”

Rinko’s eyes narrowed at Gojo, prompting him to grin as he rolled his hips teasingly.

His words made her tense in suspicion because him being curious while he was balls deep was typically not a good sign.

They’d spent most of the day in bed, just like he’d asked of her yesterday while they showered. She couldn’t describe it as lazy because he’d barely allowed her any time to rest since they woke up. Their current position was the most relaxed they’d been all day.

“S’pretty random, actually,” he admitted, his hips keeping their steady pace as he filled her over and over. “That date you skipped, why’d you do it?”

“Huh?” Her eyebrows shot up before dropping, furrowing in confusion. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

The question was very random. But such a Gojo question to ask when he’d spent the entire day ruining her in every way he possibly could.

“Told you it was random,” he said, grasping her leg and wrapping it around his waist so he could thrust deeper. Her back arched in response, a strangled moan ripping from her throat. “Fuck, that’s it.” He sped up briefly before settling back into his relaxed, lazy rhythm. “The date you didn’t go on last year. Y’know, when I-”

Showed up at her apartment drunk and acting like a jealous idiot? That date? She couldn’t even say she was surprised he’d ask now of all times.

Rolling her eyes, she yelped when he slammed into her once, his eyes glinting playfully.

“S’rude to roll your eyes at me when I’m fucking you this good, Rinko-chan,” he chided. Because bringing up the night he showed up at her place drunk and jealous while he was inside her wasn’t rude. Or the very fact that he’d shown up drunk and jealous in the first place when it was supposed to be casual. His grin grew at her indignant squawk, leaning down to capture her lips, biting her tongue gently when she released a breathy moan. “Keep your bratty comment to yourself just this once-”

“Don’t really see how it’s bratty to point out you being a-” she choked off when she felt his cock stab her cervix, “-an asshole.”

Gojo just snickered, moving his lips to her neck, nuzzling the ticklish spot there.

“Come on,” he murmured, sucking a bruise onto her skin. “I’m actually curious.”

“You’re talking about the time you showed up drunk, right?”

He nipped her skin in warning, and she sighed.

“Multiple reasons,” she relented. “Was a bit stressed. I’d had a long week already, and I’d just gotten a text from you telling me to send you my address because you apparently wanted to come spank me like the asshole you-”

“You liked it,” he argued, lifting his head to give her a smug grin and laughing when she clenched instinctively at the memory. “‘Least your pretty pussy did. Squeezed me so good then, still squeezing me now. Oh, fuck.” He groaned low in his throat. “Not the point, though. You’ve had to miss dates for shit, obviously. But I thought you always rescheduled ‘em. Was surprised you didn’t reschedule that one.”

She let her head fall back as she released a heavy sigh mixed with a whine.

“Ever meet someone and- fuck, right there- just know they’re too nice?” she breathed, arching her back when he rolled his hips to graze her gspot teasingly.

Maybe nice wasn’t exactly the word but it was the best she could think of now. She knew he’d understand, though. It was why he didn’t usually see people more than once. Thank fuck he’d decided she was the exception to that rule.

“Not really sure what you mean,” he admitted, sucking on her neck again. “But I think I follow.”

“S’why you have your little ‘no repeats’ rule, yeah?” she pressed. “Because you don’t wanna risk someone getting attached?”

“Obviously. S’also why I only fuck non-sorcerers now, too. Gets messy.” He paused, leaning back to meet her eyes as if he just knew she was making a face. “You are, so far, not messy,” he said, giving her a wolfish grin. “Well, at least not in a bad way.”

She couldn’t contain the eye roll at how stupid he was sometimes.

“Pussy is fuckin incredible, too,” he continued cheekily. “So it’s a win-win for both of us.”

“If only your cock was- wait!” she giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck when he narrowed his eyes at her. Licking up the side of his throat, she nipped his jaw playfully. “A win-win. Can’t deny the guarantee of a really good fuck is nice. Might need to make a copy of your map-”

She squealed when his hands found her sides, fingers digging into her ribs relentlessly.

“Such a goddamn brat,” he growled, lifting her leg to his shoulder and grinding his hips before speeding up. He made sure to tease her gspot with each thrust, his lips latching onto her neck as her cries rose in pitch. “Not a single goddamn thing that could help anyone fuck you as good as me, and you know it. S’why you act like a fucking menace so much.”

“I would never,” she breathed, whining when he moved one of his hands between them to rub tight circles around her clit. “Fuck- don’t- don’t stop-”

“Yeah?” he taunted, digging his teeth into her neck and pulling a strangled moan from her. “My little slut gonna cum for me like a good girl? Hm? Come on, Rinko-chan. Show me you can be a good girl.”

He pinched her clit hard, and a broken scream wrenched free as she came. Whimpers and moans fell uncontrollably as she convulsed, thrashing against him when he sped up.

“Just like that,” he cooed, his tongue soothing where he’d bitten. He moaned quietly in her ear, his hips stuttering briefly. “Such a good girl for me.”

She just whined as she felt him twitching as he spilled inside her, releasing a long, guttural groan before he released her leg and dropped his weight on top of her. His arms wrapped underneath her tightly, his lips tracing random patterns along her shoulder.

“Never answered my question,” he mumbled, and she nodded. “Said somethin’ about people getting attached?”

Catching her breath, she blinked around the sleep trying to pull her under.

“Yeah. Just- when you meet someone and kinda just know they’re looking for the whole thing. Date, fall in love, have kids type thing, ya know?”

He lifted his head curiously, meeting her eyes.

“You don’t want that?”

Pursing her lips to the side, she shrugged as best she could.

“I- maybe someday,” she admitted quietly. “But- this life doesn’t really let that happen. Name one happily married couple you know of?”

The snort he released made her chuckle, and he nodded.

“Can’t,” he said. “Parents weren’t exactly the happiest. They weren’t miserable, but they sure as hell weren’t happy.”

“Probably had something to do with having you as their kid,” she teased lightly. “I imagine it wasn’t easy. There were a lot of hits out on you pretty young, right?”

His scoff was paired with a dramatic eye roll before he leveled her with a bored look.

“Took care of those pretty easy,” he deadpanned. “None of ‘em had the guts to try anything. Parents were just… distant.” He shrugged again. “Guess I can’t compete much with you, though. Your old man’s a real piece of shit.”

She definitely didn’t need that reminder.

“So, no marriage for you, huh?” he asked, tilting his head to the side as he teased her. “No budding romances? No sweet non-sorcerers waiting to sweep you off your feet?”

