#it would only be able to lie down but now that i have a sitting one it would be fun to also have the other

[xxshadowbabexx]

West Coast: The Train Ride

(Check series warnings on series masterlist)

You had left later than you had meant to, but you were lucky enough to still arrive on time to board the train. You weaved your way through each car, looking for any available seat. This is why you wanted to be early. You were almost to the last car when you spotted the first available seat next to a muscular, bear-like man. He didn’t look friendly necessarily, but a seat was still a seat and so you sat down, settling your luggage at your feet. He didn’t acknowledge you as you made yourself comfortable, and so you turned to introduce yourself. You were going to be on this train for hours, after all Being friendly might help the time go by. 

You extended an arm out as you told him your name, and he raised his brow, columbian eyes piercing through yours. After a moment, he finally took your hand, you could feel the callouses that decorated his skin, scarred tissue that would never heal. Nonetheless his touch was nice, warm. 

“Name’s John Price, doll,” he smiled sweetly. He had a wild, rugged look to him that you couldn’t seem to convince yourself to look away from, and found yourself getting lost in his colombian blue eyes. They were beautiful enough to swim in, and you found yourself leaning in, as if preparing yourself to dive and explore what lays beneath the crystal waters. 

You hadn’t realized you were still holding his hand until you heard him chuckle. You blushed out an apology, letting go of his hand and folding yours on your lap. 

“‘S alright,” he responded and your face flushed. What the hell allowed this man to be so attractive? 

Then he smirked at you, “Don’t know, doll, guess it’s just genetics,”

Could this get any more embarrassing? Probably not. Was this man going to be the death of you? Probably. 

You had a four hour trip to find out. 

The next twenty minutes went by in silence, him reading a book you couldn’t see the title of due to his hand placement, and you watching the scenery blur by through the window. 

You watched the green of the trees mix with the mundane browns and grays of the manmade buildings. Not necessarily a pretty picture, but a picture nonetheless. 

Every now and then you swear you could feel Mr. Price’s eyes on you, but when you turned to face him he never was looking at you. But what did it matter? It’s not like you wanted this handsome stranger to pay you any mind. 

You yawned, stretching your arms above your head and arching your back before settling again in your seat. 

“Tired, darlin’?” he asked, and you turned to face him. 

“A little,” you admitted sheepishly, smiling at him, but not looking in his eyes. You didn’t want to lose yourself in them again, and so instead you focused on his lips. On the thinner side, but they looked soft, kiss-able. 

“You can lie down on me if you want, I don’t mind,” he spoke, voice gravely. 

You blushed, “Oh it’s- I- are you sure? I don’t want to be a bother, Mr. Price,” you stuttered out, incredibly flustered. 

“It’s no bother t’ me, love. But you don’t need if you’re not comfortable. And please, call me John,”

You bit your lip, contemplating the offer. A rest would be nice, so would cozying up to him. However, you didn’t want to impose. But he did offer, so he mustn’t mind, right? 

Besides that, you’ve only just met him, so how can you be sure if he’s trustworthy? For all you know he could have ill intentions. 

You must be more tired than you initially thought, and it must be clouding your judgment because you found yourself laying your head on his shoulder, muttering your stop and asking him to wake you then before you drifted to sleep. 

•••

You awoke to a baritone voice in your ear, “Mornin’ sunshine, this is our stop,” he says as you sit up, rubbing the sleep off of your eyes. 

“Our stop?” you question and he nods. 

“Mhmm, I get off here too, darlin’,” he smiles at you, extending his arm out to help you up. 

You let him walk you out the train, turning to him once you exit. 

“See you around?” you ask bashfully, a undertone of hopefulness that you pray he doesn’t catch. 

He smiles at you “if you’re lucky, doll,”

And then he was gone, disappearing into the crowd. You stared at the spot where he had stood for several moments before gathering yourself bearings. 

Your best friend, Shelby, should be here to pick you up and take you to your apartment. Better to not keep her waiting. 

You got into Shelby’s dusty blue Chevrolet, buckling yourself in as she started driving. 

“So how was your trip?” she asked, voice bubbly as ever. 

“Oh, it wasn’t much of a trip. I was just visiting my parents for the weekend, you know this,”

Shelby tutted, “I know, I know. But did anything exciting happen? Fun?”

You pondered that for a second. Was meeting Mr. Price- John either of those things? It wasn’t necessarily fun, and it wasn’t all that exciting in the moment. But he sure did leave your belly full of butterflies and critters of the like after. 

You turned back to Shelby, “No, can’t say so,” you shrugged. Shelby knew everyone in this part of town, if John was a regular she would surely know him. 

Which is why you didn’t tell her. You’ve been wowed by the idea of too many men and left disappointed by the real thing each time. 

Maybe John would be better off kept in your head. 

taglist

@frogtowne @glossysoap

© xxshadowbabexx 2024. please do not steal, copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my works without my permission. do not steal any elements of my theme without permission.

[fiskael]

Made my very own tiny dungeon meshi dragon plush, that’s based on the version that only appears in the very last chapter for five pages and then is never seen again. I think it turned out pretty well.

I used this pattern to make it with some minor tweaks to the body, tails and legs and then just made some tiny cones for the horns at the end. If anyone would be intersted I might post the alterations and where to apply them but go check out the original pattern! I stuffed it both with acylic stuffing but also some plastic pellets for a bit of extra weight. The eyes are done with french knots.

Going to be adding manga spoilers below the read more with pictures of what I tried to get it to look like.

[fangswbenefits]

Suit Up

Summary: Miguel craves to mark you as his, but he’ll have to start slow… so he offers to build you a custom suit. For now.

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader

18+. Miguel POV. Obsessed Miguel. Innocent and inexperienced reader. Pining. Sexual tension and frustration. Masturbation. Breeding kink.

* ˚ ✦ Part 1 (you don’t have to read it to enjoy this one)

Miguel had decided he was going to build you a suit.

Not just a regular one, but an extension of his own.

He craved to have you for himself, and to have others know that. But he’d have to play his cards right. This level of obsession could easily scare someone off at first.

Especially you.

His sweet, sweet girl.

So he settled for this: building you a custom digital suit to match his.

Slowly, but surely you’d start to connect yourself to him more often.

Or so he hoped.

He found you in his lab early in the morning, sitting by the desk while taking your sweet time with a slice of watermelon.

“Good morning.”

As expected, you jolted in your seat, turning to face him.

A few droplets of juice dribbled down from your lips and chin, and eventually landing on your shirt.

You offered him a messy grin, bits of watermelon all over your teeth, but the absolute innocence of that action tore straight down to his cock.

“Oh! Miguel, hi! Sorry—” your voice came out slightly muffled, as you placed the half moon slice on a plate. “This watermelon is so sweet! Want a taste?”

His brow furrowed and he halted right in front of you. “There’s…” his voice trailed off, eyes fixed on your chin.

You immediately picked up on the implication and wiped the sugary liquid from your skin with a napkin, bringing a few fingers to your lips as well.

Miguel cursed inwardly and wondered if you were truly unaware of how suggestive all of this looked.

He slapped that thought away. No. You were too innocent for that. Your words and actions held no second meaning.

You were genuinely so fucking clueless that it only served to fuel his obsession with you.

His cock gave him a warning twitch.

He was all too familiar with those by now.

Would you be this messy while sucking him off? Would you not be able to keep it all in and eventually swallow?

He’d be fine with you not swallowing it all at first. After all, he did cum a lot. It would probably be overwhelming for someone as innocent and inexperienced as you.

“Miguel?”

Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts at once. “Yes?”

“I’m sorry for making a mess,” you said, hurriedly cleaning the desk.

There was no doubt you’d be the death of him.

Apologising for making a mess…

“Don’t worry about that,” he managed to say flatly. “I’m sure it tasted really good.”

You then smiled once more and let out a cock-twitching groan. “Oh, yes! But… why did you want me in here my casuals today?”

Right.

He moved to tap the hovering screens in front of him. “I was thinking you suit might need an upgrade.”

“What? But I built this one myself… what’s wrong with it?” you whined softly, sticking your bottom lip out.

His cock twitched again.

“I know, I know,” he reassured you with extreme ease. “But I’ve been working on a prototype of my digital suit and would like for you to test it out.”

A blatant lie.

He had just decided this the night before, after that post nut clarity had hit him hard.

How else would he mark you without you even realising?

You blinked a few times, having to tilt your head up to stare at him, and it was enough to flare his imagination.

“Really?” the excitement in your voice was palpable and he felt a sudden rush of satisfaction. “That… that would be an honour, Miguel!”

His fingers tapped through multiple files. “You’ve been helping me out a lot in the lab lately. It’s only fair that I show my appreciation.”

Your gaze wavered momentarily, broken by his genuine praise, and Miguel nearlt bit his lip from this sight alone.

“I do it willingly, Miguel. I love learning new things from you,” your eyes were back on his, and you were bearing a warm smile. “You’re a great teacher!”

He tried hard to tear his gaze away from your lips, and offered a mere nod.

You deserved more than a nod.

And your eagerness to learn from him made him feel swollen with pride. An ego booster.

It was quite addicting.

He’d teach you so much more if you’d let him. He’d teach you how to embrace your pleasure and use it for him only. Oh, how he’d enjoy teaching you how to suck his cock, or how to use your words to turn him on.

Fuck.

He would teach you all he knew.

You’d have all of him.

But he wanted you to want him the way he wanted you. No. He needed you to need him. To crave and yearn and feel the unfair ropes of despair tighten around you.

“I’ll just need your measurements,” he said, fetching a couple of measuring bands from a top shelf. “These will measure every tiny detail, so the fit is as suitable as possible.”

You nodded eagerly, lips slightly parted. He moved to grab each wrist, closing the metallic band around each wrist.

“Feet up,” he asked, hoping his voice wouldn’t betray his true feelings.

You lifted one leg after the other, and he carefully clasped them around your ankles, the feel of your warm skin and proximity nearly having him bite his own lip.

“Wait, do I have be naked?”

The question caught him completely off guard and he straightened up at once. “What?”

Miguel felt more blood rushing downwards and was grateful his own suit was able to keep most of his strained erection from sight.

You broke into a nervous laugh. “Oh — I mean… you’re naked under your suit, right?”

He nodded. “Your suit becomes an extension of yourself and it should feel like a second layer of skin,” he added, extending one arm out, and allowed you to see the digital layer of fabric quickly retracting from the tips of his fingers all the way down his naked torso.

The reaction was immediate.

Your eyes landed on him for only a split second, before looking away.

For the second time that day, Miguel’s ego soared to incredibly dangerous heights.

You looked so innocent and sheepish, not daring to gaze at his incredible physique once again.

He wouldn’t hold that against you, though. You’d have plenty of time to gawk at his body once he managed to break into your mind, and make you his.

“It feels more comfortable this way,” he added reassuringly, as his suit promptly covered his exposed skin once again.

You turned to look at him again. “Oh! So I don’t actually have to be naked,” you giggled in relief.

“No,” Not for this, he wanted to add.

The height difference was starting to take a toll on his ability to focus. Having you sitting on that chair, perfectly levelled to engange in a more suggestive scenario, was enough to feel the blood boil in his veins.

He needed more.

He needed to touch you.

“Let’s boot the measuring analysis program,” Miguel took your hand in his and helped you on your feet. “I need you to stand still.”

He needed so much more than that from you, but he’d have to settle for silent agony for now.

You were visibly excited, barely able to contain yourself as a smile settled on your face, and he felt the sudden urge to praise you for being so eager and such a tease.

He tapped a few commands on his watch, and came to stand behind you, careful not to stand too close, or you’d notice his hard cock.

“Do you trust me?”

You shouldn’t…

You turned your head to the side to look into his crimson eyes, confusion twisting your face. “Of course I do, Miguel.”

… because he wouldn’t.

He rolled his fingers along the hem of your shirt, slowly rolling it upwards. His heart went into overdrive instantly and he could feel the first droplets of precum dripping down his cock.

You flinched once his knuckles brushed against your skin.

“Are you okay?” he asked, halting at once.

You nodded and giggled lighty. “That tickles.”

His sweet girl…

How was he supposed to endure burying himself inside you inch by inch when he couldn’t barely keep his composure now?

Once the shirt was resting under your breasts, he moved one hand to grip it gently from behind, effectively tightening the fabric flat over you. From where he stood, he could see your bra’s outline and how your breasts heaved with each breath you took.

This was driving him mad.

Your cleavage was so inviting and he had to take a step back, ensuring his erection wouldn’t accidentally brush against your ass.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to take this off?” you asked.

You were so fucking sweet and innocent, and he wanted nothing more than to rip all of your clothes apart.

“Just let the program scan your body,” he said, voice strained and breath coming out in shallow pants. “Can you do that for me?”

“Yes,” you immediately replied.

Such a good girl for him… his sweet girl…

He would want to ask that same question the day he got to teach you how to suck his cock.

You’d struggle at first.

But he’d be patient.

He’d probably need to come up with a serum to inject himself with to keep from exploding right away, and he couldn’t have that.

You would need proper guidance, wouldn’t you? How he’d love to have you on your knees, mouth dropped open and receptive.

His other hand was now pressed flat against your tummy and he nearly bucked his hips in response.

Careful, Miguel, he scolded himself.

Was this too much?

In reality, he didn’t need to be doing any of this for measurements, but he couldn’t help himself.

He needed you closer.

He needed to feel you shudder against his touch.

He needed you to need him.

You gasped softly once he started to moved his hand down ever so slightly, fingers nearly touching the waisgband of your pants.

“Ticklish?” he asked in a low voice.

You hummed, bucking your hips into him with a faint giggle, and he felt his cock into contact with your ass.

Oh, fuck.

He had to let go of you right away, flinching back.

You turned to eye him, worry plastered all of your face. “Did I hurt you?”

“No!” he said right away, more precum droplets spilling out. “I think the analysis is complete,” he cleared his throat and turned his back to her, looking down to his bulge.

He wish he could set his cock free.

No.

He wish you would offer to set his cock free.

He wanted you to know and see how much his body craved yours.

“Miguel, are you okay?” you asked tenderly, moving to stand by his side, brushing his tense bicep. “We can finish this some other time.”

Was it really possible for someone to be this clueless? Was your inexperience that blinding? Hadn’t you felt his erection?

Against his will, he nodded.

He needed you gone right away.

He had to get off urgently.

“You’re overworking yourself again…”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

How he’d love to make you his and have you take care of him.

Your hand squeezed his muscles gently. “Is there anything I can do?”

Please, touch me… “No. I’ll just finish the suit and have you test it out soon.”

Your hand dropped.

Maybe if he asked you to let him fuck your hand, you’d let him. Maybe.

He’d settle for you watching him jerk off to you, at this point.

“Can I pick the colours?” you then beamed, glancing up at the orange screens. “Can I? Please?”

He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Sure. I’ll be right back.”

“Okay!” you chirped happily, swiping across the customisation menu on the screen.

Miguel paced quickly into a storage room to his left, groaning into the back of his hand.

In no time, he had the front part of his lower half of his suit vanish, cock springing free, fully coated with precum.

He let out a strained and breathy sigh of absolute relief.

“Ay, Miguel…” he muttered to himself, realising just how badly this obsession had gotten.

His cock twitched, sending strand of precum to dangle from the tip.

From this angle, he could see your back, shirt still nicely tucked under your breasts, revealing so much of your skin to him.

That would do.

For now.

Wrapping his fingers around his cock, he set a slow pace at first, testing out his limit.

