#like being in a movie theater by yourself

[sapphire-writes]

an ego thing ~ modern!Aemond x Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

summary: Aemond and you go out on a date! A cute date. A normal, totally innocent, and sweet date. You can do that, right? warnings: 18+ spicy stuff below the cut (smut, explicit p in v, fingering, exhibitionist, dirty talk, praise, daddy kink), language

word count: 2.6k

note: academic rival date night! hope you enjoy it my loves I went a lil wild with this one but what's a girl gonna do!

A date with Aemond Targaryen.

A motherfucking date. With Aemond Targaryen.

If you had told yourself a month ago you would be getting ready for a date with him, you would have laughed in your own face. Nor that you hadn’t always found him alluringly attractive, you had, but he was also a raging know-it-all.  

Now you were sitting in front of your floor-length mirror, applying the finishing touches of makeup as Baela chatted with you from her bed. She lay upside down on her pastel blue comforter, legs propped against the wall and her head hanging over the edge. Her silver curls fell like waves barely brushing against the floor. 

“Tell me what you’re doing again?” she begs, cheeks turning pink all the blood rushing to her head.

You chuckle.

“Bae, you’re going to pass out and fall. And I will laugh at you,” you tell her, meeting her eyes through the mirror. 

“So rude,” she says, but she pulls herself up, propping her chin on her hands. 

“We’re just grabbing dinner and seeing a movie,” you tell her, “typical, normal, first date stuff.”

“And then you’ll ride him in the back of that sexy car of his,” Baela adds, as you flush, “totally normal.”

“We are not fucking in his car,” you insist.

“Why not?” she asks, “car sex is hot.”

You roll your eyes.

“It’s a date,” you tell her, “I want to be wined and dined. Like a lady.”

“Screw being a lady,” Baela groans impatiently, “let him fuck you like a whore!”

She holds a hand up as you go to protest.

“Correction! Let him fuck you like a whore again,” she says snickering. 

Your cheeks are on fire and you grab a nearby pillow chucking it at her as she descends into giggles.

“Oh Aemond,” she says imitating you, “that tongue, those fingers fuck!”

“I told you that in confidence!” you yell, getting up to attack her, laughing while you do stuff.

“Shove your fat cock-”

“Baela!” you say, covering her mouth with your hand as a knock comes from the door. 

You and Baela widen your eyes as you keep your hand on her mouth.

“Be quiet,” you order your best friend and she nods, violet eyes full of mischief. 

You remove your hand and she gives one final fake moan before pressing her lips together. You love her, but you could kill her all the same. Fixing your hair and dusting yourself off, you go to open the door. 

Aemond’s tall form greets you, and he gives you a polite smile. You look him up and down, cheeks burning. 

Has he always looked this good?

His silver hair is braided down his back, out of his face. He’s wearing dark jeans tonight, he’s always in dark colors it seems, with a black leather jacket over a dark green flannel open to reveal a black t-shirt. You’re so close you can smell his cologne, it makes your mouth water. 

Aemond’s eyes scan you. You chose a classic, little black dress that hugs you all the ways a good dress should. Short, but not too short, revealing just the right amount of your thighs. You paired it with a comfy cardigan, in case the theater gets cold. And a rather sexy choice of panties.

Not that Baela was right or anything. Just in case. 

There’s a hungry look in Aemond’s eyes as he roams your form, sending warmth pooling in your belly. 

“Hey,” you breathe, “I’m ready.”

“I brought you these,” Aemond says, revealing a small bouquet of lavender tulips.

Your face flushes and you smile, surprised.

“Thank you,” you say taking them, “that’s really sweet of you, Aemond.”

“Of course,” he shrugs, putting his hands in his pocket.

You place the flowers on your desk and grab your purse. 

“Have fun you two!” Baela says smirking, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“She’s so funny, she’s hilarious, haha,” you jokingly glare at Baela as you hurry Aemond out, cloning the door.

“You look amazing,” Aemond says, gaze softening. 

“So do you,” you tell him.

Aemond and you came to a decision a day before the date. Both of you have very strong personalities and clearly wanted the date to be perfect. He chose dinner, you chose the movie. You had to admit Aemond had excellent taste. The restaurant he chose was way nicer than any place you’d been before, though when you told him he merely shrugged.