“Non-sorcerers are definitely out of the question,” she replied instantly, scrunching her nose. “I don’t- I don’t wanna have to lie to someone until I know they’ll stay, ya know? Not exactly the best foundation for a possible lifelong commitment.” She paused, meeting Gojo’s eyes again with a smirk. “And none of the sorcerers I know are marriage material.”

“Hurtful,” he teased, lifting up and putting his hand over his heart. “I’m offended, baby. You don’t want me to wife you up?”

“Especially not when you say it like that,” she deadpanned. “Be honest, you never intend to settle down, either. Too busy, yeah? It’s why you don’t wanna deal with anyone getting attached.”

His teasing grin shrank a bit as he nodded.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Got a lot of shit to take care of. Not like there’s anyone who could keep up with me.”

As expected. She’d assumed as much.

“Ever been in love?”

He snorted, and she snickered at his bored look.

“Have you ever been in love?” he countered, grinning when she snorted just like he had. “You can say you’re in love with me, Rinko-chan.”

“Sorry, Gojo,” she hummed drily. “But you really aren’t the kinda person I want to fall in love with. Emotionally constipated would be an understatement.”

“Again, hurtful,” he chuckled. “But nah. Never been in love. Kinda don't ever wanna be. Fucks people up, yeah? S’what causes some of the nastiest curses. Like the one from your exam.”

As if she could forget. She’d almost fucking drowned. A curse born from the hatred of a scorned wife. A scorned lover.

“My mom used to say she loved Naobito at one point,” Rinko noted, gnawing on her bottom lip. “She loved him when they were together. Dunno what the fuck about that asshole could be lovable, but she meant it. It- it fucked her up pretty good. She- always said she didn’t regret it because it gave her- me. But- not so sure I could do it. Be as strong as she was.”

Almost two years without her and it still felt like yesterday. Her chest ached at the realization.

“You miss her.”

“Well, yeah,” she said, feeling small. “She was- my favorite person. The only one I had for most of my life.”

Gojo nodded, understanding coloring his expression.

“Well, you got me now, Rinko-chan,” he stated firmly. He wrapped his arms underneath her again, holding her tighter than before. It made the weight in her chest lift a bit. “And Nanamin. Got a lot of people here for you. Hell, you can even say you’ve got Fushiguro’s brat now, too. Since you fuckin bribed him with those damn cookies-”

“Not my fault you didn’t think of that before me,” she argued, unable to fight the grin at his pout. “Don’t be jealous, Satoru.”

He just rolled his eyes and dropped his head down, burying his face in her neck.

“Thank you,” she murmured, twisting his hair around her fingers gently. “You- I dunno if you need or want to, but you have me now, too.”

His breath fanned across her neck as he hugged her tighter.

“‘Course I want to, Rinko-chan,” he replied, groaning when he shifted, and they both seemed to remember that he was still inside her. “Mm, fuck. I need a fuckin nap, and then I’m gonna keep you tied to this bed until one of us has to leave.”

He chuckled darkly when she couldn’t contain the quiet moan, licking her neck teasingly.

“Rest up, baby.”

[fumblingmusings]

Lukewarm Coffee and Plum Rice Pudding

Absolutely pure schmop for USUK. Alfred needs a break. Arthur is making old man dessert. They are both tired and more than a little in love. Very chaste romance below, just stretching writing muscles in the present tense. Enjoy!

Arthur’s house is small. It is small, old, and smells of syrup and plums. When Alfred inquires as to why, England gives him a very funny look, as if the other man is as stupid as Arthur’s frequent insults suggest. He simply states that if Alfred cared to look in the kitchen, he would see the vat bubbling away on the hob. 

America ponders how he is to do such a thing, considering he is still standing on England’s porch. 

He says as much, and Arthur scrunches his nostrils. There is dirt, America notes, on the bridge of said nose. Most likely mud from the garden (for where else would the plums have come from?), the result of Arthur rubbing his skin, perpetually sniffing as if he has a cold. Alfred suspects it is something akin to hay fever and it would go away if Arthur bothered to take something as simple as an antihistamine. He wouldn’t, of course, because Arthur refuses to take anyone’s advice, no matter its practicality. 

Alfred remains under the tiny portico.

“Are you going to let me in? It’s cold.”

“It’s fifteen.”

Alfred nods, as if that number means anything to him. (It does, when he thinks about it for longer than a second. He tries often to not do so).

Still, Arthur steps back, muttering something about making Alfred take off his muddy shoes and leave them at the door. England then disappears down the tight hallway, turning left behind the stairs and returning to his kitchen. The sound of a radio station playing, some odd indie music, seems to be coming from the area.

Alfred follows his nose and ears, and sure enough, a rather large pot is bubbling away, making a sticky sound when Arthur goes to stir. Not burnt. Yet. Arthur lowers the volume of his radio, the announcer declaring it to be one of the multiple BBC channels. There were six?! More?

America drops his weekend bag on the wooden chair sticking out from the round table, then plants himself into the second chair. An excessive amount of crocheted placemats and coasters litter the small surface, and he is unable to help himself from picking one up and inspecting. Perfect, as always.

The silence seems to stretch on. With any other time that Alfred would drop by unannounced, he would be talking Arthur’s ear off. As it is, Arthur notes how utterly melancholic the boy appears to be.

Turning off the heat, Arthur moves the pot to the countertop, pouring the simmering fruit into a large glass bowl. It splatters as he does so, and the contact stings his bare wrists.

His loud, emphatic fuck makes Alfred start, look up from the table and across the cluttered room. Arthur is shaking his arm, as if trying to fling the stinging pain out of his limb.

“Careful,” America says unhelpfully.

The replying glare and bull-like snort are somewhat good-humoured, so Alfred manages a smile.

“Why are you here?” Arthur asks, turning to his sink to cool down the splatter. Alfred watches, quiet.

“Wanted to visit,” Alfred replies. He hears Arthur chuff to himself. 

“Wanna coffee?” England asks instead of acknowledging Alfred’s answer.

“Not instant?”

“No. In the French press. I’ll need to microwave it up though.”

America sucks on his tongue, then nods his assent.

“Sure.”

Arthur fills up one of his floral mugs two thirds of the way, then goes to the fridge. He pauses, the door open and his face hidden from view.

“Warm or cold milk?”

“Cold.”

“Weird boy…” but still, Arthur does as bid, pulling out a carton and throwing the mug in the microwave for just over a minute. He returns to his bowl of plums, then inspects Alfred again.

“How long?”

“Huh?”

“How long will you stay?”

“Oh. Until I get found out?”

England’s green eyes spark with glee. “You’re being naughty?”

Alfred’s smile grows, hearing the childish naughtiness that always manages to leak through Arthur’s prim and proper exterior. There was nothing Arthur enjoyed more than a good deception, a practical joke, being a general annoyance. Was it any surprise such traits were also found in Alfred?