Dangerously close.

It was unfair that you were so close, yet so far. You were completely unaware of your effect on him.

Faint anger took over him.

You should be the one to bring him relief.

This was all on you… his sweet, innocent, inexperienced girl.

The pace quickened and he felt his fangs extending in anticipation.

You were bending over the desk, lifting your ass just enough for his mind to have imagining himself ramming into your from the back.

You’d love that position. Maybe not at first, but he’d teach you to enjoy thoroughly.

Being rawed and bred. You’d be a loving mother, wouldn’t you? You’d let him breed you over and over again, because you were just nice like that.

So eager to please.

He wished you’d bend over a little more, so he could fully immerse himself in his lust.

Feeling one fang dig into his lower lip, Miguel wondered how long it would take to draw blood, considering how hard it was for him to suppress his groans.

He couldn’t tear his eyes from you and his desire nearly pained him, because his hand would never be as tight as you, and it would never feel like you.

But he had to get rid of this now.

He had to complete your suit and mark you as his.

Everyone in Nueva York and across other universes would know you were his.

They would know not to cross you, for his wrath would be unmatched.

The sweet tingles of an orgasm soon engulfed him whole, and he threw his head back and fluttered his eyes shut, relying on his mind to keep your alive as he fucked himself for you.

Just you.

His sweet girl.

Just his.

He squeezed the first spurts of warm cum with his fingers, allowing himself go roll his hips in a broken rhythm.

The metallic taste of blood pooled in his tongue and he knew his fang has dug too deep, but he didn’t care.

He would break himself for you.

And you would, too.

You just didn’t know it yet.

Part 3

Masterlist

[actiniumwrites]

𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇

synopsis: wriothesley finds out you have a crush on someone and somehow manages to guess it’s on literally everyone but himself

characters: wriothesley x gn!reader

wc: 1.4k

warnings: fluff, a tiny pinch of angst and insecurity, my poor attempt at humor, slight miscommunication, friends to lovers, coworkers to lovers, swearing, first time writing for wriothesley so he might be ooc

notes: i almost made this angst to fluff but then decided i need to stop adding angst into literally everything i write (even though there’s like a tiny pinch of angst in here too 🙄). anyway, wriothesley is a lot harder to write than i thought he would be so i apologize if he seems ooc here

“Heard you gotta crush on someone,” Wriothesley teases as he walks into his office where you sit on one of his couches. You don’t even hear him walk in, too engaged in the book you were reading to pass time until you had to go through hundreds of inmate records to find something Neuvillette had requested.

His declaration is so sudden it almost makes you spit out the tea you had stolen from him.

Your eyes go wide as you stare at where he moves to lean against the front of his desk, arms crossed and waiting for an answer with that stupid smirk of his, “Hey now, that tea is expensive, so don’t go wasting it, okay?”

“Who told you about that?” you press for answers, a hint of anger in your voice as you ignore his previous statement about the tea. He had plenty to spare anyway.

Wriothesley’s smirk widens a bit, “So it is true.”

Damn him.

You don’t even bother trying to make an excuse, knowing your best friend all too well. He’d pick apart your words like weeds in a garden, finding meaning in them that you hadn’t even intended.

“And what if it is true?” you cross your arms defensively, glaring at him from across the room.

“At least tell me who it is,” he says as he rests his palms on the wooden desk behind him. When you don’t give in to his pleading, he playfully scoffs, “Oh c’mon, I’m your best friend! It’s kinda an obligation for you to tell me these things.”

You turn away, fixating your gaze on a nearby wall adorned with some weird painting he had hung awhile back, “Oh yeah? Since when? Last I checked there aren’t any rule books for being friends with someone. I don’t have to tell you a damn thing.”

“It’s Neuvillette, isn’t it?” he smiles knowingly. Perhaps that was why you were always the one receiving tasks from the Chief Justice instead of him — a guess at best, but enough evidence to convince him Neuvillette was the one.

No, you idiot. It’s you.

You snap your head back toward him, “What? No! I don’t like Neuvillette…not like that, at least. He’s nice and all, but I don’t think I’d be able to date the guy.”

“Damn, I really thought I had that one,” Wriothesley mumbles in defeat, pushing himself off the desk and instead moving to walk around the room as he thinks. It scares you. The fact that he’s so particular with facts and little details that it’s only a matter of time before he collects all the pieces to the puzzle and figures out he’s the one you like. What would he say when that happens? “Too nice, huh? So you like someone a little colder, then.”

Damn it, he got you again!

You don’t answer him.

“Not even going to try to deny it?”

“No,” you grumble to yourself, slumping further into the couch, “you’re only going to dig further anyway.”

He gives a satisfied hum, “Right, so it’s Clorinde then. I mean c’mon, we don’t get a lot of visitors, so it has to be her. She fits the description too.”

You exhaustedly sigh and swipe a hand over your face dramatically, done with his antics, “It’s not her either. And there is no ‘description.’”

He perks up in a way that makes you way too uncomfortable, “Navia?”

“No, I’ve never even met her aside from like one time two years ago,” you refute, sliding further down on the couch to fully lie down and shut your eyes, “I don’t get why you’re so excited over this.”

Wriothesley thinks for a moment before squinting his eyes, “Don’t tell me you have a crush on a prisoner?”

You teasingly peek an eye open while leaning back to look at him, “And if I did?”

“You better not,” he warns, pointing a stern finger at you like you were a prisoner and not his coworker.

You laugh to yourself at his sudden change of mood, “Relax, I was only joking!”

“Not funny,” he says unamused, prepared to pull out the prison’s rule book and slap it over your head if you did, “I’m really runnin’ out of people here.”

“Yeah, okay,” you say sarcastically, resisting the urge to roll your eyes, “thousands of people live in Fontaine. You’ll figure it out eventually.”

You really hope he doesn’t.

The following ten minutes consist of Wriothesley irritatingly pacing around the room and mumbling all sorts of names to himself. Some of which you recognized, others you had never even heard of before. And, despite all of your countless no’s to his guesses, he never gives up. Nor does he realize the answer is right in front of him.

“Just give it up already,” you finally interrupt as he stops in front of you.

A heavy sigh falls from Wriothesley’s lips as he collapses onto the couch, narrowly missing where your legs were outstretched. Defeatedly, he lays his head against the back of the sofa, shutting his eyes as he thinks a little harder. “Oh my god,” he says suddenly, head shooting up to look at you, “…don’t tell me.”

No way. Did he figure it out?

Your breath captures in your throat as his eyes flicker back and forth between your own, searching for some sort of truth. He knows. Your best friend knows that you have feelings for him — and not just the platonic kind.

His brows furrow and his face morphs into one of disgust. It makes your heart drop; the way he’s looking at you.

He doesn’t feel the same way.

“I can’t believe it,” he clicks his tongue in disgust, crossing his arms and turning his attention away from you, “you like Furina.”

Your jaw drops to the floor and suddenly you don’t feel bad anymore, “I actually can’t believe you just said that. Archons, I think you need to visit Sigewinne. I mean, seriously! Furina? Of all people!”

He grins and shrugs carelessly, “I don’t know? She was the last person I could think of.”

“Something is seriously wrong with you.”

“Clearly not so wrong that I couldn’t figure out that the person you actually like is me.”

“Oh please, I don’t even—wait, what? You knew?!”

A boisterous laugh erupts suddenly as you stare at him with wide eyes. You sit up on the couch quickly, slapping his shoulder as he continues to laugh, “Sorry, sorry!”

You don’t find it amusing, “I—when did you figure it out?”

His laugh eventually subsides into a drawn out sigh and his blue eyes soften a bit as they gaze into your own, “I’m not an idiot, you know? I wouldn’t be running this place if I was.”

“Right,” you mumble awkwardly, averting your gaze from his, “so, um, were you just doing all that to lighten the mood so you could let me down easily or…?”

“Or…what?” Wriothesley mocks you, a playful smirk pulling at his lips.

You roll your eyes with a scoff, “don’t make me say it.”

He spares you, luckily. It’s unlike him, but he doesn’t care to joke with you any longer when the subject is so serious, “Yes, I feel the same way. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“No, I totally wanted to hear you say you hate me and want me dead,” you say sarcastically, trying to fight a smile.

“I’m being serious, I really do like you,” Wriothesley presses, ignoring the way you’re becoming awkward from the nervousness floating in the air.

You finally exhale the breath you had been guarding in your chest, relieved that this didn’t go as horribly as you once thought it would.

The alarm sounding for dinner goes off after and you both stand from your places on the couch, “So what do we do now that that’s out of the way?”

Wriothesley falls into step next to you, holding the doors to his office open to let you out first, “We have our first date in the cafeteria, of course.”

Your face drops and you stop in your tracks to glare at him, “That better be a joke.”

He laughs it off quickly, not thinking you’d take it so seriously. Eagerly, he grabs your hand tightly in his as he pulls you to the exit of the Fortress, “Relax, I’m just teasing you! You deserve only the best, after all.”

“You are so annoying.”

“Only for you, sweetheart.”

[roseykat]

TITLE: How they are when they eat you out

SUMMARY: OT8 blurb version of the title.

MASTERLIST

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won't be able to regulate/monitor every single potential interaction with these posts so please do not engage with my work and page whatsoever.

TAGS: mentions of orgasms, sex positions, again nothing too major.

TAGLIST: @xhakumeix

A/N: here is another spicy blurb/work of mine! Thank you everyone for engaging with my posts, messaging and following! I really appreciate y’all 😭💗 also side note again, I’ll spellcheck this when I get home!

BANG CHAN

Deliberately goes slow. He likes foreplay but also teasing you. Thrives off of feeling your legs shake around his head as he goes down on you. If you can’t handle the overbearing intensity of pleasure, he’ll snake his arms around your thighs, gripping and holding you there to ensure that you will take everything he gives you.

However, Chan is a firm reinforcer of edging and uses his mouth to achieve that. He’ll have you squirming and trembling every single time he brings you to the edge. Whenever you try and inch closer towards his tongue, he’ll pull away, leaving you frustrated and angry. But edging has a high purpose, and that’s to make you cum ten times harder than you usually would.

“I know how much you want to cum right now,” Chan says. “So lie back and let me get you there.”

-

MINHO

Eats pussy for sport and will make you cum as hard and as fast as possible and as many times as you’ll let him. He’ll tease when he wants but for the most part, he wants to watch you writhe and shake. Hearing you scream out his name is a phenomenon that he can never get over. Minho also likes eating you out in positions that will have you screaming and where you’re bound to cum - literally.

He will have your legs bent at your sides, tied up so you can’t move, and will eat you out for an hour or two, otherwise until you’re crying from how much pleasure you’re in. In those positions, there’s nowhere for you to go or move other than the surface of his hot tongue.

“Like cumming on my mouth don’t you?” Minho asks. “I’ll make you cum again, and again, and again - until you start to forget your name.”

-

CHANGBIN

Eats it like he means it. Will make you cum more than once with his mouth and won’t settle for anything less. He will have you in tears from how intense the orgasms are that he gives you. It’s a real contrast to how tender and nurturing he is when it comes to taking care of you afterwards. Nonetheless, Changbin will eat you out like it’s the last thing he’ll do.

He doesn’t stop unless you want him to. Sometimes you give him free rein which, in all honesty, is a terrible idea sometimes because Changbin will cease at nothing to make you cum so hard that you start seeing stars. What’s even better is because of his strength, it’s near to impossible to squirm away from his mouth, rendering you to cum hard regardless.

“Look how pretty you are when you cum,” Changbin sigh’s exasperatedly.

-

HYUNJIN

Is very attentive. Studies every reaction that he brings out of you as soon as his mouth is buried in between your legs. Hyunjin also has the tendency to overstimulate the shit out of you. Half of the time he doesn’t actually mean to. He just gets off on the change in pitch of your moans, how you sometimes go silent when you cum, or when you grip onto his hair as tight as you can.

His method of making you orgasm multiple times ensures that your legs will be shaking and your moans will fill the space around him. The only unfortunate thing for him when it comes to eating you out is that he can’t see your entire body, especially when you cum.

“You’re shaking baby,” Hyunjin points out. “Feels that good, huh?”

-

JISUNG

Is sloppy, but in the best way possible. He’s unfazed about how wet you are, how much of it gets on his face, if it’s on the bed, the floor, the kitchen counter - whatever. That’s applicable to every situation where he’s eating you out, even when Jisung feels lazy. In saying that, there are two sides to him, and he can go either way; he’ll either eat you out like he’s been deprived of it for months, or if he’s feeling lazy but still wants to go down on you, he’ll eat slowly.

If that’s the case, he will ask you to just sit on his face. It’s convenient for him to lie back and eat you out that way. Hell - he’ll even let you use his face to make yourself cum however many times you want. Jisung will say it so casually that it sometimes turns you on more. Despite him feeling lazy, that doesn’t mean to say that he isn’t into it - he is definitely into it.

“I’m horny as fuck,” Jisung says before smiling. “Sit on my face?”

-

FELIX

Going down on you is already a task that’s intimate enough as it is, but Felix’s entire aura seems to enhance that even further, to the point where you feel so good that it’s emotional. Almost every time - guaranteed - Felix will interlock his fingers with yours when his head is buried between your legs. He’ll kiss your inner thighs, softly on your clit, delicately sucking and licking to slowly build you up to a peak.

He analyses what you like so well that every time he goes down on you, he makes sure to follow that routine to achieve the same results if not better. It’s almost like one of his games to him, except the rewards are better in every aspect. Lix just wants to make sure you feel good.

“Can never get enough of you,” Felix says. “Wanna make you cum as much as you’ll let me.”

-

SEUNGMIN

Is a tease. Even during foreplay he’ll edge you with his mouth. He’ll never give you exactly what you want when you want it. If he’s going down on you, and you’re ready to cum, Seungmin will stop right before you start tipping over the edge just so he can fuck you in order to make you cum on his cock instead. Then again, if he feels generous, it’ll be his mouth that makes you cum, especially as a form of reward if you can go a day or two without being an absolute brat.

But that’s the side of Seungmin who likes to be dominant. There’s the other face of the coin where he can be very tender. In those instances when he is going down on you, expect to see a lot more affection from him. He won’t just focus solely on your clit, he’ll go slow, check in on you, and make you cum more than once because he’s also a gentleman.

“I’m the only one who can make you feel this good,” says Seungmin. “Nobody else can make you cum the way I do.”

-

JEONGIN

Knows exactly what he’s doing when it comes to eating you out. Jeongin chooses to go slow whenever he does because of how attentive he is. He wants to make sure that each second his face is buried in between your legs that your body feels good. Every now and then it’s a bit frustrating because all you want to do is just cum as quickly as you can, so as you squirm or grip his hair to try and make him go faster, that’s when he’ll decide to intentionally tease you and go slow.

He likes to hold around your thighs, gently squeezing them to hold you firm around his head. The struggles you have when it comes to putting up with his tongue is next level. He has the technique to make you cum in under a minute minimum. He’s unassuming but he’s just that good at it.

“Can feel your legs shaking,” Jeongin says. “I want to feel them shake even more.”