“This is nothing,” he tells you, “next time we’ll go all out.”

Next time.

It sent a pleasurable shiver down your spine to hear him talk so openly about the idea of going on multiple dates with you. 

While dinner was a huge success (minus the brief heated debate you got into when discussing a recent history lesson) your end of the date was not turning out the way you planned. 

“Shit, they’re sold out of The Queen Who Never Was,” you say, looking at the showtimes board. 

Damn, you were really looking forward to a sappy romance movie. Historical fiction, based on a woman you greatly admired. You wanted this date to be perfect. You pout, looking at Aemond. He scans the board releasing a hum.

“What about Sins of the Flesh?” he asks, pointing at the upcoming showtime. 

You glance at the poster on the wall. It looks innocent enough, just a rose on a black backdrop. The title is alluring but it's probably fine. It’s been out for a while it seems. 

“Um, okay,” you answer, “I’m down for anything as long as we get popcorn.”

Aemond chuckles. 

“Of course,” he says, reaching for his wallet.

“What’s a movie without popcorn?” 

After you buy your tickets and snacks, you head to the theater. The theater is pretty empty, except for a couple of middle-aged women near the front rows. You suppose since the movie has been out for a while, everyone who really wanted to see it has already.

You and Aemond choose the last row, plopping into the comfy seats. You glance over at him as the lights begin to dim. He looks ridiculously handsome in the low light, the shadows catching the angles of his face. 

Your stomach turns nervously and suddenly it's not the popcorn you’re craving. You place the bucket in the seat next to you as the movie begins. 

You need to chill out. What is it about Aemond Targaryen that makes you feel like a horned-up teenager? You take a deep breath feeling his hand grab yours. You meet his eye and he smiles softly. 

See? Cute. This is a cute date. Stop being so filthy. 

You smile back and decide to focus on the movie. 

The gods are clearly not in favor of you having a cute, innocent date night. Only twenty minutes in and our main character has become the paramour to a knight and is getting railed in a pleasure house, obscene moans filling the nearly empty theater. 

Your cheeks are on fire and you don’t dare look at Aemond as the main character lets out another pornographic moan. 

This is going to be a long two hours.

Maybe you should take Baela’s advice, surely car sex after a date isn’t so bad, hell you and Aemond have already had sex plenty of times, so it’s totally-

What is that?

A hand is touching your knee, yanking you out of your thoughts. You glance down seeing Aemond’s long fingers rubbing circles on top of your knee. Your breath catches in your throat as you turn your head ever so slightly to look at him. 

He’s facing forward watching the screen, apparently very engrossed in the nipple play going on between the knight and the main character. Your eyes fall back to his hand watching as it creeps higher up your leg. 

Aemond’s fingers dance along the skin of your thigh, dipping between them to caress the soft skin that never sees the sun. Your lips part as you watch the lazy circles he traces. Aemond adjusts his position sitting, turning his head toward you, and leaning down close to your ear. 

“You’re missing the movie,” he whispers, his tone teasing. 

You meet his eyes and he nods toward the screen.

“Watch,” he tells you. 

You pause only a moment before bringing your eyes back to the screen. You can’t focus. All you can focus on is the feeling of Aemond’s fingers nudging your thighs apart, and how you eagerly open them for him to do as he pleases.

Aemond chuckles at that, stroking a finger against the lace of your panties. You dig your nails into the leather armrests. 

The pad of his finger presses into your clit, feeling the wet spot that has already formed simply from him stroking your thighs. 

He chuckles again, fingers looping around the lace, pulling it to the side. 

“You’re this wet already?” he says as you gasp when he strokes his fingers through your silky folds, “such a needy girl.”

Your breathing is labored, coming out in short pants as he teases your clit.

“Keep that pretty mouth quiet, baby,” he murmurs, sinking two fingers knuckle deep in your pussy. 

Your hips buck up off the seat meeting his hand, desperate for him to be deeper inside of you. A quiet moan leaves your lips.

“Shh,” Aemond croons, curling his fingers against your spongy walls.