When Arthur’s face lit up, when that veneer of bored politeness cracked… Alfred was reminded why people actually tolerated (or worse, loved) Arthur. Alfred would only ever whisper it in the dead of night when he was sure Arthur was not listening. Confessing sincerely and earnestly on how much England had never truly been extracted from America.

More than once, Arthur had in fact, not been asleep, and Alfred had become ashamed to even look the man in the eye for the next three days. 

Unabashed openness was a rarity in Arthur too, both in joy, and indeed in love. It was much more his style to simply open his home, offer a drink, and try to be useful. A land of such beautiful words and poets struggles to speak plainly at times, hiding behind inferences, suggestions and looks that Alfred only ever caught in candid photographs or mirror reflections. 

Truly, they were as bad as each other. And yet they understood.

“I needed a break,” Alfred finally confesses.

Arthur waves him over, not commenting on his reasoning. “I’m making rice pudding for the plums. You can help. Make yourself useful.”

America could have kissed Arthur. Not for the gift of rice pudding; Alfred feels it is slop - unpleasant in texture and lacking in any flavour - but for Arthur’s immediate understanding. The time of a nation was valuable, and often they were used as endless free labour. It could be physical (Ivan’s railway construction came to mind), but for people like Alfred and Arthur, it was bureaucracy. An office intern with no voice in policy and yet expected to enact decisions to carry them through.

Arthur learned long ago how to bite back; his own workaholic nature would take care of the punishing hours, no effort required from Downing Street whatsoever. Alfred, the perpetual people pleaser, had experienced varied results. 

Some years are better than others.

Arthur understands and seems very content - proud even - of his ability to be a bulwark for Alfred. More than once, he has slammed the door shut in the face of some silly-looking man in a suit demanding the world’s superpower to get in the black car.

Arthur knows when not to prod. Some things he will not let drop, badgering and arguing until Alfred cracks. Other times, he will do as he is doing in that moment - hearing the unsaid and knowing exactly what needs to be done.

A distraction, a comfort, an indulgence.

“There’s condensed milk in the pull-out cupboard. Two cans.”

The ping of the microwave leads to Arthur bustling around the tiny kitchen. There is a pile of dishes waiting to be washed in the basin and sticky surfaces of spilt sugar and fruit juice. Arthur hums to himself as he works, matching the quiet radio and its dreamlike rhythms.

Alfred places the cans squarely on the counter, then lays his chin on Arthur’s shoulder, right at the junction of his neck. The warm breath that he exhales visibly causes Arthur to shiver.

Not exactly looking back at America, Arthur raises a hand up to run his fingers through the boy’s golden hair.

“Your coffee’ll get cold,” England gently chides.

Alfred hums, only to wrap his arms around Arthur. England’s cool hands (so perfect for baking those cursed scones) hold on to one of Alfred’s own, the other petting him softly. 

“Big baby,” Arthur murmurs right into Alfred’s ear. “Rest up. You’re home now.”

Once, perhaps not too long ago, Alfred would have bitten back an angry and spiteful retort, but now it was not so. Home was an idea, a feeling, many places and many people. His glamorous and large apartment in New York; his ranch in Texas with his wonderful horses; sitting in Montreal with Mattie watching the Canadiens lose to Tampa Bay for the Stanley Cup final (both of them drunk for differing reasons). 

Holding on to Arthur like a buoy in the man’s tired and cluttered kitchen, a lukewarm coffee on a dirty counter, an excessive amount of boiled fruit cooling in a bowl.

Home.

[starpirateee]

Hi! Could I request some Paul+Ted friendship that's not NOT romance... basically Paul find Ted crying in a bathroom stall and they chat and it's angsty and all that good stuff. Love your writing btw!

BTW Ted has HORENDOUS self-esteem and I will die in that hill.

You can absolutely suggest that! Do you mind if I use this as a continuation to the time loop prompt? I could make that really angsty...

"I wanna go back. I- fuck- I can't take this shit anymore!"

Ted's desperate attempt to keep himself in check had backfired drastically. Paul had known from the moment he confronted him that he looked like he was going to have a breakdown... And that had been proven all but true when he'd returned from his lunch break early and heard sobbing coming from behind Ted's office door.

After a moment of hesitation, and a check to confirm that nobody was following him, he knocked on the office door carefully, not wanting to startle him too badly.

"Christ-" Ted's breath hitched when his train of thought was so violently interrupted, and he tried for a moment to pretend like that hadn't scared him shitless. He took a breath, trying for all it was worth to sound even slightly normal. "Wh-what?" He asked, not noticing the way his voice shook.

Hand rested up against the door, Paul sighed softly. "It's just me, Ted."

"... Paul?"

"Yeah. It's just me. Can I come in?"

If Paul was asking that, he probably knew what kind of state he was in. Hell, he'd probably heard most of it anyway, who knows how long he'd been at it?

The panic had caused a tremor in his hands. In some kind of attempt to stop it, he pushed them both into the front of his hair and let his fingers graze through the strands that were trying to remain part of the gathering.

Don't do it. Don't you fucking do it. You're gonna make yourself sound like a madman, Ted. Don't let him in, don't-

"S-sure. Door's open."

Paul pushed his way through, and immediately saw what this state had done to Ted. He was on the ground, pressed up against his desk and hiding his face in his arms. His hair was uncharacteristically unkempt. Sure, Ted wasn't exactly known for keeping his hair neat, but there was so much of it out of the hair tie he normally used that there may as well not have been a hair tie at all.

He closed the door behind him, even though he knew there wasn't enough people in the office for it to matter.

Upon hearing that, Ted's gaze shot up, eyes wide and glistening, face streaked with tears. He tried to compose himself, but quickly realised that he was too far gone to care. Besides, Paul was probably here because he'd heard what was going on, there was no point in trying to hide it now.

"Ted, uh-" Paul hadn't come in with any kind of plan here. This was just plain concern talking, a need to see if there was anything he could do. Are you okay was the wrong question. He was so far from okay that it was almost astounding.

"What happened?"

As Paul chalked up a list of possibilities in his head, Ted tried to chalk up whether telling him straight out would be the right way to go. It was an insane demand, and there was no way Paul would believe him in any capacity. It's been Thursday for the past two and a half months... Yeah, that sounded stupid. And while there was a part of him that did want to be assured that it'd be fine, that he could move on even if it took time, he wasn't going to find himself admitting-

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Huh? What... What d'you mean, 'what"?"

"You just said-"

"Fuck."