[bitternanami]

something i think is really interesting about dungeon meshi is the cast's respective views on food as the story progresses. the way many adventurers get through the dungeon is to eat when they Must, but mostly rely on healing magic to keep going when they're tired or beaten down. death is something you can buy your way out of, here.

having these lower stakes when it comes to running yourself too hard has made a lot of people in this setting kind of devalue food and what it does for you.

im not all the way through the manga yet, but so far i really like how it goes about debunking that mindset.

long post under the cut, cw explicit discussion of disordered eating. textual depiction of unhealthy methods of dealing with it. please be cautious!

it seems like to most folks, food is either a decadent luxury, like when the governor offers mr tance a feast as a show of power and wealth, (although he is the only one who actually eats in that scene as he talks about his ambitions);

[id: the governor and mr. tance talk politics and hierarchies, while the governor eats from a bowl. mr. tance's meal is not visible behind a speech bubble.

"so you believe the sorceror is an elf?" he asks.

"i can't say with absolute certainty," mr. tance replies, "but the spells are not ones dwarves and humans typically use." /end id]

like the painted-royal feasts laios tries to partake in that never actually nourish him...

[id: laios, fresh out of the living painting feast, surprisedly holding his grumbling stomach /end id]

or, to the working class, it's pretty much exclusively fuel. i'm thinking about the scene where kabru's party, ostensibly intended to be our view into how adventuring Typically goes for most people, is shown preparing to go to the dungeon by like. walking up to someone and ordering 'a weeks' worth of rations.' purely functional.

[id: kabru enters a store, and the merchant says "welcome!"

kabru says "i need a week's worth of rations for six, and two days' worth of water."

"sure thing." the merchant then reaches behind him and grabs a large cube-shaped package, wrapped in nondescript cloth and tied in place. it thumps onto the counter in front of them both. /end id]

when kabru hands mickbell his food for the trip, he complains about how heavy it is on his back. it's a necessary liability.

we also see chilchuck, in an early chapter where there isn't much food to go around, grumbling about how he used to be better at not noticing when he was hungry. he's frustrated that he's more attuned to his bodily needs, now that he's starting to fill them with regularity.

[id: chilchuck, the only one awake, sits in his bedroll and glares at the timekeeping-candle burning down in front of him while he listens to his stomach growl. moving to find his canteen and fill himself with water instead, he thinks to himself, "my stomach has gotten weaker. i used to be able to go two days without food." /end id]

(like im not even gonna lie this is a big mood. the healing process is really really annoying)

even laios, early on, working out the logistics of going back for falin, considers his expenses and ultimately the thing he decides to save money on is their food supply. like, even the guy most invested in eating as an experience kind of just assumes he will Figure It Out. its what hes eating, not how hes eating it that matters to him at that point.

[id: marcille looks down at the ingredients they've gathered, the walking mushroom and the scorpion in an unappetizing heap on the ground, and asks laios "so how exactly do we eat them?"

he responds "let's just cook them, like normal." /end id]

but its here that senshi introduces the idea of food as art and as healing. its exciting and its fascinating for laios, getting to taste the creatures hes been reading about and fighting, but i dont think it would ever really help him feel full if not for this.

[id: three panels of laios tasting the scorpion hotpot, looking stunned, and then excitedly telling senshi "delicious!"

senshi matches his energy, asking "isn't it? isn't it?" /end id]

pictured: guy who had resigned himself to kind of just doing his best rediscovers the joy in something tasting really fucking good

what they did last time isnt going to work. falin is gone, and constantly anesthetizing their pain and healing through their weakness is no longer a realistic option for the party. in order to make it through they must all relearn how to eat well, one by one and as a group over and over again, because its either that or nothing.

one of my favorite depictions of this idea thus far is when marcille is seriously low on health and mana, and both of these problems are mitigated by taking care of herself, and trying to get iron and protein

[id: marcille, looking sickly, wakes to laios saying, "marcille, marcille, can you sit up? we've got something nice for you."

she watches senshi grill pieces of kelpie liver on a low fire, while laios ties a bib around her neck. /end id]

and drinking a bunch of dead water spirits. she gets the idea, she's supposed to get in nutrients and it'll help her feel better, but in aiming for the quick, inefficient fix, namely chugging that shit down like she heard it was good to Stay Hydrated and decided that would be the thing that fixes her,

[id: marcille throws back a cup of boiled undine-water, her face red. laios asks, "do you really need to drink it that fast?"

she gasps out "...the magical energy stored in nature spirits is actually quite hard to absorb. even if you drink a lot, the majority of it is excreted without being absorbed," and takes another drink. "that's why i need to drink as much as i can."

laios says weakly "you'll get water poisoning," but marcille only stops when senshi puts a hand on her shoulder and says,

"it's easier to absorb nutrients if ye digest them with food. that's a fundamental rule of nutrition."

marcille says, "senshi..." contemplative

and he holds out a bowl of tentuclus and a thumbs up. "let's get cooking!" /end id]

she doesn't immediately realize the answer is that she needs more than that. she's been working hard. she needs care, and she needs nourishment.

once she gets that, though, she makes her boiled water into a stew, and she works to make that stew as good as she can, and everyone can have some.

because in dungeon meshi, to feed yourself or allow yourself to be fed is treated as performing a kindness for yourself. food is what propels you, but there is also an art and a joy inherent to the process of making it; in the way you feel when you've had enough to eat.

[id: senshi watches as chilchuck and marcille eat and excitedly hash out plans.

"i've got a good feeling about this! maybe it'll work out!" chilchuck says

marcille responds, "well it's easier to feel optimistic on a full stomach!"

senshi smiles, proud. /end id]

^^^ i want to put this image on my wall

when you're working through disordered eating habits, you really do have to keep learning this shit. (in my experience, learning about cooking is one of the best ways to do so.)

i'll have to see if my thesis holds up as i continue, but i think one of the reasons the portrayal here resonates with me so hard is that ryoko kui puts most of her characters at eye level with me on this. they're all working at it, too. the text and i are both commiserating, and encouraging each other, 'have some more, you'll feel better.'

[dustofthedailylife]

It Must Be Love

-> Masterlist || → Taglist

Pairing: Blade, Dan Heng, Jing Yuan, Gepard, Welt x (gn!) Reader

Summary: When they realized they had feelings for you...

Tags: Fluff, SFW, mention of injuries (Blade), just them realizing they're completely smitten

A/N: My last fic before my Japan vacation! I got a lot more in my WIP stash that I'll get to after. Excited to get to that when I'm back, or maybe I can finish one or the other fic in the evening on my vacation when I'm in bed. We'll see. Stay amazing until then! <3

BLADE

When you joined the Stellaron Hunters he shot down your every attempt of trying to get to know him and stayed clear of you. He was curt and only ever spoke with you if it was necessary. In his opinion, there was no need for you two to be acquainted. And it would be for your own good anyway.

It wasn’t until you came back gravely injured from a mission and were passed out for days, that he wouldn’t leave your side.

He sat on the armchair in your room most of the time, and was either sleeping or meditating with his eyes closed. He occasionally switched your bandages and cleaned your wounds while insisting he’d be the only one to do it. After all, he involuntarily had quite the expertise with injuries himself.

And when the day you began to stir awake again finally came, and he heard the quiet plea for water come over your parched lips, he felt a wave of relief wash over him.

He told himself over and over again that he didn’t care about anyone and wouldn’t dare to allow himself to care anymore. In fact, he may have even thought he wasn’t capable of it anymore. But feelings are often beyond one's control or rational explanation. And deep down he had always known that he cared deeply about you. 

He had only steered clear of you because it had been evident to him, that if he allowed himself to care, there would be no going back. Alas, it now was too late for that as well. Yet it did not matter any longer. All he cared about was that you were still alive.

“Never get hurt like this again.” He scolded with a voice seemingly devoid of any emotion, as he lifted a bottle of water to your lips so you could drink. 

But despite the underlying sharp tone in his voice, there was sincere concern in his eyes only a few people ever got to see. And he knew he was no longer able to hide it.

DAN HENG

Himeko brought you along one day and introduced you to the Astral Express Crew as their newest member, a bundle of energy much like March. And everyone seems ecstatic to welcome you aboard. Everyone but Dan Heng. He curtly introduced himself without shaking your outstretched hand, before vanishing back to his room again without another word.

It would be a lie if he said he didn’t find you attractive, but Alas, he couldn’t allow himself to get closer. One more person on the Express only meant there were more people he had to keep secrets from. Besides, you seemed just as lively and energetic as March was, and if he was sure of one thing it’s that one March was already enough. So that was even more reason to steer clear of you for his own peace of mind.

So in turn he tried keeping you at an arm's length. The only problem however was, that you apparently weren’t deterred by his cold demeanor and practically threw yourself at him at every chance you got.

You would often knock on his door to bring him some freshly brewed tea, rummage through the archive or call him quirky nicknames you came up with. He could only roll his eyes at them, but secretly he began to like them and caught himself smiling whenever he thought of them. 

At first, he managed to remain distanced and only spoke to you when it was strictly necessary, but he soon began to warm up more and more. Until he would eventually find himself beginning to crave your presence every day.

And it was when he found himself looking at the empty chair you used to sit on almost every evening now, that he became aware of his feelings for you. The naggings and nicknames that used to bother him, now made his heart beat quicker and a tingly feeling made itself known in his stomach.

The simple image of your smile made the corners of his mouth twitch upwards. The sound of your voice always managed to soothe his nerves. And your absence made him feel incomplete.

It was then he had to admit to himself that there was no longer any point in denying it. He had inevitably fallen for you.

JING YUAN

When there was more administrative work to do on the Luofu due to the recent happenings, Qingzu, who was assisting Jing Yuan with the additional workload, proposed to hire someone else to help as well. To be precise, help with caring for the general’s lion, since it was usually Qingzu’s task. But since she was preoccupied with other matters right now, there was a distinct lack of time.

And that’s when you were hired.

You were tasked to care for Mimi in Qingzu’s stead from hereon out and seemed to immediately get along with the animal quite well, too. It certainly put Jing Yuan’s mind at ease to know that his lion was adequately cared for.

One day, when Jing Yuan returned earlier than usual from his duties he found you peacefully asleep on the sofa, your head comfortably nestled in the fur of the equally asleep lion. But he didn’t dare to disturb your slumber and returned to his desk with a smile on his face since he too felt the weight of sleep oftentimes throughout the day.

Once you awoke you practically jumped up when you saw him sitting at his desk already, ushering a shy “Oh, General. I didn’t expect you to be back home at such a time already. Forgive me.”

He just let out a soft chuckle in reply, assuring you that there was no need to worry and that it actually put his mind at ease that you got along so well with Mimi.

After this, he made a conscious effort to come back home earlier more often. And every time, without fail, he would find you sleeping together with his lion in the afternoon sun. Your peaceful expression and the quiet purr of his lion truly was a sight for sore eyes 

And if his lion loved you, what was he supposed to feel if not the same?

GEPARD

Gepard saw you for the first time when he stopped by his sister's workshop. He caught a quick glimpse of you before you vanished into the side room of the workshop again.

Of course, his sister immediately caught him staring. Because he stood there stunned and only stared holes into the door you vanished through. 

If Serval was good at one thing, it was reading Gepard like a book. And she only needed one look at his face to know exactly what he was thinking. Of course, she took the opportunity to tease him about it with a big grin across her face, much to the embarrassment of Gepard who only cleared his throat and diverted the topic, unable to hide the red blooming across his cheeks.

He soon found out that you were a singer and songwriter and that you and Serval sometimes performed together in a local club. And he found himself venturing there on his off days to watch your show. 

Serval introduced you to him and eventually, you began to become closer. Asking him if he would come to your next gig as well. And of course, he did. In fact, he did so often that he had all your songs memorized down to a T now and often found himself humming them absentmindedly throughout the day. 

And suddenly, as one of his subordinates asked him which song he keeps humming all the time now, he became aware of the feelings he harbored for you.

The warm, prickly feeling within his chest. The way his heartbeat quickened, or the corners of his mouth turned upwards involuntarily whenever he saw you, talked to you, or thought of you.

It was undeniable. He had fallen in love in love with you.

WELT

Welt and you were just colleagues. At least that's what he was trying to convince himself of at first. 

Research and worries about your mission often woke you up at night recently, so you often got up to brew a fresh pot of coffee. And Welt found you sitting in an armchair in the parlor car one night when he, too, got up in the middle of the night because his thoughts had kept him awake.

You offered him a cup of coffee as well before you sat back down. Each just sipped their coffee in silence. You gazed at the stars outside of the window of the Express while he tried to read some book to keep his mind off the thoughts that had kept him awake.

Yet, he found himself unable to concentrate on it and instead stole glances at you while rattling his brain about what he could talk about with you.

Eventually, you were the first one to break the silence. Initiating a conversation about the vastness of the universe and the thing that are yet beyond any human comprehension. Asking questions no man knew an answer to yet. And he was more than happy to indulge in the conversation. 

You ended up talking until the morning hours that night without the conversation ever dying down. He enjoyed the talk you had so much, he found himself thinking about it for weeks after.

Long deep talks over a fresh pot of coffee in the middle of the night should soon become a habit for both of you.

And he came to crave them so much that he even started setting an alarm at night and went to check if you were there again as well. And most of the time you were. 

One night, when he looked at you and saw the light of the stars reflect in your eyes once again, he too had to admit he was looking straight at a star himself.

Do not repost, copy, translate or edit - © dustofthedailylife || reblogs, comments, and asks about HSR or my fics are always greatly appreciated and motivate me! Maple dividers are mine - do not copy.

[piichuu]

♡ SLEEPING ON THE COUCH AFTER AN ARGUMENT

FEATURING: sugawara koushi, kageyama tobio, ushijima wakatoshi

WARNINGS: hurt/comfort (ish), fluff, gn!reader

SUGAWARA KOUSHI

“let’s not fight anymore, the couch must be uncomfortable for you to sleep on,” your boyfriend speaks as his hand is gently put on your shoulder. he has been sitting on the floor, right by the couch for a couple of minutes now, but this is the first time he speaks up. you should’ve known that he wouldn’t let you go to sleep in such an uncomfortable place, especially not after a fight. “we don’t have to talk about it right now, i just want you to come to bed so you’ll have a good nights sleep. if you don’t want to cuddle, we don’t have to, just don’t sleep out here.”

sugawara begins to brush his fingers through your tangled hair and sighs, waiting for you to reply or move. it takes a little bit, but you eventually begin to sit up, now looking down at the man who is still sitting on the floor, wearing the pajamas he put on hours ago. “there you are. come on, let’s head to bed,” he reaches his hand out for you to take which you do, allowing him to lead you into the bedroom where the two of you lie down without you saying a word to one another.

he watches as you get under the covers and once again turn your back to him, so he strokes your arm gently. “i’m sorry for earlier, sweetheart. it’s been a long week for the both of us and we aren’t in our right minds. just know that i’m not mad at you for anything, it may have seemed like it earlier, but i promise you that it was stress that has been built up by my co-workers, not you,” sugawara explains as he eventually moves his hand away from you so you’ll get the space you need.

as you don’t say anything, he closes his eyes and attempts to fall asleep. the two of you usually never go to sleep without solving a fight, but he won’t force you to try and talk to him either, knowing that it might just cause the frustration to grow. so he tries his best, hoping he’ll wake up in the morning and be able to talk to you, but he can’t sleep like this, not knowing whether you’re mad at him or not. those thoughts are however put to sleep as you finally wrap your arms around his middle and nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck. “i’m sorry, i don’t want to fight.”

a slight smile spreads over his lips and he presses a gentle kiss to your temple. “we’re good, baby. let’s just go to sleep together now. i love you.”