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

He'd said that out loud. He'd said that out loud. So much for not wanting Paul to think he was crazy... He couldn't even trust himself to say anything without his mind getting away from him!

It didn't matter. Paul knew now, and he couldn't exactly take it back...

So, he nodded. Better for him to walk out now and forget he ever asked. Better for him not to think he was losing his mind. Better if he said nothing.

But he stayed. Brow drawn, completely silent... He was waiting for something. An explanation, probably. Ted heaved a sigh and forced himself to think about his every word.

"It's- uh- yeah. It's been Thursday for- for weeks. The same Thursday. Yesterday." He motioned for Paul to take a seat somewhere; the way he was just standing there was starting to get intimidating.

With a shrug, Paul walked over and sat against the other side of the desk, to put a little space between them. He leaned back against it, and glanced over at Ted. "I don't think I understand..."

Ted sighed. That made two of them. "I don't- I don't know, okay? Every time I woke up, it- it was the fucking same. Same day, with the same people and the same fucking conversations… I had this whole- I had everything worked out, and now suddenly-"

"It's Friday..?" Paul offered, with a genuine air of sympathy about him.

Ted nodded. "Couldn't have said it better myself. Yeah. It- it's Friday. I thought I'd be glad it was all over, y'know? That things would stop being the same, but it feels like shit, Paul." He reached up to pull out his now redundant hair tie, and scrubbed his hand over his face to collect the loose tears still threatening to fall.

Paul didn't really know, nor did he think he'd understand, but Ted was messed up over it, and he thought he owed it to him to at least make an effort. "So, what, you woke up in the same day?"

"Every day. No matter what I did."

"How long for?"

"Stopped keeping track a couple weeks in. Today's just... It's a lot, y'know? Thought I'd be fine..."

Paul shifted ever so slightly closer. Ted was absently twisting his hair tie into various different knots, pulling them out, and then then doing the exact same thing all over again. He'd never seen him this anxious over anything before, it was a strange enough sight on just that. Ted was brash, confident, reckless... The man sitting five feet away from him was shaking, lost, and barely able to string a sentence together without stammering.

There was a part of Paul looking to investigate, to get to the bottom of whatever was playing on his mind. The rest of him knew that spirals like this spiked the nerves, left a guy helpless. Ted probably didn't even know how to explain what was going on in his head, let alone what had apparently happened yesterday.

So, he stopped himself asking too many questions.

"I wanna go back. I know what that sounds like... But I don't fucking care anymore, I wanna go back." A sob racked his chest and he ended up gasping for breath. He found the strength to look at Paul, his eyes wide and frightened. "Saturday's coming. I don't know how I'm gonna cope when I don't even have to come to this shit hole! At least today I could pretend things were normal!"

Paul shuffled so he was facing Ted properly. The latter did the same, feeling a strange sense of being understood here. He didn't even know what it was, but Paul seemed to have understood at least some of that sentiment.

"How are you for the movies tomorrow?"

Paul's question threw him right off guard. He blinked, stared at Paul, then blinked again. "Huh?"

"Would.... Would having some kinda plan make this whole thing any better?"

Yes, goddamnit, I need something normal and set, because I've got two days of this shit and I don't wanna lose my mind before I come back on Monday...

"I dunno.... Uh, maybe?" Then he tried to scoff, tried to gain a semblance of himself. "What, you asking me on a date to the movies, Matthews?"

"Not a date. But... Yeah. It doesn't matter what's on, we could just... Watch for the sake of watching, y'know?"

"... I'll be there."

[jamil-s-wifey]

Hi there fellow Jamil stan! I see your requests are open and I would love to ask for some basketball trio OT3 please. It can be as sfw or nsfw as you want. Honestly I'm just starved for content of this trio and I wanna see these idiots attempting to date each other.

UGH, THIS IS ONE OF MY FAVE REQUESTS. LITERALLY I HADN'T EVEN THOUGHT ABOUT THIS SHIP BEFORE, HOW COULD I?! THE POSSIBILITIES ARE ENDLESS, oH MY GOSHH ❤️❤️ What's better than one disfunctional moron with a strong personality? 3 of them. Gosh the comedy, the romance, the interractions. Yes. This isn't very NSFW, but it has its savoury taste here and there. Overall, I'm not sure what to categorise this as, it went to places I didn't expect it to. However, I really hope you like this, because I HAD A BLAST writing it!

P.S. under the cut for some nsfw-ish elements.

So..............

You chose violence, huh?

This was a relationship that came as a surprise to literally everybody, especially Jamil himself.

It all started when they had a regional basketball tournament, which required them to travel outside of NRC grounds. Jamil was much too stressed over it, of course. Not only did he have to spend 2 whole days with two of the biggest menaces at school, but he also had to leave Kalim to his own devices?! How was that even allowed??

Regardless, the trip was organised and they set off. Truthfully, the three of them had already become fairly accustomed to one another, after all - basketball requires a certain level of sportsmanship (which in Floyd's case depended mostly on his ever-changing mood swings.)

On TOP of it all, Crowley had decided to cram all three of them in one room - something about funding again and his OH SO GRAND generosity!

Needless to say, neither of them was very ecstatic at the prospect. .....However, when night rolled around, the mood in the room was just...different. Ace, Floyd and Jamil found themselves sitting cross-legged in a circle on the floor, talking (and pretty casually and calmly too.) Maybe it was the pre-game jitters, or perhaps some deep-rooted understanding which they had reached unknowingly at some point, but the conversations they were having were... exceptionally nice. Deep even, and they kept getting deeper. Each revealed parts of themselves unknown to the outside world. ...but nothing else happened, right? And they're classmates, and friends, and teammates.

ーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーー

It wasn't until after the game, when the *climax* of their story *came* around .

And it was all Floyd's doing. The win, the adrenaline, the excitement - a recipe for a good time.

A touch here and there, a growl, a moan and then suddenly they were tangled in each other, sweaty and spent, barely fitting on a bed way too small for 3 people.

"So uh- that was something." Ace's voice...or whatever was left of it, rang through the silence. "Fuck, I don't think I'll be able to walk tomorrow..." Floyd's smile widened, showing sharp teeth which once terrified Ace and Jamil... But unsurprisingly, not anymore.

"Awe, little Crabbyyy~" he teased him, leaning in to bite him on the shoulder, not enough to break skin, but enough to pull a painful yelp out of the boy. "You're just so delicious, I want to eat you riiiight up~"

"I don't want to ruin the idyllic setting, but I think we have to talk this through." Jamil, of course, chose to be the voice of reason in the situation, "This shouldn't happen again." He tried to be as adamant as possible.

Floyd's brows furrowed. "Don't pretend like you didn't like it, you were moani-"

"Shut up."

"Hnnn, you're blushing.~ And you came sooo much~"

"Yeah, dude. Don't act all high and mighty now. I mean- uh. I... wouldn't mind it... happening again." Ace would have crossed his arms....if he had the strength.

"Oh, we're definitely doing this again."

Jamil could only sigh. As much as he wanted to deny it - he wasn't opposed to the idea either. It was the best he'd felt in a long time, amd he could have something of his own, far away from duty and status and-

And so it was settled.

What was supposed to be a friends with benefits type of deal turned....so much more with time. The more time they spent together, the more they learned about each other's quirks - the deeper their bond grew. It was only natural for things to progress into something something more serious. And oh, was it glorious.

Floyd was... eccentric, primitive, nearly unstable, but he was the most passionate, the most emotional, the most affectionate, the most provocative (in every sense of the world.) And he was oh so deliciously physical in his affection. Ace had a boyish charm to him, a carefree take on the world, much unlike Jamil. He brought to the table excitement, unforgettable memories and enough dumb jokes to write a book...or five. Jamil was. unsurprisingly, the one to actually take care of his two feral boyfriends. He was the calm and collected voice of reason, who would make sure nobody ACTUALLY got hurt in any way. And what did he get in return? Unconditional love, the feeling of being on top of the world, a wonderful way to practice his master kink and immense loyalty. Loyalty he would return tenfold.

Now don't get me wrong, this relationship is nothing short of chaotic. It's already bad enough that Ace is part of it, but Floyd too?!

At times Jamil really questioned his decision making skills, but then the very next moment, Ace would come to tell him of whatever shenanigans he'd got involved in, instantly putting a small, barely noticeable smile on his face. And then Floyd - who would always be there for both of them. Who would attack threaten anybody daring to throw a less than savoury look, or GOD FORBID: comment at Jamil. Who'd make sure nobody would lay a finger on Ace, and in return Ace - who was always there to cure Floyd's endless boredom. And both of them were Jamil's means of escape from his tiring daily life.

And maybe it was a bit unorthodox, but neither of them would change it for the world.

Honestly, I'm tempted to write more - like headcanons for different situations in their daily life together and stuff like that, this was WAY too much fun and somehow turned out far more emotional that I originally expected..

[atlabeth]

turn back the clock - rafe cameron

summary: your boyfriend breaks up with you days before your best friend's wedding. you're dreading having to face it alone, but when some behind-the-scenes tampering by the bride brings you back into contact with your high school crush, more comes to light than you could've ever imagined.

a/n: thank you to ri for helping me decide which current wip to finish and this post i saw on ig for inspiring it in the first place. i love second chance romance so much and the obx3 trailer made me wanna start writing for rafe again so here we are lmao.

this has been in google drive hell since august and i finished the rest of it all in one go at midnight when i was supposed to be doing homework. so i hope you enjoy

wc: 4.2k

warning(s): small bit of angst at the beginning but basically all fluff, like toothrotting. also reader was a college track athlete but nothing else about her is described

(no i will not stop using this gif of him in the blue suit<333)

You didn’t really wanna have to make this call. Instead, you just wanted to stew in your own misery, watch some sappy rom-coms that make you feel even worse about what happened, and maybe go out and buy a couple pints of ice cream. 

But the day wasn’t supposed to be about you. And you owed it to Elizabeth to at least explain why you might be in a vaguely shitty mood at her wedding.

Honestly, though—you should have expected this. 

“He what?” 

“Liz—” you started, but you knew once she got going there was no bringing her down until she was done. 

“He broke up with you?” 

“Yes,” you said, and you clenched your free hand in a fist to keep from choking up. He didn’t deserve any of your time, you knew that, but that didn’t mean you weren’t hurting. It didn’t mean tears didn’t well up every time you thought about him. “He just sprung it on me out of nowhere last night. I thought we were doing pretty well, but,” you let out a watery laugh, “I guess not.” 

“I can’t believe him,” she seethed. “I told you not to trust guys with J names, and Jason is like, the biggest offender! I told you the moment we met him at that frat party he was bad news—” 

“You don’t need to go on a rant!” you interrupted with a laugh. “I already know how much of a jerk he is— well, I might’ve just had my eyes opened to it, but I know. I just wanted to tell you that I’m… going through some stuff, I guess, in case I seem off during all the planning. But that’s all—you have to promise me that none of the focus is gonna be on me, because this is your day.” 

“...Okay,” she said after some hesitation, “but you can still rant to me whenever you want. Just because you’re one of my bridesmaids doesn’t mean all you have to talk about is the wedding.” 

“How can I not talk about the wedding all the time?” you exclaimed. “Lizzie, I’ve been involved in so much of the process with you that it’s basically all I can think about. This is the most excited I’ve been for anything ever.” 

“Didn’t your brother get married last year?” she said. 

“You know what I mean,” you chuckled. “I just can’t believe you’re getting married, and to Nate, too. It feels like it was just yesterday that you were telling me about the cute boy in your trig class, and six years later and you’re marrying him in a week.” 

You could hear the smile in your words. “It really does feel like yesterday, huh? I remember going on and on about how much I liked him after that group project we got stuck together for—y’know, your encouragement was the only reason I ended up asking him out.” 

“Then I’m glad I kept bothering you,” you said with a smile of your own. “You guys are so great together.” 

“I just wish you would’ve taken my—” Liz suddenly stopped talking on the other end, and you frowned a bit. 

“What?” 

“...Nothing,” she said very suspiciously after a pause. “I, uh— I just remembered there’s something I need to do. Wedding related. I’ll talk to you later?” 

“Yeah—” you said, but she had already hung up. You chuckled and shook your head as you set your phone down. 

You didn’t really know what that was about, but you were looking forward to the wedding—it didn’t matter that you were suddenly single. 

You and Liz had been best friends since you were put next to each other in the seating chart in sixth grade science—and even though she went to NC A&T and you were all the way at San Diego State, you talked basically every day for all four years of college. Sometimes you even made the flights to see each other, and it was worth every single dollar. 

It made you feel a lot better, knowing she had your back (and knowing that she had likely already blacklisted Jason from the guestlist made you feel pretty good too). 

What you didn’t know, though, was that what she was doing at that moment would make the wedding night a whole lot more interesting for you. 

And it all had to do with one Rafe Cameron from high school. 

-

The air was thick with a thousand different perfumes and the stiffness of hairspray along with a whole lot of anxiety as a result of the eight bridesmaids who inhabited the room trying to make sure they looked their best before the procession started in T-10 minutes. 