KAGEYAMA TOBIO

he sighs when he finds you already sleeping on the couch, not having spoken to him since he went to take a shower in hopes to rid of all the frustration and stress that’s been taking over for the last couple of days. volleyball practices have become more as him and his team are about to go into a tournament in just two days, so the stress has truly gotten to him, but also to you. he’s aware of the fact that you’re stressed about not being able to come with him for his upcoming games due to school work, so you try to spend as much time with him as possible, but it’s difficult when he’s barely home.

kageyama wants to be with you more than anything in the entire world, but the time often flies away when he’s practicing and the time for you decreases into only a few hours at night when you’re already asleep. when you wake up in the morning, he’s either making a quick breakfast for himself and gives you a kiss goodbye before leaving or he’s already left without a word. he’s never able to wake up beside you nor come home when you aren’t asleep.

today he was tired after hours of practicing and even though he had been looking forward to seeing you as he would finally get home a little earlier, he didn’t expect himself to be met by you with tears in your eyes as you begged for him to stay home the next day so the two of you could spend time together before he had to leave. it wasn’t possible, not now when it’s only a few days left until the tournament, his coach would kill him.

so here he is, standing by the couch, contemplating every single life choice he’s made. what did he even do to deserve someone who keeps trying when he is barely ever there? how come you stay when you never get to talk to him? he certainly doesn’t know, but something he does know is of his love for you. “i’m sorry,” he whispers while laying down behind you on the couch. his arms wrap around your waist as he buries his face into your neck. “i’m gonna come up with something to spend time with you before i leave, i swear. i love you so much, so so much. i wish i could be a with you all the time…”

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI

he sits on the edge of the couch, leaning back against the cushions while looking at you who’s already sleeping. you would be in bed if it wasn’t for him and his stubbornness. ushijima injured his arm during his last practice and had been told by doctors not to work out for at least a month, but how did you find him when you got home from work? carrying weights back to their place as if he had just been training. how could you not scold him when he was risking his own arm getting even worse?

at first, he wasn’t agreeing to anything you said as he kept on saying that it wasn’t a big deal and that “it doesn’t even hurt anymore”. but as you only became more furious about the fact that he wouldn’t listen and then went to sleep on the couch instead of in bed with him, he slowly but surely began to understand that he was in fact making his arm worse. you had the right to be worried, but ushijima had no right being so stubborn.

“i’m really sorry for not listening to you,” your boyfriend mumbles as he searches for your hand to hold, giving it a gentle squeeze. “i won’t work out again until the doctors tell me that it’s okay, i promise. it was stupid of me to not listen to either them or you,” he sighs and closes his eyes for a moment, drowning in his own stupidity until he can hear you stir.

“you always make me worry about you so much, you’re so stupid,” you mumble while sitting up, wrapping your arms around his neck. “next time i find you like that, i might actually commit a crime,” usuijima chuckles lightly and shakes his head. “i won’t do it again, i swear. i will listen to your worries from here on out.”

he eventually climbs onto the couch and wraps his arms around your waist. “i hope your arm doesn’t hurt too much now,” you mumble, stroking his hair. ushijima shakes his head and flashes you a soft smile. “it doesn’t, thankfully. thank you for looking out for me, darling.”

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[ratridingaskateboard]

Always See Your Face

New girl! Reader x Eddie

Summary: There is a new girl at Hawkins and Dustin will do anything to make sure Eddie doesn't find out.

Warnings: slight sexual innuendos, cursing, mentions of drugs. Y/N is described!

A/N: Hi! This is the first time I have written a fic in a while but I hope you enjoy it! Depending on the feedback I get from this I might write more :) FYI perspectives in this story will change and will be indicated by: --

--

Dustin had always been one to have his friends' best interests in mind. He might have overstepped boundaries at times but he knew what was best for him and his friends. Even though Eddie was several years older than him, he still knew that the last thing Eddie needed in his life was a girlfriend. What if he started hanging out with her and Hellfire stopped existing? What would happen with his band? Everything would go to shit because some girl would grab his attention for 2 seconds.

Dustin found himself every morning before school sitting in the back of Eddie's van with the back doors open. Eddie let them sit in the back and read comics while he would perform his drug deals for the kids who had extracurricular activities after school. Dustin looked up from his X-Men to observe a car he had never seen before. Strange, but not uncommon to see until he saw a figure he had never seen before.

She dawned a black denim jacket adorned with several Metal and Punk bands that Dustin would not be able to recognize but had seen in Eddie's vast cassette collection. Her legs were barely covered by a short red plaid schoolgirl skirt and her chest was wrapped in a Sex Pistols T-shirt. She was bending down to seemingly grab her backpack from her backseat and several football douchebags whistled at the response of seeing her backside. This did not catch her attention though as she quickly grabbed her backpack and placed it on the roof of her car. She glanced at Dustin and he felt himself gulp. Fuck- He was staring at Eddie's dream girl. He frequently heard Eddie go on tangents that no girl in Hawkins had the same interests as him. Now he proved himself wrong- Dustin could prove it with his own eyes. Not only did she have his style but she had a pretty face similar to that of one of the girls from one of Eddie's porn mags that Dustin had unfortunately found in his van. They both shared the same long brown hair and doe-shaped eyes.

What was Dustin going to do? Not only was this girl weirded out by the amount of time Dustin had been ogling her but she could ruin everything. She did not even understand the power she possessed by simply existing in the wrong place and at the wrong time. He had to do everything in his power to make sure neither of them saw each other.

Dustin's feet started to jog in her direction as she had already begun her strut to the front entrance of the school. Before Dustin could get the chance to tap her shoulder, she swiftly turned to face him, discomfort shown in her face.

"Hey man, I would really enjoy it if you could leave me alone." She barked.

"No no no! I don't mean anything bad by following you. I'm sorry for staring at you earlier but um... Oh! The principal had actually sent me to give you a tour of the school and to show you where your classes are!" Dustin had secured a good enough lie to not seem like the creep he was presenting himself to be.

Her eyes widened and her gaze softened.

"Oh, okay." She smiled and Dustin could feel himself getting more anxious knowing that she was that pretty when she smiled.

The bell began to rang, signaling to every student that it was time for Hell to begin. Dustin heard a familiar voice call out to Mike and he swiftly grabbed her hand and pulled her into the school, making sure to avoid any possibly common route Eddie normally took.

"Can I see your schedule?" Dustin asked, giving out his hand eagerly.

It seemed like she could hear the annoyance in Dustin's words and swiftly pulled out the crumpled sheet of paper from her pocket and handed it to him. Dustin quickly looked over the paper and let out a sigh of relief. Even though she was a senior, she did not seem to have a single class with Eddie most likely because her classes were for the more advanced students.

"Okay, Y/N. This way!"

Dustin guided her to her first classroom, Mr. Stadford's Physics class, and said that he would meet up with her after her second. After the first period was over, Dustin ran to meet up with Y/N and to make sure he was able to beat her before she left the classroom. Yes, Eddie and her shared similar hallways for classes but Eddie had a tendency to be late to each and every class he went to. Alongside this, Dustin made sure that she was always early to her classes. This cycle repeated until lunch.

--

Y/N had found herself bound to the little curly-headed boy. She shouldn't say boy he was only a couple years younger than her. Moving was hard but going to a new school was even harder. Her parents' divorce could not have been more sudden and even though he had been a tad bit too eager, she really appreciated Dustin's kindness.

She frowned after exiting her third-period class to find no Dustin. Guess she would have to find the cafeteria by herself or simply follow the crowd that had corralled its way down the hall.

Once she entered the cafeteria, she felt the eyes on her, all over her. Thankfully, there were plenty of tables that had not recognized that fresh blood had entered their school. She saw a familiar head of curls bobble in laughter and she started her stride in his direction.

Once she had gotten to the table, it seemed to be filled with only boys all wearing the same T-shirt Dustin was wearing. She assumed it must be some sort of club he had not introduced her to yet. The majority of the boys had noticed her walk up to the table and she could tell they were not often approached by women. The only ones who hadn't noticed were Dustin and an older boy with long shaggy brown hair.

"Hey," She put her hand on Dustin's shoulder and her moved her head down to his level. "I know you showed me around and I might be asking for too much but is it alright if I sit with you?"

A look of dread filled Dustin's face as he looked up at her from his lunch. She had automatically assumed that he had felt bad for not escorting her to the lunch room.

"It's okay! I found the lunch room just fine." She rubbed his shoulder to put him at ease and sat down next to him.

There was nothing but silence.

She had felt as if she had sat at the wrong table and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Dustin was still agape and didn't seem to have changed his expression even after her reassurance. She turned to view the other boys at the table. They stared at her with a sense of confusion and wonder but all too awkward to speak first.

Finally, she turned to the boy sitting at the end of the table. His gaze softened when she gazed at him. His eyes were wide also in shock from a stranger sitting at their table but there was something different in his expression that she couldn't quiet read. Embarrassment? No. Confusion? No. Longing? Maybe but not quite.

This silence was cut short by a food tray plopping on the other side of Dustin.

"Jesus, that line was long!" A boy with a bowl cut sighed.

"Where are you guys so quiet?" He looked around in disbelief but immediately found the source when he spotted the brunette sitting on the other side of Dustin.

"Hey." She waved.

--

A/N: Depending on how things go with this I will definitely continue this as a series. Lemme know your thoughts!

[fangirl-dot-com]

Chapter 1 - Wishful Thinking

“AND THAT IS A CHAMPIONSHIP WIN FOR Y/N L/N! THIS MAKES IT THREE BACK TO BACK RACE WINS FOR THE DAMS’ RACER” 

The roar of the crowd is almost deafening. Well, it would be if you could actually hear it. 

“Good job, well done on another season. We couldn't be more proud,” your strategist Stella tells you over the radio. You can only sigh as you raise your hand to wave at the crowds. You don’t even know if they can see, but you try your best. 

You finally reply, “Good work team.” The switch to the radio is flipped back off, you don’t really want to hear anything else. You and your car finally arrive to Parc Ferme and stop right in front of the number 1 sign. It’s a familiar sight to behold. A second home if you will, since most of the season had been dominated by you. 

The steering wheel is turned off and undone and you gently place it down below. Reaching for the hallo, you pull yourself up with a grunt. Standing on the nose, you quickly turn around and raise your fists, earning you multiple cheers and screams. 

Instead of a usual jump, you quickly clamor down and walk to your team. You reach their open arms and are met with the multitudes of pats and hits to your helmet. Your eyes never settle on two specific people that you try to look for. Oh well, they didn’t have to come anyway. It wasn't like you were making history. However, Stella is right in the middle and you give her a giant hug. 

A second sigh is released, but a good one this time. It was more of a relief to be in the arms of one of your closest friends. 

A pat on the shoulder brings you out of your reverie. Turning around, you are met with the helmet of your teammate. 

“Arthur!” you yell and open your arms. It was a P1 – P2 finish for your team for the fourth time this year, the first where Arthur was on the top pedestal. This race not only decided your first championship, but his third second place since becoming your teammate. 

He quickly returned the hug and led you over to the weigh-in stations. After the number had been jotted down by an unknown official, you are finally allowed to take your helmet and balaclava off. Your baby hairs stick to your forehead, but you know your hair is going to get messed up by the champagne in just a few minutes.

“Think I will have a turn next year, non?” Arthur asks with a cheeky smirk, his accent emerging on the last few words. 

"Well, you will have all the chances,” you respond, setting your helmet down on podium. You both make your way to the cool down room and sit in your respective 1 and 2 chairs. 

“And welcome back to the y/n podcast,” Arthur jokes and you take a giant swig of your bottled water. 

“Ah Bearman is late today,” you say, “I guess he got tired of being number 2 guest.” You grin as Ollie walks in a few minutes later. 

“Already started without me?” he asks, watching your impressive overtake in turn 2, which in the end, helped you reach the finish line in a comfortable P1 finish. 

You just shrugged, “You were late.” 

Your eyes were glued to the screen. An impact between Ollie’s teammate Frederik Vesti and Theo Pourchaire had red flagged the race about halfway through. You possibly could have won by 30 seconds, if you had been able to continue and not have a second standing start. 

But oh well, you won anyway. 

A steward came to get you three a couple of moments later. 

She shook her head with a smile, “Why is it always you three?” 

The three of you looked at each other, shrugging. 

It just so happened that the only female, the one who was dominated the F2 world, her teammate, and his best friend almost always found themselves on the three podiums. Most of the time it was her, and others, her teammate, and then the rare sighting of the bear. 

But you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Well, that was a lie. 

But for now, you wouldn’t want it any other way. Just the three of you. 

Ollie went first, followed by Arthur. 

Then it was your turn to take the middle and highest podium. Taking the trophy from the man, you raised it above your head, fist clenched above. It was truly a sight to behold. Your head was held high as your national anthem blared through the sound speaker, and then the French anthem played for the team. 

Right when the anthem finished, the familiar tune of “Les Toreadors Carmen” began. You quickly picked up your bottle of champagne. Slightly shaking the bottle, you quickly pointed it towards the two boys, who had already started spraying theirs at you. 

Trying to get away, you accidently kicked your trophy off the top step. With wide eyes, you watched at the top popped off, leaving the base and the actual trophy apart. You quickly looked up and saw both the boys pointing and laughing. You stood in amazement and looked around as if to see if anyone had seen it. Who were you kidding though, of course people had seen it and cameras as well. Oops. At least it was your trophy. 

Your hair soon became sticky with the sparkling liquid, your race suit becoming a darker color as it was saturated. You wiped your eyes and you brought the over-sized bottle to your lips. Looking straight into the go-pro, you took a swig and crossed your eyes. 

The F2 page would definitely use that footage later. 

After the celebrations were over, you quickly made your way towards the journalists that were waiting outside of your garage. 

They all shouted your name, wanting to get a quote for whatever paper or website they were writing for. You quickly walked up and grabbed one of the microphones. 

A familiar blond woman spoke up first, “Wow, what an amazing accomplishment you’ve done today. How are you feeling?” 

There was the overused question. 

You took a deep breath before replying, “Ah it was a good run. Not everyone gets an opportunity to do this so I am very happy.” Your smile, however, never really reaches your eyes. 

A man with glasses speaks up next, “I know you must be ready for the break after this history breaking win. Do you have any plans for the upcoming winter vacation?” 

“Well, you know. Just be at home and enjoy it,” you paused before smirking, “And get some more hours in on the sim. Just doing what I normally do when I’m home.” You shrug after you finish. 

They reporters jot down things on their pads of paper. You think that you can finally go back to the comfort of your driver’s room when one more man speaks up. This time with a weird colored tie. 

“Regarding the recent hiring of Bianca Bustamante at McLaren for their Driver Development Program, how are you feeling knowing that a woman, not even in F2, now has a chance to drive an F1 car before you do?” 

Now that question gets you and you pause. 

What? 

You stutter out, “I’m sorry?” 

The man takes a deep breath. “Well I know that you recently projected that you’d be interested in an Formula 1 team as big as McLaren and hoped that you’d be able to get one foot in the door. I mean, you’ve been in F2 for three years now, and you aren’t even a reserve driver?” The man pressed his recorder closer to you. 

Suddenly, the outside felt like it was closing in. Taking a deep breath, you try to answer to the best of your ability. 

“Well, number one, I wasn’t aware that Bianca had been signed, but good for her. There always needs to be more openings for women in motor sports and I’m glad that she got in. Am I disappointed? Sure, but that’s life. My turn will come soon.” 

The man nodded and looked away. 

Seeing as no one spoke up after your statement, you said a quick thank you before handing the microphone to someone else. 

Finally you could retreat back to your room and finally change. 

The minute the door close, you leaned back against it and slid to the floor. Reaching for your phone, you quickly open the Instagram app. Orange upon orange is the first thing you see. 

Headlines of “BUSTAMANTE SIGNS WITH MCLAREN FOR DRIVER DEVELOPMENT” were all you could see. 

Tears pricked your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Of course they would go with her. Much more pretty, definitely meets the CEO’s look of younger drivers, would look gorgeous in papaya. 

All the things you believed yourself not to be. 

You knew it was a long stretch sending an email wanting to discuss future plans with the papaya team. They already had all the reserve drivers they needed, and apparently the development drivers too. 

It seemed like every door for every team was closed at the moment.

Hauling yourself off the floor, you peeled your racing suit off, leaving the champagne soaked material to hang at your hips. 

Walking over to the small desk in the corner, you grabbed your headphones. Connecting them to your phone, the familiar voice of Noah Kahan filled the void. 

You were there for a little more than an hour before someone came looking for you. Not surprised, you let Arthur into your own little paradise. Someplace where the reporters and cameras could not get to you. 

He sat down on your bed while you sat down on the floor. 

He inhaled sharply before speaking. 

“I saw the interview.” 

Your head bowed in defeat. “Yeah.” 

“You know, it’s not true what they’re saying. You deserve a seat and you know this.” 

You nodded. “Well, they don’t seem to think so. What is it going to take Thur? I've already exhausted my options. There's nothing here for me. I don’t think I’ll ever be promoted. I’m not…” you trailed off, not knowing what to say. 

Arthur quickly shakes his head before sliding down to join you on the floor. He places both hands on either side of you head and maneuvers you to look at him. 

“Listen to me,” he tells you, accent a little heavier, “you are one of the best drivers of our age. You cannot go bashing yourself when a reporter thinks it good to get a rouse out of you.” 

“Well, I’m no Max Verstappen…or your brother.” 

“And you don’t have to be. All you need to do is be Y/n L/n.” 

He smiled. You only nodded again, soaking in his words. 

After a small bit of silence, you spoke up in a wishful voice, “If you were to sign with any F1 team, which one would it be?” 

He thought for a moment, “I think the answer for me better be Ferrari, to be with my brother. But with their shit season so far, I don’t think I’d want to drive that tractor.” 

You wheezed and held him tight as the giggles shook your body. Arthur could help but join in. After you both calmed down, your breaths were only heard. 

“What about you?” he turns his head, wishful asking. 

“With my luck, I’d also have to drive a tractor,” you cracked a smile. 

“Then we’d be driving tractors together. But I’m serious, which one?” 

You hummed, before silencing. Thoughts scrambling to come up with an answer. Sure, you had dreams. Dreams of papaya, green, teal and black, white and navy, burgundy. But never red as Arthur wishes. 

You finally answer, “I’d take the Bull. Drive a little illegal rocket ship.” 

Arthur huffed. “Are we destined to be rivals Miss L/n? I don’t think the racing world could handle another Leclerc-Verstappen rivalry.” 

“Oh be quiet. I’m not on his level. And besides, if something were to happen, it would be nothing but an inchident…on the race.” 

Now it was Arthur’s turn to sputter and laugh. You decided to disconnect your headphones and let the music fill the small room. 

Placing your head on Arthur’s shoulder, you both let out sighs. 

Wishful thinking, that’s all it was.  

[unclewaynemunson]

Pt2 of the badly kept secrets of Eddie's heart monitor

After the first two weeks, Steve seems to have suddenly decided to stop visiting Eddie. No explanation, no goodbye: one day he's there, and then he... Isn't. It takes a few days, sometimes, Steve has a life of his own after all, but a whole week goes by with nothing. And another one. Eddie only knows he's alive – and in town – because the others told him when he asked. Maybe Steve's gotten tired of being surrounded by all that hospital sterility. Or maybe he's gotten tired of being around Eddie. Or maybe... Eddie groans and takes up a stare-down with the fucking heart monitor that's still attached to him at all times, his biggest enemy.

Unfortunately, he has way too much time on his hands, alone in this room and unable to do anything but lie in bed and stare at the ceiling. It makes it far too easy to let his thoughts spiral. Maybe – no, probably, certainly, undoubtedly – that goddamn heart monitor was the ideal help for Steve to decipher Eddie's biggest secret without any difficulties.

Yes, that must be the reason why Steve is staying away. Sure, the guy could tolerate being around “the freak” for a few hours a week out of pity, but of course he wouldn't want anything to do with him anymore upon finding out exactly what kind of freaky thoughts he really has about Steve. Steve was polite enough to pretend like he didn't notice the heart monitor speeding up every single time he got in Eddie's proximity, but of course, of course he noticed. He noticed and now he hates Eddie.

And honestly? He has every right to hate Eddie, with the way Eddie has been exploiting every opportunity to get Steve to touch him. Even though he'd regret it right away whenever the heart monitor couldn't shut the fuck up, Eddie never learned from his mistakes. He was even stupid enough to find meaning in the way Steve's touch would linger after helping him lie down or sit up, stupid enough to find tenderness in the way Steve held his arms when helping him out of his bed and to the bathroom. Obviously, Steve never wanted any of that. Obviously, that only made Steve uncomfortable, but the poor guy was too polite to lash out to the dude chained to a hospital bed healing from having all his organs chewed inside out.

Eddie sighs and closes his eyes; not because he wants to sleep, but because the staring contest with the heart monitor isn't really getting him anywhere. Maybe it's for the best that Steve is staying away. That way, Eddie might be able to get over him more easily. He doesn't deserve Steve's friendship anyway.

***

“I wanna visit Eddie today.”

“Alright, have fun,” Steve answers. “Tell him I said hi.”

Robin sighs dramatically. “No, dingus, you're coming with me. I need a ride.”

“No!” It comes out of his mouth a little too quick, a little too loud, and Robin raises her eyebrows at him.

“No, I can't,” he explains in a calmer voice.

Robin raises her eyebrows even further, making them disappear beneath her bangs altogether. “You literally just told me you don't have plans after work.”

“Yeah, but...” He lets his voice fade out and settles on muttering something incomprehensible.

“I did not understand one single word of what you were saying,” Robin points out. She sounds annoyed, but there's a vaguely amused smile playing around her lips, betraying how she really feels about the whole thing. “Seriously, what's up with you and Eddie? Did you have a fight or something?”

“No...”

“Until two weeks ago, you were at the hospital basically every spare minute of your time. You even canceled two dates just so you could spend more time with Eddie! And now, all of a sudden, you'd rather spend your evening on your own at home watching TV than visit your friend?”

“He's not my friend,” Steve protests.

She gives him a punch against his shoulder.

“Okay, I'm pretty sure he hates me, Rob.” Steve finally caves in. “He gets, like, very uncomfortable whenever I'm around. And I don't wanna add to his discomfort any more than necessary, so it's better I stay away from him.”

“Well, I don't know what on earth gave you that idea, but that is by far the biggest load of bullcrap I heard all week,” Robin says matter-of-factly. “He's asked about you every single time I visited him. He'll be happy to see you, dingus, you're coming with me today. No excuses.”

***

Like clockwork, the steady beeping of the heart monitor falters as soon as Eddie locks eyes with Steve. To make things even worse, what little color that is on Eddie's cheeks leaves his face immediately.

Despite the paleness of Eddie's face, Steve can't help but notice how good he looks in comparison to when he last saw him two weeks ago. He's sitting straight up, leaning against a pillow, and the look in his eyes is far from drowsy.

“S-Steve,” Eddie stutters out. “Hi.” He clears his throat. “And – and Robin, of course, hi! Good to see ya, Buck.” He stretches out his arms to embrace her, and Steve awkwardly comes up behind her. It feels weird not to follow Robin's example and give him a hug, but when he bows over the bed and wraps his arms around Eddie, the beeping immediately picks up speed again. To make things even worse, Eddie quite literally recoils from his touch, leaning away as far as possible and letting his arms hover in the air around Steve more than actually hugging him back.

When Steve looks at Robin, he notices that her eyes have grown about twice their normal size while they flash back and forth between Eddie, the machines around his bed, and Steve.

He locks eyes with her and tries to silently convey a See, I told you so about Eddie resenting him. She answers with a barely visible nod and relief fills Steve's chest. He's lucky to have Robin right by his side, his best friend, the one person he can always count on understanding him. She'll get them out of here in no time and leave Eddie in peace and –

“Oh shoot, sorry, I forgot I need to get a, um, a thing from the car,” Robin says. “I'll be right back.”

As she stumbles out of the room, Steve wants to scream at her that that was very much the opposite of what he wanted her to do, but she disappears before he can do anything about it, only leaving an awkward silence in her wake. So Steve has no choice but to turn back to Eddie and take his familiar place in the chair beside his bed.

“I kinda didn't expect to see you anymore.” Eddie is the one to break the silence. He sounds more distant than the last time Steve saw him. It must be worse than Steve thought: Eddie had been happy to be rid of him and now here he is again, after a meager two weeks of peace.

“Sorry,” Steve mumbles. “She insisted I come with her.”

“So you didn't wanna come?”

Steve chuckles darkly at the irony in that question, not really knowing how to answer that.

“Alright, I'm just gonna say it,” says Eddie when it becomes clear that Steve doesn't quite know what to say. “You figured out what I – how I felt about you, didn't you? Cause of the heart thing.”

Steve looks away, stares intently at the ugly dark blue linoleum carpet under his feet.

“Yeah,” he quietly confesses. There's no use denying it now, he figures.

Eddie heaves out a long sigh.

“For what it's worth: I'm really sorry, Steve, I didn't mean to make you-”

“It's fine,” Steve quickly interrupts him. He doesn't think he could bear Eddie's pity right now. “Don't worry about it. I just wanted to give you some space, y'know, get outta your hair for a bit. I didn't want to make this any more painful for you than it has to be.”

“Really?”

The heart monitor stutters again and Eddie's voice sounds weirdly strained. Steve can't help but look up. He's met with big brown eyes that are looking at him like Eddie actually cares about him. For a moment, Steve imagines to see tears, but then Eddie blinks and the illusion is gone.

“I um... I appreciate that, man,” Eddie says.

Another awkward silence dawns over the room.

“Wait,” Eddie says after a few seconds. “So you're not angry?”

“No!” Steve immediately replies – and it's true. He understands why Eddie doesn't like being around him, that too much has happened in the past for them to just move on and hold hands or some shit.

“It's not your fault,” he tells Eddie. He looks away again, back to the floor in front of his sneakers. “If it's anyone's fault, it's mine, right?”

Eddie huffs out a sound of disbelief. “Why, cause you're just too damn sexy, Harrington?”

Steve frowns. “Well, no, cause I was an asshole and I was mean to your friends during all of high school and it's stupid of me to expect you to just get over that shit and-”

“What the fuck does that have to do with anything?”

There's that stutter in the heart monitor again. It makes Steve wonder if he's putting Eddie's health at risk by simply existing next to him. Maybe it would be better to leave Eddie alone and wait in the car until Robin is done with her visit. What the hell is taking her so long anyway?

He keeps his eyes stubbornly focused on the blue floor. “Isn't that why you got so uncomfortable having me around?” he points out. “Look, I get it, man. I was an asshole, it's true. And it was selfish of me to keep showing up here only because you were too polite to say to my face what you thought about me. I was only thinking about myself and about how much I liked being here with you, it wasn't fair.”

All of a sudden, the soft touch of a hand lands on his shoulder. He hates how that makes his own heart speed up. If he were the one attached to a heart monitor, Eddie would've seen right through him in an instant, that's for sure.

He looks up and meets Eddie's wide-eyed, somewhat shocked face.

“You - you thought you were making me uncomfortable?” Eddie asks him, sounding like he's completely gobsmacked.

Steve frowns. “Isn't that what we've been talking about for the past five minutes?”

“Steve,” Eddie says. “I am so sorry. I didn't – I never – Look. Listen.” He removes his hand from Steve's shoulder and roughly wipes it over his face. His heart monitor accelerates even further. “Please don't hate me for what I'm about to tell you, okay?” He doesn't wait for a reaction, only uses his pause to take a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment before opening them again and looking right into Steve's.

“I'm gay, Steve. And that evil computer over there-” He points towards the heart monitor, “-keeps betraying my big, fat, gay crush on you. Every time you walk in here, or read my book to me, or do so much as smile at me, I just – God, I'm such a goner for you and there was no hiding it because of that stupid fucking thing.”

This time, Steve is quite sure he is not at all imagining the tears in Eddie's eyes.

“I thought that's why you stopped visiting. Cause you figured out how gay I am – about you – and you didn't want anything to do with that. With me. Being gay. For you.”

Eddie swallows. He lifts a hand and pulls a strand of hair over his face in a poor attempt to hide the truly terrified expression that's all over his features.

“Jesus, Eddie,” Steve breathes out. He can't even begin to comprehend how spectacularly wrong he has been about everything. It's almost like he's in shock. Only a minute ago, he thought Eddie despised him. And now, he has to process the revelation that the guy in fact has had a crush on him – a “big, fat, gay crush” – all along. That the reason his heart was behaving so weirdly was because Steve's proximity made him lovesick. That he recoiled from Steve's touches out of fear that the monitor would give him away and make Steve realize he was gay and in love with him.

“Please say something?” It sounds like a question, small and so afraid of what is about to come.

“Eddie, I – Jesus. This is... A lot. To process,” Steve manages to choke out.

“I know,” Eddie says. “I'm sorry I made you think I hated you. But... Please don't hate me. I really missed you visiting. We can be friends, right? You won't even have to touch me ever again, we can just hang out like bros, and I'll try to get my feelings for you under control, and you can-”

Steve finally gains control over his body again: he leaps forward and presses his lips against Eddie's with slightly more force than he had meant to do.

A surprised yelp escapes from Eddie's mouth, and the beeping of the heart monitor goes even crazier. It makes Steve's own heart do a goddamn cartwheel, that audible proof of what he is making Eddie feel.

He completely understands why the heart monitor is going batshit crazy right now; everything about this is fucking amazing. One of his hands finds its way to Eddie's surprisingly soft hair, and he revels in the feeling of touching Eddie again and in the taste of Eddie's lips against his own, and maybe he should just climb into Eddie's bed to–

“Thank God for that.”

They quickly jump apart to find Robin standing in the doorway, an annoyingly smug grin on her face.

“You two could really not be more stupid if you tried, huh?”

Steve squints at her while his hand blindly finds Eddie's on top of the sheets and curls itself around it. He feels his cheeks heat up, but he doesn't care. Nothing matters anymore, except for Eddie's hand warmly resting in his own.

“Did you even need anything from the car at all?” he asks Robin, raising an eyebrow at her.

“No, of course not,” Robin scoffs. “Just needed you idiots to finally get your shit together. I don't think I've ever met anyone more dense than the two of you, seriously! There were at least three moments when I almost barged in here to just smash your faces tog-”

“You were eavesdropping on us?!”

“Obviously.”

Steve opens his mouth, indignant and ready to tell her exactly how mean and evil she is, but she merely raises a hand and the look in her eyes is terrifying enough to shut him up before he has even started speaking.

“Hey, listen,” she says. Something in her face softens. “I'm really happy for you guys. Seriously, no matter how stupid you are, you two deserve every bit of happiness in the world.” She takes a step backwards towards the door. “I'll go wait in the car, dingus. Go kiss each other some more.”