You were, of course, stressed as well. It was like everything that was fine for the months leading up to the wedding had suddenly decided to go wrong just to spite you. You’d forgotten to take a tag off of your dress and it was digging into a very particular spot of your back, your hair was not cooperating—Ariel and India and Natasha might have said that you looked beautiful, but it was just not working with you—and you were about to run out of your favorite mascara. All small things, but they were beginning to add up. 

And to add to your stress, your phone started to go off. When you opened it, you saw it was a text from Lizzie. 

girl I am so sorry to ask you this I know we’re so close to the start 

but Ayana just told me that she left my bouquet on the table in the sideroom of room 139, she forgot to take them out of the vase! 

sisters aren’t even on top of things when they’re your maid of honor apparently 🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃 

you’re the closest to the room and the only other person I can trust rn because Im going slightly wedding crazy, can you please get it??? I will love you more than my future husband and you will have my eternal gratitude 

using my track past against me i see 

you are pushing it babe 

I know 

help me obi-wan kenobi you’re my only hope 

lol 

dw I got this 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️

You are my savior and all your drinks are on me next time we go out 

You sighed and shook your head, slipping your heels off in favor of the flats you came here in. The last thing you needed was to break an ankle before the procession. 

“I’ll be back!” you announced to the rest of the bridesmaids—though you weren’t sure any of them heard you in the havoc—before you ran out of the room. You were thankful this dress had a slit. 

It took a minute for you to get there, makeup and hair still intact, but when you did you didn’t see a vase. You huffed a sigh and got to work going through everything. The actual last thing you needed was for Liz to not have her bouquet as she walked down the aisle. 

“Oh— I’m so sorry, I didn’t even know there was another person in here.” 

You turned around from your crouched spot on the floor at the voice, and you nearly toppled over when you saw who it was. 

“Rafe?” you marveled. Though it was posed as a question, there was no doubt about it. You’d only thought about him basically every day for all of high school. 

He said your name with the same surprise, his eyes widening slightly at the same time as he stared at you for a moment too long. You swore his eyes went up and down, a slight pink tinge on his cheeks, when he blinked and shook his head. A wide smile spread across his lips in its place, and it did the same sort of thing to you that it did in high school. You weren’t immune to a Rafe Cameron grin as a freshman, and apparently you weren’t as a college graduate either. “What are you doing here?” 

“Trying to find Lizzie’s bouquet ten minutes before the wedding,” you said with a slight laugh. “What are you doing here?” 

“Uh, Topper left his pocket square in here, apparently,” he said. “We drove here together, and he’s the best man so he’s scrambling all over the place, and—” Rafe paused and he breathed a laugh, his eyes crinkling at the corners in the same way they did in high school. “You get the idea.” 

“Oh, yeah,” you nodded, and a smile pulled at the corners of your lips. “I had no idea you were gonna be at the wedding. I—” you chuckled and shook your head. “I guess I forgot that you and Nate went to UNC together.” 

“Yeah.” Rafe laughed again, though it was a bit nervous as he ran a hand through his hair, stuffing his other hand in his pocket. “It’s uh— it’s been forever since I’ve seen you, though. What, the last time we actually had a conversation was—” 

“That one party at UNC,” you supplied, and you stood up, leaning against the countertop. “The one that Liz dragged me to when I came to visit her for spring break sophomore year. We saw each other there.” 

“...Yeah,” Rafe repeated, and his smile softened. “Yeah, it was then. I didn’t know you remembered that.” 

“‘Course I did,” you said. “I mean, the last time before that was the huge party you, Kelce, and Topper all threw in the last week of summer. Before we all went our separate ways.” 

“Oh, that was…” he laughed as he bowed his head a bit. “That was something. Uh, it should be a rule pre-college boys should not be allowed to be around that much alcohol without supervision. I’m surprised no one died that night.” 

You grinned as the memory of it all came back. It was hard to believe that it was one of the last times you saw Rafe. That it was the last time you saw Rafe for two whole years, and the next time you got even the slightest glimpse of him was a minute long conversation with your very drunk self before you were dragged out by your one sober friend. 

Seeing Rafe was the only thing you remembered from that night.

“I can’t believe it’s been so long,” you said, your voice a bit softer. “College really did something to us, huh?” 

“Yeah,” he said, and his smile faded the slightest bit. “Being on separate coasts’ll do that to you.” 

Your expression softened, and you were about to say something when your phone buzzed in your hand. Panic jolted through you for just a moment before you read what the texts said. 

just kidding lol. It turns out that Alicia got the flowers when she was picking up the drinks from there for the reception

crisis averted!! 

I’ll still cover your drinks though since I prob gave you a mini heart attack and Im very sorry about that 

“Huh,” you said, and you glanced back up at Rafe. “Looks like I was sent on a mission for flowers that weren’t even here.” 

“Elizabeth’s probably all over the place,” he said. “I mean, I’ve been kinda stressed out and I’m not even part of the wedding party. Bridal nerves have gotta be a lot worse.” But then Rafe paused and took his phone out of his pocket, and his brow creased. 

“What’s got you lookin’ like that?” you asked. 

“Huh,” he said. “Topper actually just had his pocket square in his… other pocket. So I guess I was here for nothing then, too.��� 

A laugh bubbled out at that. “We’ve got some very organized friends today, huh?” 

“Seems so,” he agreed with a smile. “But I’m glad he misplaced it.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah,” Rafe nodded, and he shrugged. “I got to see you.” 

You felt the heat rush to your cheeks at an astronomical rate, and you had never been more thankful for your phone to buzz. 

But seriously you gotta finish getting ready we have like five minutes left before the organ starts playing 

liz if this was not your day i would be so mad at you

please. you can never be mad at me 

“I gotta go before I single handedly ruin this whole procession,” you joked, and you went past the entrance and Rafe. But just as you got a few steps away, you turned around and smiled. “I’m also glad that Liz sent me here.” 

Rafe chuckled, smiling inwardly as you hurried away. You didn’t know it, but his eyes didn’t leave you for a second. 

-

The wedding ceremony went fabulously. 

You got back in time and finished getting ready—for some reason, you felt a lot more confident in your appearance—and walked down the aisle arm in arm with a very lovely groomsman before taking your place at the front of the bridesmaid line. 

You cried. A lot. 

When you saw Liz walking down the aisle, when you looked up at Nate and saw the way he gazed at her with all the stars in his eyes, when her father gave her away, when they said their vows, when they kissed, when they walked off—you were a mess basically the entire time. Thank god for waterproof mascara. 

And then when you sat with the bridesmaids for the Liz and Nate's first dance and the parent dances, you cried again. And when Ayana gave her Maid of Honor speech and Topper gave his Best Man speech—you were like a waterfall. A complete mess, but a very happy one at that. 