And before Steve or Eddie can say anything, she winks and closes the door behind her.

Taglist: @estrellami-1 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @saramelaniemoon @lololol-1234 @carlajim98 @7-starboi @acedorerryn @hallucinatedjosten @goodolefashionedloverboi @zoeweee @resident-gay-bitch @my2amgaythoughts @didntwant2come @steveshairspray @noodle-shenaniganery @thedragonsaunt @finntheehumaneater @queerriotgrrrl @co5m0 @dino-nuggets-posts

[m0nsterqzzz]

word count: 3k

- Liar Liar - 

Wanda Maximoff x reader

summary - in which, you stumble upon the most beautiful woman you've ever seen while in search of a job you can put your piano skills to use at. The only thing? She's a teacher who thinks you're in search of lessons. All's far in love and music right?

a/n - wanda + music = me fucking dying. lol. haven't updated in a while that's my bad. i love you guuuuyyyyyysss.

⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ

You hadn’t meant to lie.

You’d went into the slightly shady neighborhood in search of a job, preferably one that let you play piano- your passion- and still had a decent amount of pay so you would be able to afford that apartment you got recently.

It’s a small town though, and no one really has any need for music as they own record players and other forms of listening devices. No one cares about classical music anymore.

Maybe you should have listened when your father told you music would never be a good career.

So you gave up hope, walking downtown to the store to get a simple and cheap frozen dinner that you could watch while sulking in front of the tv. Being an adult is hard, and you often find yourself wondering what you would do if you had just been given one chance to go back in time and not rush growing up.

You heard the familiar and peaceful sound of piano, and just like anytime you hear it, you freeze in the middle of the sidewalk to simply listen. There’s a small store next to all the tall and beautiful ones, one that probably gets lost a lot in the sight of all the other, more important buildings. A young woman is sitting inside near the front, visible through the big glass window that you silently watch her through. Her skilled fingers dance across the keyboard, creating an aura in the world that has you stuck in a magical trance.

The song slowly goes quieter, and you watch her take a deep sigh before turning her head to look out the window- as if knowing you were there. You panic, blushing in embarrassment before you pretend to read the signs taped to the door.

A bright smile graces your face as you actually begin to read them. A few of them just talk about upcoming concerts in town square, but one big one smack dab in the middle catches your eye;

Hiring!

Tutors, managers, cleaners

$16.45 a hour

It’s not a lot of money, but it’s enough and you’d get to do what you love while seemingly getting to hang out with a pretty girl. It’s a win, win, win. For you.

“Sorry. That sign is old. My friend was supposed to take it down.” Someone quietly speaks beside you, and you almost jump in fear when you see that the woman you had previously been looking at through the window is now standing right next to you, staring blankly before she tears the sign off the door. She’s even more pretty in person, from her long auburn hair to her piercing greens eyes that most people would fear as she stares at you silently though all you feel is nervous and giddy.

“Right…well….do you still have any openings?” You ask, placing your hands in your pockets as you rock back and forth on your heels. She watches with curious eyes, crossing her arms over her chest.

She answers quietly, a stark contrast to your happy mood, though she doesn't exactly seem upset. More like calm. “Yes. Lessons are 10 dollars for an hour and a half.”

You frown in confusion. Does she think you’re looking for a teacher? You go to tell her you’re looking to be a teacher, but your eyes fall on the little picture on the door that has a photo of her next to a few others of other people. Under her’s is the title; “owner and teacher”

“Would you be my teacher?” The words fall out of your mouth before you can stop them, so you purse your lips to stop yourself from saying anything else.

The girl’s lips turn upwards in the beginning of a smile. “Yes. I would.”

You practically grin, and it’s like you don’t even remember the several years of college you went through to get a career in music as you say, “Then I’d like to take lessons from you. I like piano. I want to learn how to play.”

She does smile now, nodding as she opens the door which makes the bell above it ring. “That’s great. Follow me and we’ll get you signed up.” You do follow her inside, taking in the beauty of the hidden shop. There are pianos and other instruments everywhere, ones that look worn out yet still pretty. Open songbook’s litter every open space and she gets to the front desk before digging through a pile of them for the forms you need to sign.

After signing way to many forms and paying a small fee, you shake her hand with the one that isn’t cramping.

“Thank you for choosing Scarlett's Melodies. I’m Wanda Maximoff. I own the shop and tutor most of the students.” You smile, squeezing her hand before you awkwardly place your hand in your pocket and introduce yourself.

Wanda. A pretty name for a pretty girl.

You obviously don’t say that though. Anxiety exists yall.

Instead you leave with a new found pep in your step.

That is until you remember that you just spent a ton of money and don’t even have a job. Wow. What the fuck is Wanda Maximoff doing to you?

— – — – — – — – —

After that, you have to get a job, so you get one at the nice restaurant in town that your friend works at. You spend most of your day serving customers, taking orders, and cleaning, and the only reason you continue to do it is that every other day, you just have to think about the fact that once work is over, you get to go see the beautiful piano teacher.

It’s not hard to play down your skill, but it is a little bit funny every time you slip up and tell her you already know something and then have to make the excuse that you’re doing some studying on your own time as well.

Wanda has a sweet personality, though she is a bit cold and standoffish sometimes. You learn a lot about her over the past few weeks though, like her late brother Pietro, her friends Natasha and Clint who are also workers at the store, and how she came to love music so much as to start up her own store for it.

“You’re late.” She says when you run in six minutes past the time you’re supposed to be there, but her tone is light and teasing as she scans through some notes on her sheet music. She lets you take them home sometimes to study them, but you mostly just study her pretty handwriting and the little doodles she leaves for you to find.

You chuckle, taking off your coat and hanging it up next to her leather jacket near the door. The place is cozy and if not for the workers constantly running in and out, you’d say it feels more like a home than a store.

“Sorry. I was at work.” She nods as you speak, handing you a book she made more notes in before pointing over to a piano set up against a wall. It’s nicely toned and made of a beautiful wood, and once she learned it was probably your favorite, she “teaches” you at that one every single lesson.

You sit on the bench, trying your hardest not to blush when she rubs her hand on your back before sitting closely next to you. It’s one of your favorite parts of the lessons- when she sits close enough that you can smell her perfume. Vanilla with a hint of sage, and it’s quickly become one of your favorite scents.

“We’re gonna work on something a bit harder today alright? I think you can do it, but the notes are in a slightly weird pattern and may be hard to remember.” Wanda says, flipping to a page in the book before setting it up on the music rack. 

It’s one of your favorites and quite easy to play after years of practicing, but you don’t tell her that.

By the end of the almost two hour lesson, you have pretended to learn the first part of the song, purposefully messing it up every once in a while so you don’t expose yourself.

You’re starting to feel a bit guilty about the lying, but then she smiles proudly and showers you in compliments and you forget all about it.

Wanda walks you to the door, leaning on the wall as you put on your coat and grab your stuff. You’re tired, but that feeling doesn’t even begin to compare to the one that comes when she holds your hand and smiles towards you.

“There’s a small event in town this weekend.” She starts, pointing towards the sign up on her big bulletin board. “A few people playing pieces, some nice food. I think you should join. You’re one of my most advanced students.”

You grin, hesitantly nodding. “I’d love to. That sounds like so much fun.”

The redhead nods as well, smiling slightly as she writes your name down on the sign up sheet. You’ll play after a few other students and teachers, and you must tell her what piece you want to play by tomorrow so you can spend the next few lessons practicing it.

With that you say your goodbyes, lingering in a hug with the Maximoff girl before you finally leave, walking home with a love sick smile on your face. Little did you know, the same one is gracing Wanda’s face as she closes up the shop and makes her way home.

— – — – — – — – —

When the day of the concert comes around, you’re nervous.

You don’t know why. You could play this piece in your sleep, but for some reason, the same nerves that were with you during your first performance as a child are now fluttering around in your stomach as you sit on a piano bench in the town square.

Wanda is talking with some of the other students, and you try and distract yourself by looking at her with adoration in your eyes, but it all comes back at a higher level when she notices you and winks your way.

She’s so pretty, and you fight the urge to slam your head on the instrument as she finishes up her conversation and begins walking towards you.

“Hey hon. How you feeling?” Wanda stands behind you, rubbing your shoulders reassuringly as she reads over the notes on your sheet music. You shrug, blushing brightly at her touch as you pretend to be focusing on smoothing out your shirt of non-existent wrinkles.

“I’m okay. Kinda nervous.” You say, and the blush only deepens when she hums in understanding and places a kiss on the top of your head.

“Don’t be. You’re going to be great.” Her words make you grin, and you lean your head back to rest on her stomach as she gently runs her fingers through your hair. Someone calls her name, so she gently caresses your face before patting your back and walking away.

Oh the things that Wanda Maximoff does to you.

While you’re waiting for your turn on stage, you get bored, so you sit back on the bench and begin to quickly play through one of the hardest songs you know. It took forever to learn and you still mess up every once and a while, but it still would sound beautiful to anyone and by the end of it, you do hear someone slightly chuckle in shock.

It isn't a happy laugh or happy shock though. That much you can tell.

“I didn’t teach you that.” A slightly bitter tone speaks, and you slowly turn around to come face to face with Wanda, fists clenched at her sides and a curious but slightly annoyed expression on her face.

You want to continue to lie, to tell her you’ve been working hard and her lessons are paying off, but no one who’s only been playing for a few months would be able to play that and she obviously knows the truth now.

“You wasted my time.” She says coldly, crossing her arms over her chest. She’s no longer the bubbly girl you’ve come to have the pleasure of knowing, instead going back to the closed off woman you first met. It’s all your fault.

You look down in shame, letting the bouquet rest by your side. “I’m so sorry Wanda.”

Wanda scoffs, glaring at you before she storms out of the room. She’s pissed, but a warm feeling settles in her chest at the knowledge you went through all of this to hang out with her, even with the thought that you don’t have a chance with her. You still wasted her time though, and you lied to her for weeks, almost months. How can she trust that you truly aren’t just some psycho?

You stay in the middle of town square, tears forming in your eyes as more and more people gather to listen to the other pianists. You’re falling in love with Wanda Maximoff, and up until this point, it’s only ever been clear and sunny skies. What are you supposed to do now that your first cloud has appeared?

— – — – — – — – —

After that, you stop going to your lessons.

Wanda finds herself missing you every time 6 o’clock comes around and you don’t come sprinting into the shop with your work uniform still on, rambling about something a stupid customer did like you’ve known Wanda forever. It feels like that, that’s for sure.

You spend every day in an endless cycle. Get up, go to work, walk the long way so you don’t risk running into Wanda outside of her music store, work a nine hour shift, and return to your quiet apartment where you sit in silence and mourn for someone that still lives. 

Maybe you should adopt a dog.

One especially rough day, you wake up late, your alarm clock having turned off during a storm last night and reset itself all while you were asleep. Because of this, you wake up with five minutes to get ready and even less time to sprint to work, so you can’t take the long way like you usually do.

It’s lightly sprinkinly outside, so you don’t bother taking a jacket in the midst of chaos. That was clearly the wrong decision, as only a few minutes into your walk there, it starts absolutely pouring, and just like that, your uniform is soaked and you’re shivering. You don’t have any time to go back though, so you fight on, staying right next to the buildings for a bit of protection and you don’t even notice the person carefully watching you as you fastly walk down the sidewalk.

“Hey!” Someone calls out, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into a familiar building. It’s calm and quiet music is playing somewhere, but all you can focus on is that Wanda is standing in front of you, holding out a dry towel for you to grab.

You hesitate, grabbing it and holding it closely around your body in hopes of stopping the cold feeling in your bones. It’s much warmer in here and the only rain is tapping against the window from outside, but Wanda is here and she looks at you with a type of distaste you’ve never seen before.

“I need to get to work. I’m late.” You mumble eventually after a few minutes of silence, but she just puts her hands on your shoulders and rubs them to bring you more warmth as she replies calmly, “No. I don’t want you to catch a cold.”

You go to argue, but she simply shakes her head and sits down at your piano on the other end of the room. She begins to play a simple but calm song, and she watches in the corner of her eye as you sink down on the couch next to the fireplace and slowly close your eyes. You’re still awake though, that much she can tell by the way your fingers tap along to the pattern of the music.

Finally she slowly stops the song, letting her hands fall to rest on her thighs as she stares at the keyboard with her eyebrows furrowed.

“Why would you lie to me?”

You open your eyes, watching with a guilty but sincere look as she chews on her lower lip and gently presses a few of the keys. “I’m truly sorry Wanda. I figured if we spent that time together, I would be able to learn more about you…in hopes of eventually asking you out. It was stupid, and wrong, and I’m sorry.”

She sighs, closing the keyboard cover and turning to face you. “If you had asked, I would have said yes.”

Your eyes widen in shock. Is she messing with you?

Wanda continues, “If you had just told me all of that when we first met, we could have gone out and gotten dinner or- or lunch or on a picnic like normal people.” You nod along, silently fidgeting with the bottom of your shirt. “So go ahead.”

You’re silent for a second, looking around as if wondering if she’s talking to you to which she giggles and nods. That laugh could fix all your issues.

“Wanda Maximoff, I’d really like to get to know you. The right way this time. Will you go out with me?” You ask nervously after clearing your throat and sitting up in your seat.

Wanda smirks, rubbing her chin as if in deep thought. “I don’t know…”

You laugh a bit when she does, though you’re too busy smiling brightly as she nods. “I’d love to go out with you. No lying to me this time though. And you have to teach me that song you were playing at the recital.”

“No way. A magician never reveals their secrets.” You tease, sitting next to her on the bench as she laces your hands together and says with her own smile, “Oh really? So I just agreed to a date for nothing? You’re mean.”

 All is fair in love and music though.

⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ

[mrchiipchrome]

Work

W.C. - 1.2 k

a/n: I’ve been having so much fun dealing with migraines, a break up, exams and getting an eye infection that I’ve totally forgot to write, so take this as a sort of apology:)

———————

It wasn’t hard to be the best footballer in the world’s girlfriend. All things considered, life with Aitana was pretty good, amazing even, if it weren’t for Aitana’s incessant need to ask people if they were employed.

It started small, when Aitana first met your family in Sweden, she had asked your brother whether he worked or not, happy when he started raving about his work, happy to find someone as passionate about their work as her.

Since that interaction it seemed like she searched that passion out in every interaction she had, going as far as to climb over rows of seats in order to speak to people.

She was nothing short of a social butterfly, and you were her anti-social caterpillar. The Swede in you was drawn to the Spanish affectionate nature even if it was vastly different from your own.

Your tiny girlfriend was as much of a magician on the pitch as she was off it, her ability to simply vanish the second you took your eyes off her was quite impressive, but not very enjoyable on your part. You almost had to invest in a private investigator to figure out how she did it, the way she always fooled you simply driving you crazy to the point of oblivion.

Still, you loved her strange habits simply for the fortune of having her, having her in every way imaginable.

You loved getting to hold her even as she squirmed to get away, kisses raining down on her face after a long game, using your substantially taller frame to put some space between her feet and the ground so that she wouldn’t be able to get away.

———————

Your muscles ache as your feet thump against the ground, the last game before a small break one of great performances, you yourself slipping 4 goals past the keeper, all of them assisted by your wonderful girlfriend.