But you managed to stop by the bathroom and fix yourself up in record time before you all went off to your normal seating charts, and god, you had never been more glad to have done so when you walked in and saw who was at your table. 

Liz either knew everything or nothing, because this... this was really something. 

“So we meet again,” Rafe said, another easy smile appearing as he turned to look at you. “Looks like this wedding is trying to make up for all the years we missed.” 

You chuckled and took your seat next to him. “Guess so. It’s not an easy feat, though.” 

“Six years was a long time,” he said. 

“Didn’t really help that my parents sold our house in the OBX after I graduated,” you said dryly. “I missed all those Rafe Cameron summers during college.” 

“‘Rafe Cameron summer’?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. “Didn’t realize there was a word for it.” 

“What can I say?” you shrugged. “I graduated with an English minor. It allows me to make up phrases whenever I want.” 

“Ah,” he said, nodding sagely. “I guess my… finance concentration means I control the stock market?” 

You laughed and shook your head. “You’re ridiculous. It obviously means you’re the head of the treasury. Keep up, Rafe.” 

“My bad.” He held up his hands with mock austerity. “Our time apart is the reason for such a ridiculous mistake.” 

You smiled, but it sobered a bit and you bit your lip. “On a serious note,” you said, “I’m… I’m really sorry.” 

Rafe frowned. “For what?” 

“For that time apart,” you said. “I came back to North Carolina more than a few times to visit Liz and some other friends, but I never came to see you. We were— we were good friends, Rafe, and I shouldn’t have just disappeared on you like that all because I was at a different college.” 

Somehow, his brow furrowed even deeper. “What? You can’t possibly be blaming yourself for this—people grow apart in distance. That… that just happened to us. I mean, you were in California and I was in Chapel Hill. That’s crazy distance.” 

“I still came back, though,” you said. “Just… never for you.” 

“...I didn’t expect you to,” Rafe said, looking right in your eyes. “No matter how much…” 

“What?” you asked after he trailed off. 

Rafe sighed, then shook his head, trying to clear his mind before he looked back at you. “Do you wanna dance?” 

“What?” you repeated, mostly because you couldn’t believe it. 

“Dance with me.” He stood up and offered a hand, passing a glance at the dance floor. All of the official dances had been done already so it was open to anybody, including you and your high school crush. 

“Okay,” you said with an almost breathless laugh, and you really felt like your freshman self again the way butterflies fluttered in your chest as you took his hand and walked over to an open spot. 

You and Rafe fell into an easy rhythm, like you’d been doing this all your lives, and it didn’t take too long for your conversation to follow. 

“So what did you get up to in all those years at SD State?” he asked. “All I really know about your college career is what I’ve gotten from Instagram and your parents’ Facebooks.” 

You laughed a bit. “Regular college stuff, I guess. I did track all four years and I won some awards, which was pretty cool. Went to a lot of parties, got drunk a lot, swore off drinking a lot, studied until I thought my eyes were going to fall out, then graduated with a chemistry degree. I’ve been working as a technician in a lab for the company I interned with for the past two years.” 

Rafe whistled. “‘Regular college stuff’, she says, as she describes an insane balancing act between student athlete life, partying, and schoolwork, and still being able to graduate with a STEM degree.” 

“You’re such a flatterer,” you admonished, but there was no real bite in your words. “That’s one thing that’s never changed.” 

“It’s easy to flatter a woman like you,” he said. “I mean, you’re out there changing the world. I feel like I’m not even worthy to stand in your presence.” 

You chuckled as Rafe spun you, and as your hands joined once again you offered a coy smile. 

“You know,” you said, feeling a surge of confidence with his words, “I had the biggest crush on you in high school.” 

Rafe’s eyes widened slightly, but he covered it up with a well placed smile of his own. “Really?” he marveled, and he said your first and last name, “you had a crush on me?” 

“Yep,” you nodded. “And she had it bad. If freshman year me could see this, she would be losing her mind.” 

Rafe laughed, and it spurned butterflies in your chest yet again—they were the same kind you’d felt whenever you talked to him back then, trying to catch whatever moments you could between your busy schedule and his own responsibilities. You were too scared to admit your feelings, but you enjoyed spending time with him nonetheless. 

If there was one thing this was proving, though, it was that your feelings definitely weren’t as settled as you thought. 

“Well, you know,” he said thoughtfully, echoing your previous words as he brought you back to the present, “I had a pretty big crush on you in high school too.” 

That completely threw you off your rhythm. So much so that you stumbled, totally missing your next steps—if it weren’t for Rafe catching you, you would’ve face planted. 

“Are you good?” Rafe asked, concerned. 

“You had a crush on me?” you asked instead. 

He laughed again and ran a hand through his hair before you fell back into your rhythm together—he had let it grow out some, you realized, and it looked infinitely better all ruffled and mussed up than styled. 

“Yeah,” he said. His smile wasn’t as confident as it always was, a boyish charm mingling with unusual shyness. “It, uh— it kinda snuck up on me. I didn’t really know how big of a crush it was until I was at your signing ceremony. Like, right after you signed the contract was when I realized I had it bad.” 

“My signing ceremony?” you marveled, and you shook your head in disbelief. “You really have great timing, Rafe. Couldn’t have realized a couple years earlier when we were still in the same place?” 

Rafe laughed softly. “Yeah. I really do. But I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to make it harder for you. I mean, I was staying in the OBX for Chapel Hill, and you were taking the opportunity of a lifetime to run track in San Diego. I wasn’t gonna take your mind off of that because some hometown guy had a crush on you.”

“Some hometown guy,” you repeated, and it was your turn to laugh. “You thought that little of yourself?” 

“It’s true,” he shrugged. “I was just a friend that fell for you. I mean,” he gave you a crooked smile, “not that it was hard to fall for you. Pretty sure I was one of ten guys who wanted to ask you to prom senior year.” 

“Okay, that is not true at all,” you said, but you were stumbling over yourself just as quickly. He wanted to ask you to prom senior year? When the one thing that you thought about whenever you looked at him that spring was dancing with him at prom? “Grant Millwood was the only one that asked me.”

Rafe nodded with a laugh. “That was because he threatened everyone that he knew had a crush on you to make sure he would get to go with you.”

“And then he ditched me halfway through the night because he got too drunk to function off the alcohol he smuggled in himself,” you said dryly. “Yeah, he was a great date.”

“High school was the best,” Rafe said with mock austerity, “wasn’t it?”

“Oh, yeah,” you nodded. “I miss the kook academy every single day.”

“I still can’t believe you wanted to ask me to prom senior year,” you said, shaking your head. “Rafe, how did I not even know? Why didn’t you do it?” 

“And let you miss your chance with Grant Millwood?” Rafe over exaggerated his scoff. “Please.” 

A laugh spilled out as a smile shone through. “You would’ve saved high school me a lot of angst if you told her you had a crush on her, y’know. Then I wouldn’t have had to spend four years pining in high school.” And four more in college, and two more postgrad. 

(God, you wish he had told you sooner. You would’ve blown all of your money on tickets to North Carolina if you had even the slightest inkling your eternal feelings weren’t eternally hopeless.) 

“Goes both ways,” he said, tacking on your last name. “Why didn’t you tell me how bad you had it?” 

“Because I thought that there was no chance in Hell that Rafe Cameron would ever share my feelings?” you said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Come on, Rafe—you know who you are, who you were. You say a couple guys wanted to ask me to prom—every girl wanted to date you. I didn’t stand a chance.” 

“And yet you did,” Rafe said with a slight chuckle. He shook his head. “Y’know, if I could turn back the clock, I would’ve done so many things differently.” Rafe smiled boyishly. “I would’ve mustered the nerve to ask you to prom before Grant even got the chance. And I definitely would’ve asked you out instead of liking you in private.” 

You smiled and shrugged. He liked you then when you thought there was no chance—why not now, when you also thought there was no chance? 

“Who says you have to turn back the clock?” 

Rafe’s own grin grew immediately, and he pulled you off to the side of the dance floor. He held your hands in his own, the cool metal of his signet ring at odds with the rough calluses on his palms brushing against your skin. 

He said your name with such earnesty you felt like you could melt, and when you gazed into his eyes, you nearly did. “I think you are the most amazing woman I’ve ever met in every single way. I can’t believe that it took me meeting you by chance at a wedding for me to do this, but I’d like to fix a mistake I made five years ago by never doing this. Can I take you on a date?” 

“Rafe Cameron,” you said, and it was a physical effort to contain the joy nearly bursting out of you, “I would love that more than anything.” 

He grinned. “Great.” 

And then he cupped your face in his hands and pulled you in for the best kiss of your life, one that you immediately fell into with all the vigor of six years spent longing. 

When he pulled away, leaving you completely breathless with widened eyes and bruised lips, his sultry whisper nearly took you out. 

“I’ve been wanting to do that for years.” 

You only had eyes for Rafe as you pulled him back into a heated kiss, pulling him by the cuffs of his baby blue suit. The only thing that got you away from him was the need for air.

"Me too," you murmured.

(And in the background, you were far too dazed to hear Liz’s victorious cheer.)

-

perm tags: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin @maruchan77 @simonsbluee @kwyloz @masteroperator @louderfortheback 

obx tags: @milkiane @lilgoddesshines @sexytholland

rafe tags: @lurkymurker

[iameliseposts]

Azul and Jamil x reader separately or poly if you’re ok with that- uhm romance I guess? Whether we r together or not is up to you. Can you write how they try to fluster you? Hwkejeoej pls

Fluster Me, Fluster You - Azul x MC x Jamil

Thank you for requesting! Out of all dorms, I find Octavinelle to hardest to characterize, but I think I did a good job! I hope you enjoy!

The door chimed when you stepped into Mostro Lounge. You came at the request of your boyfriends; Azul and Jamil. Many people would be terrified of that duo, but you knew better. Sure, they weren’t the nicest people in the world, but they put their pride aside and confessed that they loved you. It was sincere and you couldn’t say you didn’t feel the same. The lounge was packed as normal, like sardines in a can… You suppose that isn’t so far from the truth. And at once you were met with a sardine eel.

“MC, you took your sweet time.” Floyd came up to you the second you were about to take a seat. Oh no, he seemed a little pissed. “You know, if you hadn’t come this instant,” his voice lowered, “I would have had to come find you.”

You inwardly gulped and you kept the strong Perfect stare, “Of course I was gonna come. I told Azul I would.”

Floyd grabbed your hand and let you to one of the back VIP tables. Huh, when did Azul make VIP tables? At least the chairs were nicer. “But Shrimpyyy, he wouldn’t shut up about it. Something about everything having to be perfect.” He whined, mocking Azul’s voice when saying ‘perfect’. You couldn’t help but chuckle. Azul always puts in a lot of effort for you. Planning the perfect dates. Remembering all your favourite dishes, movies, clothes. You name it, Azul knows your liking.

Floyd dramatically sighed, “Now wait here. Azul will be here soon. Probably. Anyways, I’m leaving. I really don’t want to be here when Azul pretends he knows how to date you and Jamil. You might wanna pucker up because we both know Azul doesn’t know how to.”

And he just ups and leaves. You thought about chasing after him to ask more questions, but you didn’t want to die today. Also, something was distracting you. Or rather someone. Long brown hair. Check. Red sweater. Check. Smile that makes your heart pound. Check. Jamil was waiting in a corner of the lounge like he had been dragged here. He spotted you after a second and came over to your table.

“So Azul also called you over,” Jamil grumbled. You nodded while gesturing to him to sit on the chair beside you. He gladly took the seat and leaned towards you, surprisingly close.

“Um Jamil, what are you-“ You feel his breath on yours, “doing?” He held your chin in between his thumb and index finger. “What do you think I’m doing? No one can see us back here anyways.”

You looked away from him, his gaze too intense to stare directly at. Jamil was like the sun. You couldn’t help, but get caught in his warm light. He scooted his chair, so it was pushed up against yours, both of your thighs touching. Such a tease he could be. “You know,” Jamil continued, “Azul is taking such a long time for a surprise. We should use this time, don’t you think so?”

He stroked his index finger under your chin and you squirmed from the sensation. “Aww, how cute your face is. Especially when you're this red.” “Don’t tease me. Not when your face is prettier when you blush!” You retort.

“Ahem. Am I interrupting a date that I arranged?” You jumped slightly into Jamil as Azul’s face appears on your other side. How did he sneak up behind you? “You’re the one who invited us and then proceeded to disappear.” Jamil deadpans, still keeping his hand on your chin. “I was preparing the dishes you both like best, but I see you getting a headstart on our date. You wound me Jamil.” Azul places a hand on his chest with a mock sob.

Jamil shakes his head, “Good, I’m glad I did.” You felt another hand on the nape of your neck, “What are you doing Azul?” Azul smirked behind you as he buried his face into your shoulder. …It lightly tickled your shoulder like Jamil’s hand.

“What are both of you doing?” You asked. Azul smiled. You couldn’t see it, but you could feel his uplifting lips. And you didn’t need to see Jamil’s face to know it was mirroring Azul’s.

This was going to be a long day.