Still, despite your obviously tired appearance, you were still ushered away to the corner of the pitch for an interview, being handed a man of the match award for your efforts during the game. This meant that your girlfriend was left unsupervised, your tired mind mixed with needing to seem professional before the camera completely taking up all your attention, meaning you didn’t immediately notice your girlfriend beelining for the stands.

“So, how does it feel to be back in the squad after the hamstring injury?” The reporter looks at you intently, trying her hardest to stare into your soul, or that’s at least what it seems like.

“Yeah, I mean it’s always special to be part of this squad, I’m not even going to lie and say that it’s been easy sitting on the bench when all I wanted was to jump on the field and score again but ultimately I got through it. I’m really happy with the performance as well, my beautiful girlfriend assisted all my goals so that makes it even better.” You smile widely when you mention your girlfriend, seeing through half-lidded eyes as the reporter's smile drops before she plasters it back on.

‘No need to be unprofessional now’ you think to yourself, looking away from her in search of that girlfriend to see if she could save you from the creepy situation.

But in your attempt to catch your girlfriend’s attention, you see her about to climb over the railings to talk to fans. You know that it’s dangerous, not only because of the altitude, but also because you never knew the intentions of some fans.

Somewhere in the background you can hear the reporter speaking to you, but you don’t pay her any mind, simply getting more anxious the longer you are standing there.

“It has to be special to be back with your teammates-”

“Perdón!” Is all you’re able to get out before you take off in Aitana’s direction, your legs no longer aching thankfully enough.

Your hands latch around her hips, tugging her softly away from the railing like you would a cat that had burrowed its claws into the couch. Aitana yelps as she looks back at you suspiciously, her hands coming down to rest on your shoulders when she realized that she didn’t have any plan of escape, seemingly just accepting her fate.

There are multiple cameras pointed at you, including the social media manager’s, so you just know that the interaction would find itself on the internet by the time you would be sitting in the bus.

Strangely enough, you didn’t mind that fact all that much, liking that the world would see how much you loved your girlfriend, maybe it would discourage reporters from trying to shoot their shot with you.

“Hey there pretty lady, whatchu’ doin’?” Aitana smiles at you innocently, acting like she totally didn’t try to climb over the railings. She presses a quick kiss to your cold cheek, enjoying the way your face darkens a few shades, the red spreading up your cheeks like food coloring in water.

It leads her to continue, kisses soon being placed on every single space on your face, with you soon blending in with the tomatoes you were growing in your garden.

“You are very cute.” She whispers lowly, her eyes flitting over your face as she smiles, keeping the words between the two of you like it was a secret only meant for your ears. Perhaps it was, you never knew with Aitana.

“And you are trying to distract me from the fact that you were totally trying to climb up into the stands. You’re lucky to be adorable, because Jona is one more abandoned interview away from benching me.” You boop her nose, shifting her body around so that your left arm was the only thing holding her body up, her arms still around your shoulders.

Walking back towards the interviewer, her professional smile drops from her face the second she sees Aitana perched on your arm, but nonetheless you approach her civilly. Aitana smiles brightly at the camera soon pointed at her again, media training mixed with the attention she’s getting from you being the perfect situation for the camera.

“Hola, lo siento, this one was getting herself into trouble. Had to get her out, don’t want the gaffer to bench the superstar now do we?” You motion towards Aitana with your head, the girl still sitting perched atop your arm slapping the back of your head lightly. Switching her around again, you quickly put her down back on her own feet, Aitana’s arms coming down to wrap around your waist tightly, almost possessive in a way.

“Thank you for today, that was all we needed. Here’s your man of the match trophy.” You get handed the trophy, turning to your girlfriend to brag, only to find her gone once more, her small body shooting across the pitch to get as much space between you two as she could.

It was almost as if you could see into the future as she jumps up and throws herself over the railings, giggling madly along the way.

You start to laugh too, the high speed chase the biggest highlight of the day, because not even scoring 4 goals could overshadow spending even a second laughing with your girl.

And even though Mapi would be teasing you for weeks about the absolute lovesick actions that day, you wouldn’t have it any different, besides you had more than enough ammunition to be able to blackmail her for eternity, so it didn’t really matter anyways.

[yanderenightmare]

JJK ! IMAGINE

Okkotsu Yuta x darling

TW: yandere

He’s silent for the most part – pensive and gentle with you – barely touching you aside from mellow strokes lacking a lasting feel and featherlight kisses that only barely leave your skin wet. 

Everything seems somewhat virginal. Awkward. At a distance…

But you know he watches you when you sleep – and it gives you goosebumps every night. 

He’ll sit in the chair by the window instead of lying next to you, his dour gaze lingering on you and your shape draped in the thin duvet. He’ll listen to your soft snores, and watch you dream – thinking about what he wouldn’t do to keep you like that, safe and sound and perfect – coming up short. 

There’s so much ugliness in the world… he needs to keep you from it.

“Yuta…” You croaked groggily, waking up and squinting at him where he still sat in the dim moonlight. “You’re freakin’ me out…” Twisting in the sheets, you pull them aside to free space on the bed before yawning. “Come to bed already.” 

He sits for another moment and you think he’s gonna stay there like every other night, keeping guard or whatever it is that he’s doing – but then he stands. Taking your invitation silently, lying down on his side of the bed, making the mattress sink – and it’s only then that you regret it, feeling your heart flare with dread, reminded of how he’s a psycho who’s had you trapped in his house for months without telling you why. 

You lie awake in wait of his touch – but it never comes. 

Snores come first.

You roll over again, looking at him – disheveled strands of dark hair splayed on the pillow, tired circles beneath heavy eyes – his face serious even in his sleep. It was strange… he didn’t look like a man capable of hurting anyone. But though he’s never hurt you, aside from keeping you here against your will, you know he’s very capable of violence. You’ve seen the bruises he dregs home, but more than that, you’ve seen the blood drenching his white clothes when he comes home bruise-free.

He doesn’t sit in the chair at all the night after. He comes straight to bed alongside you. And you suppose him lying there doesn’t make much difference for you so long he keeps his hands to himself – which he does until you fall asleep.

It’s sometime later in the night when you awake to the feeling of him brushing cold fingers over the exposed skin of your shoulder, down your upper arm, and further upon your hip.

Your breaths stick in your lungs as he shuffles closer, soon pressed flush against your back – his lips at the shell of your ear. 

He wraps his arm around your midriff and presses himself harder into you, and it’s only then that you realize he’s crying. Stirring against you in suppressed sobs as he buries his face into your hair.

You cringe. Listening to him sniffle as he holds your body snug. Opening your mouth and closing it again, you suck your lip in hesitation before calling his name. “Yuta?”

“I’m sorry for waking you-” He apologizes – and you wonder if you should just stay quiet, maybe he’d settle down and return to his side of the bed soon. But it seemed a little unlikely.

“Why are you crying?” You ask instead. 

“I’m scared…” He says, placing his forehead against the nape of your neck, both arms locked over your stomach and tugging you close for comfort.

You tense at his warmth – never having been so close to him before. Swallowing thickly. “Scared of what?”

His breath shivers against your back where he has his head bowed as his fingers dig into your sides enough to make you release a tiny whimper. “Scared that I won’t be able to protect you.”

You shiver a bit now, scared to move. You’re voice weak. “Protect me from what?”

He lifts his head and places a kiss on your shoulder. Nuzzling against the grove of your neck. “You shouldn’t worry about it.” He dismisses, gently, in a whisper, in that lilt he so often uses with you as though he fears anything louder would rattle you. “It’s my burden.” 

He shifts and scoots himself perfectly behind you, holding you snugly in strong arms.

“Sleep, I’ll keep you safe.”

[woso-dreamzzz]

Help

Hardersson x Teen!Reader

Summary: You're struggling a bit

*TW for eating disorder*

You didn't know when exactly it started but you knew it was here to stay.

"You not that hungry?" Millie asks as you sit down next to her for lunch.

Being the youngest member of the team had its perks and this definitely wasn't one of them. Everyone else got to choose where to sit for lunch while your older teammates made you sit with them.

You shrug. "Upset tummy."

It's not exactly a lie. Your stomach churned at the idea of having to eat a big meal (having to eat at all, actually) and it was uncomfortable. But it was uncomfortable not eating as well. You had hunger pangs almost every moment of your waking life.

Eat or not eat.

Pain or pain.

"Are you sick?" Millie asks, brow furrowed as she looks at you," You look a bit sickly."

You knew what she was talking about. You used to be able to control your eating well but you had spiralled recently. You felt ill even looking at the buffet earlier and you refused to even contemplate putting more than one thing on your plate.

It had been like this for weeks now and you knew everyone could see it.

Your skin had taken on a waxy pallor. Your nails had gone brittle and your hair was thinning at an alarming rate.

You hope that everyone just thinks you're sick. You push your food around with your fork before cutting it up into smaller pieces. You had a handle on this. You would get a handle on this.

"Bad night's sleep," You offer to Millie and she takes the bait, nodding like she understood what you were saying.

"Who had a bad night's sleep?" Your captain slid into the seat on your other side, with Pernille taking the seat on her right.

"y/n," Millie says," It's why she looks ill."

"You've been having a lot of those," Magda says, eyes narrowed as she watches you.

You try to be casual but with her and Pernille's eyes on you, you feel like you're under the microscope. You take a small bite of your food, trying not to wince when it tastes of nothing but ashes. You reach for your drink.

"It happens," You say diplomatically. You don't want to give anything away.

Magda and Pernille were protective of you anyway. You didn't want them to know this. They barely let you live on your own. You didn't want to be under their gaze all the time.

"Hmm," Magda hums, still looking at you and you load more food onto your fork.

You lift it up like you're about to eat before moving it back down onto your plate again.

"I heard that Emma's planning new drills. Is it true?"

Your question distracts Magda, who huffs and starts eating her own food. Her gaze is torn away from you as she mutters things under her breath.

You don't pick your fork back up.

Your hunger pangs worsen the more time goes on. You'd barely eaten lunch and you hadn't eaten breakfast either. You just tried to fill your stomach with water, leading to a semi-impressive feeling of bloating while also being able to feel it all slosh around in your belly.

Actually, now that you think about it as you run through drills and complete your sprints, you're not too sure when the last time you ate a full meal.

Did energy bars count as full meals?

Because you ate an energy bar during the break between drills.

Either way, it doesn't seem to be working now. Black spots appear in your vision and you have to stop moving so you can stay on your feet. You scratch at your neck, somehow feeling completely dehydrated even though you know that you had drank water not even five minutes ago.

"Hey." You don't even realise Pernille's holding your waist until she speaks. "Are you okay? You're swaying."

Her eyes look worried and you try to nod but it only makes you feel worse, more black spots appearing before you go almost completely limp.

"Okay," Pernille says softly even though she's panicking on the inside," Let's sit down, okay? We're just going to sit down."

But you don't have enough strength to sit down and you've lost consciousness almost the moment you touch the ground.

"Hey!" Pernille calls out," I'm going to need some medics!"

She checks your pulse even though she's got a feeling she already knows what's happened. Magda can be distracted but Pernille can't.

She's noticed your general wariness at lunch, the way you talk more than eat and how you play around with your food. She knows that you're not eating breakfast too just by the way you ate a cereal bar this morning.

You're sixteen so you're not exactly great at cooking either so Pernille's also sure that you're not eating well at home either.

She knew that she should have put her foot down when you moved from Vittsjö to Chelsea. She knew she should have made you move in with her and Magda.

"We need to get her inside," One of the medics say.

You're almost too light in Pernille's arms as she lifts you and carries you inside.

"Is she okay?" Magda runs over to join them.

"She's not been eating." Pernille feels confident in what she thinks. "So, no, Magda, she's not okay." She lays you down on the physio bed, running a hand through her hair in frustration. "I don't care what she says, she's not okay and she's not going home alone."

Magda's a little dense sometimes. "Who's she going home with? Is someone on the way?"

"Us, Magda. She's coming home with us and she'll be lucky if I ever let her out of my sight again. You've still got the spare bedroom made up, right?"

"Exactly as we left it," Magda says.

She looks down at you. You look much younger than your sixteen years as you rest on the bed. You've never passed out before to Magda's knowledge and your skin looks almost translucent as you lay there.

"She'll come around soon," The medic promises," Get her energy levels up and take her home. She needs rest." He glances around. "And I'll set up a meeting with the nutritionist for next week."

"I've got some trail mix in my bag," Magda offers," I'll grab some."

You come around slowly, blinking your eyes and squinting as you adjust to the light.

"Are you going to yell at me?"

"Why?" Pernille says," Have you done something that I need to yell at you for?"

She helps you sit up, jamming a water bottle between your lips so you can rehydrate before Magda dumps a bag of trail mix into your hands.

You hold it there.

"Eat."

"I'm not hungry."

"Eat," Your captain says firmly," We're not leaving until you've eaten at least half."

You have to fight to roll your eyes.

Fine, you'll play their game, nibbling on the nuts and fruit as you think of some topic to distract them both.

Only Magda doesn't let you speak.

"I don't want to hear any arguments," She says," You're staying with me and Pernille now. We've got your room ready and you'll be eating three square meals a day and snacks."

Your stomach drops. Your throat goes dry.

"What?"

Your mind works in overdrive as you try to come up with some way to make Magda change her mind. You end up deciding that the best course of action is pretending that it's all a joke.

"That's funny," You say," Is this a weekend thing or something? Because I have plans that I can't miss."

Magda's face hardens and you decide that looking at Pernille is obviously safer.

(It's not).

She looks equally as angry, if not more so than Magda. Her arms are crossed over her chest as she stares you down.

You're getting the distinct feeling that you're caught in a bear trap.

"You're a good kid," Pernille says finally as she watches you shovel trail mix into your mouth just so you had something to do," And you're so talented. I don't know what's going on but we're here to help you."

"Nothing's going on."

"There is," Pernille says firmly," And that's okay. We're going to help you."

You stand up quickly, too quickly perhaps because you wobble uncertainly on your feet and Magda has to guide you back to a sitting position.

But you still try to salvage your wounded pride.

"I'm fine. I don't need help."

"You do," Magda says," And I'm sorry that we didn't realise sooner."

"I..." Tears spill down your cheeks against your will. "I don't need help."

"We're going to help you anyway."

[roseykat]

TITLE: Play Tight

PAIRINGS: Bang Chan x f!reader

SUMMARY: Reader and Chan divulge their ‘excuse’ as to why they couldn’t make it to hot pot and barbecue dinner with their friends.

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won’t be able to regulate/monitor every potential interaction with those posts so please do not engage with me, my work, or page whatsoever.

TAGS: smut, porn with plot, swearing, multiple orgasms, squirting, overstimulation, unprotected sex, creampies, fwb, some pillow talk (ish)

PART 1 / PART 2 / PART 3

🏷️ LIST: @chillichillicrabcrab23 @broken-glowsticks @ihatemen55 @boi-bi-ahaha @galamxy @weareapackofstrays @anglerfishiey @elizalabs3 @fr34k4c1dr41n @stayconnecteed @imnotjjini0325 @twinklix @meilix @livsposts @dawn-iscozy @princejisung @valibals @oiikaro @im-sinking-in-mud @aalexyuuuhm @baby-yongbok @/leftkittenface @20minsat180degrees @itsthatbri (if you want to be removed or added to the tag list, please lmk!) ⭐️

A/N: if you don't know what a refractory period is it's essentially about the ability of most women to cum back to back or one after the other in a short span of time between one orgasm and the next. Therefore, if it seems as though I've written about reader having multiple orgasms within quick succession, that's because she is and Chan is making the most of it. Also I really pushed the time limit with uploading this part bc I spent the last few hours trying to get the fan club which took fucking ages...

Hot pot and barbecue with friends - now that sounded fun. 

You saw the group chat messages from earlier, and the plan to all meet up at half past six. Had you not orchestrated other arrangements, you would be sitting with them right now enjoying nice meals and chats. Instead, your body remains to be railed thoroughly, right into the bed that belongs to none other than Chan. The owner of very capable hands who had just finished fucking you on his couch earlier on. 

He too missed dinner with everyone for the same reason. Selfishly being, to get laid. 

Chan presented half of a lie to the group chat, saying that his family was back in the city - which was true, and that he was going to visit them, so he couldn’t make it - not true. You on the other hand conjured the only fib you could think of and told everyone that you were going to be working past six.

Both of you felt relatively guilty for ditching the dinner. However, it would’ve looked ten times more suspicious if the two of you suddenly changed your minds at the same time and decided to show up. 

But why would anyone suspect anything? Nobody knew Chan was rearranging your guts every other night. Or so you thought. That dirty, slutty little secret was only kept hushed between you and Chan. These past couple of months you’ve spent at each other's houses, tainting the very last remnants of innocence either of you had. 

You wouldn’t have realised it at first until you experienced it for yourself, but Chan is and can get really horny. Before him, there was no such thing as ‘hard-paced’ or ‘nasty’ sex. It was fairly vanilla, which there’s nothing wrong with from time to time. But at the minute, that wasn’t the cup of tea you fancied. No. It was something much dirtier and riveting, something that makes you feel like you’re very much alive. 

Chan was able to achieve that in less than half an hour after you both hooked up one time after a night out. Sure there might’ve been alcohol involved, except neither of you were drunk enough to completely forget what an amazing time you both had. So much so that you and Chan decided to hook up again. And again, and again, until it became a weekly event. 

In saying that, there were a few layers as to why you and Chan started seeing each other regularly. You needed the de-stressor from work that had been hounding you for months, and among other things, there is nothing like a good dick down to make just about make every worry in your mind disappear.

As for Chan’s situation, it wasn’t as light. Having been cheated on by his long term partner, Chan entered what you refer to as his ‘hoe phase’ to which he was rather embarrassed to learn that it’s something that people tend to go through when they’ve broken up with their significant other. 

Nonetheless, you and Chan unexpectedly found each other in a way friends wouldn’t typically, and it was only limited to that. No strings attached, still remain good friends, and the best mind blowing sex. 

“Fuck - yes, right there!”

Chan’s hips ram unforgivingly into you from behind. Creating godly, euphoric waves that ripple throughout your body each and every time he does. His fingernails clutch themselves into the soft flesh of your hips, allowing him to use that small bit of traction to pull your body back onto his cock or for him to thrust forward mercilessly. 

This was way better than dinner with friends. 

“W-Wait,” you reach behind to the side of your body, trying to tap his arm and prompt him to slow down so you could get your message across without having it fucked right out of you. “Ride…lemme ride you.” 

Chan swallows and nods, taking a short breather, “yeah, yeah okay.” 

Whilst you’ve learned a lot of things about Chan since you’ve started sleeping with him, he’s also learned some stuff about you. Like discovering throughout your secret sessions with him that you seem to cum the hardest when you’re riding him. He doesn’t entirely see the appeal of it since he doesn’t mind picking up all the slack just so you don’t have to do any of the work. At the same time, however, nothing feels as good as fucking his frustrations into you.

But he also doesn’t mind them getting fucked out of him. It easily added to one of the reasons why he found it so hot to watch you ride dick. 

As he gently slides his cock out of you, moving into the next position where he now gets to lie back against his pillows. He watches you straddle him first, then take his length in hand before aligning it with your hole. Slowly, you sink down onto his cock. 

The ‘o’ shape in your mouth enlarges when the entirety of his length vanishes inside you. He’s big. Something you can’t always grasp every time you sleep together. The silver lining in that however is that the foreplay is amazing. 

“Christ,” you breathe out, lifting your hips up and down a couple of times, groaning as the pleasure already built up from before starts re-taking its effect to its highest extent. “Fuck, make me feel so full.” 

“So you keep telling me,” he responds with a cocky grin as his hand reaches up to one of your tits and gropes ravenously. “But that’s what you like isn’t it? Having a big cock inside you, yeah?”

Your hand claps right on top of his, the other stabilises your body on his chest as you start riding at a pace comfortable enough to build some momentum. It doesn’t take long until every part of your body feels like warm flames are tickling your skin, leaving tingly traces in their wake. 

“Yes, love it so much,” you pant breathlessly. “Love it when it makes me cum.” 

Chan is glad to hear that. Then again, he knows. He’s fucked you long enough to know what you like, what you don’t, and what type of pleasure can turn your mind inside out. With that in mind, and one hand still groping you, he uses the other thumb to find your clit and rub generously. 

“F-Fuck, oh my god, don’t stop, don’t stop,” you plead in anguish as you start to feel your orgasm shift into sight. 

It’s right there. The utmost pleasure and ecstasy at its apex swells from the pit of your stomach, to your toes, all the way into the crevices of your brain. Every part of you - physically and mentally, just seems to melt into Chan. His cock, which feels like it was made for you to use like this, glides frictionlessly until his tip kisses your g-spot so lovingly. Each time it hits, Chan earns extra centimetres of long red scratches down his abdomen, marked up by your fingernails. 

“Cum,” he demands through gritted teeth. “Fucking cum all over me.”

Brainless and vacant as you were in trying to respond to him, your actions seemed to speak for themselves. As Chan continues to move his thumb consistently over your clit and you bounce yourself still on his cock, your eyes suddenly screw tight shut - shuddering before a surge of relief gushes from between your legs. 

Chan grins sickeningly. 

The untapped pleasure squeezes and strangles moans out of your throat, yet, in the few spare moments when you had come back down to earth, your stomach felt like it dropped at some point along the way. The minute you open your eyes, breathing hard and heavy, your attention catches on to the mess you’ve made. 

Most of Chan’s abdomen is soaked with your juices, his taut torso gleaming with your cum. Droplets of it roll down his side and seep into the sheets below him. From there, the humiliation is quick to ensue. Chan even sees the panic fill your eyes. 

“Oh! I’m so sorry,” you whine apologetically. “I don’t know what happened! I was - I was caught up in-“

Chan ceases your babbling by grabbing the undersides of your thighs and just about throws you on your back as he moves to top you. His sudden movements catch you off guard, wondering for a moment what he was doing until he started fucking you again. 

“Chris!” you cry out, latching around his back. 

His head buries into the crook of your neck, “wanna feel you do it again. Wanna see you drip down my cock.” 

At his words of request, you knew it was possible with the way that his dick hits deeper, pressing against those sensitive spots inside you that have been milked of pleasure. It’s not difficult to feel it building up again. There’s zero refractory period, allowing you to cum in an uninterrupted procession. At this stage, Chan could just whisper dirty things in your ear and have you become a squirting mess on his bed for him to watch. He wondered if that was actually possible. 

After watching and making you cum an extraordinary amount of times this evening, Chan was about to witness another, this time, mixed with his own release of pleasure. He can never ignore that dense pressure stacking up in his cock, like a blocked pipe that’s about to burst with the help of the tension from your contracting walls. 

One hand at a time, he places each beside your head to lift himself up while still trying to maintain a consistent pace. Then he coils back, grabbing the undersides of your thighs again and leaning some of his weight down so that he can press deeper. 

Tears are pricking your eyes - not from any pain but from pleasure you’ve never felt. It’s so intense and has nowhere in your body to escape that the longer you hold it in, the more explosive it’s going to feel. As your emotions exude the ferocity of another orgasm, Chan absorbs your expressions, giving him a very clear estimate of when you’re about to cum. 

“Gonna give me another one?” he asks even though you’re in no state of mind to give him a verbal answer. “Gonna be a good girl and get my dick wet one last time?” 

You shake your head but only because you’re unsure if you can actually take that pressure that’s about to blow. Regardless of how high he has built your orgasms for you, you always take them well. It has you sobbing - screaming and clutching onto his bedding as you whimper that you’re about to cum. Chan could only just hear you over the sound of his skin slapping against yours. 

“You can do it,” he reassures you. “You always do.” 

At that moment, as if he just flipped a switch inside you, Chan had you gushing in an instant. Your upper body contorts to the left and stiffens as he fucks you right through it, right until his own orgasm slaps him on cue. Grunts mixed with whimpers force their way out from the base of Chan’s throat. His cock uncontrollably spurts his hot white cum, coating liberal amounts on your walls with a few hard, deep thrusts. 

"Fuck, oh my god," he groans through gritted teeth, satisfaction seeping through into his blood.

He pulls back to sit on his heels, looking down as he grabs the base of his cock now slicker than usual with milky, almost transparent liquid rings of white. The fact that both of your juices have mixed together does something to a sick part of Chan’s brain. His lower half is still dripping with your cum, forcing you to shy away into the bunched up sheets when you realise you’ve made another mess on him. 

Too weak to speak up about it, Chan had no trouble reading the room and caught onto your emotions. He was right to assume that you were embarrassed for it but fuck if Chan could experience it all again, he would. That then strikes an idea as he massages your inner thighs with the palms of his hands. 

“That’s never happened before,” he comments with a little bit of surprise, making you turn with embarrassment, all the while trying to ease you back down from your high. “So fucking hot.” 

His thumbs rub into your wet skin, inching closer to your pussy. Before you know it, the backs of his fingertips are brushing over your hole where his cum is leaking out of you. Semi sticky strings of it attach onto him when he pulls away and goes back in to smother it all the way up to your clit. He thumbs softly over the sensitive bud, setting fire again to the muscles in your lower half. 

You shudder a little bit from the faint stimulation, and finally muster the energy to talk, “yeah…d-don’t know how. Usually it’s - mm, just cause’…maybe you were hitting the right spot.”

Chan doesn’t meet your eyes, and by the preoccupied look on his face, it was clear that he had another agenda as his thumb continued to rub mindlessly. Although, he did hear you as he smirked and shook his head. 

“Nah, that was all you,” his mouth falls open slightly as he stares down at where his fingers begin to disappear. 

“Chan…” 

“I reckon you could give me one more,” he predicts as he starts to finger you slowly. “Just one more.”

“Please, fuck...” You whine loudly throughout the room. “D-Don’t think I can…please.” 

Chan moves to the side of you just a little bit, placing his other hand on your lower belly to apply just a little bit of welcoming pressure while he ignores you, “yes you can pretty. Only one.”

His fingers curl deviously inside you, forcing an automatic bodily response for your eyes to roll to the back of your head and back to arch clean off the bed. As he strokes over the spongy area, your fists are clenching on the duvet. Your body is beyond sensitive and squirms uncontrollably at the faintest of his touch. 

“Chris!” You sob, tears now leaking down the sides of your face from the euphoria. 

This was the closest replica to being high. It’s like the pleasure picked up where it left off from the previous orgasm Chan brought to you and nearly doubled in intensity to the point where you thought for a moment that you were going to black out. But it hits you harder than before since his fingers have a bit more precision to find and hit your g-spot rather than making you feel fuller. 

“That’s my good girl,” he says encouragingly. 

There and then, as Chan detects the tell-tale signs that you’re about to cum, he finger fucks you at a generous pace that doesn’t let up on the time your insides have to try mitigate the pleasure. It goes into overdrive, sending a bunch of all the right signals straight to your brain. 

“C-Cum…cumming…I’m-”

Chan appreciates the fact that he’s reduced you from crying and screaming his name to a silent, overstimulated mess. Alternatively, you’re surrendering entirely to the ecstasy which sweeps you under like a current. Chan doesn’t need to hold you in place for you to take what he’s giving you with his fingers. He just gives and gives, and gives until for the third time, he has you squirting. 

“Oh yeah, look at that,” he grins excitedly, watching his palm and all the way up to his forearm become completely drenched in your juices. “What a good girl.”

By that point, Chan was successful in running your body dry. His pace slows down, now gently stroking inside you. Your quiet, strained moans die down, along with a reserve tank of energy you had left. You were limp and helpless, a gorgeous mess on the bed for him to admire. 

Chan slowly takes his fingers out, gently massaging around your sensitive pussy, “fuck, so good."

You turn onto your side, processing all of that. For a few moments before, it felt like you had had an out of body experience, and maybe you were. Everything was so consuming and powerful that for a second you didn’t feel like yourself. But that wasn’t a bad thing, nor did you think of it that way. It’s just a new experience that you welcomed, one that made you feel good multiple times. 

Chan hops off the bed and kneels beside you onto the floor as he strokes and pats your head, “you okay?”

You nod then go to sit up, “mm, just out of it. Give me a few minutes.” 

“You - you shouldn’t move so much, not now at least,” Chan warns, then quickly spots the uncomfortable expression on your face as you realise that everything beneath you is wet and sticky.

“Your duvet,” you say to him, looking down and around at all the large damp areas.

“What about it?” 

“Well it’s all ruined-” 

“They’re not ruined,” he says defiantly like a stubborn child, almost like he was offended you even made that sort of comment. “It looks…fucking hot.”

“Hot,” you repeated with an airy chuckle. 

“I didn’t know you could do that,” says Chan, bewildered. 

“Neither could I to be honest,” you agree wholeheartedly. “It was really…intense and...strange.” 

“Strange?” He retorts. 

“Not a bad ‘strange’, just something I’ve always heard of, but never managed to do with someone else before,” you reply. 

Chan smiles to himself, looking at his bed before that grin drops off his face, “never managed to do it with someone else before? As in, you’ve done it before, just…on your own?” 

You blink up at him, quickly changing the subject, “reckon the others are still out?” 

“I’d imagine so,” he says, still thinking about what you said previously. 

“Hot pot and barbecue sounded so nice too…” you trail off, eyes going in and out of focus. Your body is starting to catch up to you.

“Well, luckily we live in the era of food delivery, right?” He responds confidently. “Let me clean you up first, then we can hop in the shower. After that, I’ll order it in for us, sound good?” 

Sometimes when you’re with Chan, you forget that at the end of the day, he’s one of your good friends and still acts like it after you sleep with him. He knows when to be your fuck buddy and when to be your mate. None of it is awkward or weird and nor does he strive to make it that way. 

Potentially it’s because of his nature to be a gentleman inside the bedroom just as much as he is outside, hence why you had a considerate amount of gratitude towards him for not being an ass like some of the people you’ve hooked up with or seen casually in the past. But that could never be the two people you slept with a few weeks back. 

Not Hyunjin nor Jisung, whom you’ve thought about ever since that night at his apartment. Although it was truth or dare that led you all to the events that unfolded, you would’ve still slept with them anyway without the game. Just thinking about the two of them makes you miss them. Makes you miss the way that they touched you. 

It was a different feeling to how Chan normally touches you. With him, he’s a friend with benefits. Someone who can call you or you can call him whenever either of you need each other. As a result, there isn’t going to be anything fond or loving between the pair of you - which you’re more than happy with. You made that clear to Chan at the start that you weren’t looking to enter into a relationship with him at any stage if that’s what he was thinking. 

Thankfully, he wasn’t either. 

But when Hyunjin and Jisung touched you, it was surreal. Almost natural, like they were meant to feel you that way and only them. That was the difference between them and Chan, not that you were comparing them since you saw them in separate positive lights.

There was just something about those two that left a strong imprint on your brain, something you can’t scratch without them…

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