The palm of his hand grinds against your sensitive clit and you bite your lip hard enough to draw blood. A woman in the front gets up and walks out, seemingly going to the bathroom. You feel a bead of nervous sweat run down your neck as Aemond continues his torturous ministrations, winding a pleasurable current in your lower belly. 

“Aemond,” you breathe through your teeth.

You’re just on the edge of coming, your thighs beginning to tremble with your impending release. 

“Come on my fingers baby,” Aemond tells you, “that’s a good girl.”

A small squeak leaves your lips as you clench around his fingers. Aemond continues to finger fuck you through your orgasm until you’re whispering to him to stop.

“Please, please, Aemond,” you beg, the overstimulation causing tears to form in your eyes. 

“Hmm,” Aemond says, slowly removing his fingers from you, lazily wiping them on your bare thigh.

The movie is still going, it takes him barely any time at all to turn you to absolute mush in his hands, on his cock, under his tongue. Sex with him is seriously incredible. 

His hand remains on your thigh and just when you think you’re in the clear, his fingers curl squeezing into the tender flesh. You meet his eyes, greeted by dark pupils dilated with lust. Aemond grins wickedly, before snaking his free arm around your waist and dragging you into his lap.

You moan, feeling his hardness underneath you, straining through his jeans. Aemond leans forward, kissing your neck up to your ear, pulling your back flush against his chest.  

“Keep watching the movie baby,” he murmurs, hands fiddling with his belt, “let me do all the work.”

“Aemond,” you moan as he sinks his teeth into your shoulder. 

You hear his belt unbuckle, and his pants unzip. Holy shit you’re really doing this. You open your eyes, you can see the back of the heads of the only other group in the theater. They’re engrossed in the movie, no way they’ll turn back. 

“Hips up,” Aemond murmurs, and you do as you’re told.

You can feel the tip of his cock poking between your slick lips before you sink down engulfing him. Your eyes roll back as you take him completely, the new angle of reverse riding him bringing him deeper inside of you. Aemond places his hands on your hips lifting you, supporting you by riding his cock.

“Oh fuck,” you mewl desperately as pleasure tightens your abdomen. 

“You like riding my cock where anyone could see?” Aemond asks, “I thought I was dating a good girl, but you’re just a dirty little slut.”

“Fuck Aemond,” you breathe, lifting your hips to assist him. 

“You’d let me fuck you anywhere, wouldn’t you?” he asks, “Where anyone could see that you’re all mine, huh?”

“Yes,” you whimper, “yes Aemond fuck, wherever you want.”

“Such a good girl,” he praises, “knows just how to make me happy huh?” 

Gods the pleasure is blinding, the way he’s talking to you it's all too much. His fingers move to your clit stroking gently against the sensitive nub as he’s whispering such filthy confessions in your ear, you can’t help yourself. You’re so far gone, head buzzing with greedy pleasure you find yourself babbling back at him. 

“Yes Daddy,” you moan, and Aemond freezes his kisses on your neck. 

Your cheeks flush and your throat constricts as your eyes snap open. Oh shit. You’ve never done that with anyone. Ever. Oh my god. Have you just utterly embarrassed yourself? You keep moving your hips slightly, your heart pounding wildly against your ribs. 

Before you have a chance to say anything the woman who left for the bathroom returns. Aemond clamps his hand over your mouth as you pause your movements. If you’re still there’s no way she’ll notice you, you’re both so shrouded in darkness in the back row. 

As she takes her seat Aemond resumes his thrusts, quickening his movements on your clit. You wonder for a moment if he’ll just forget what you said, fuck the embarrassment from your body before he speaks. 

“Such a good girl for Daddy,” he purrs, nibbling against your neck, “you like that huh? I feel you clenching around my cock.”

“Fuckkk,” you wantonly mewl, “yes Aemond, just like that.”

“Come, pretty girl, all over Daddy’s cock,” he murmurs, the head of his cock roughly hitting your sweet spot. 

Aemond’s hand covers your mouth once more as you can’t hold back the moan that rolls through you as you orgasm hard on his cock. Aemond keeps thrusting as you come down from your orgasm and you move off his lap. You take his cock in your hand, sinking to your knees on the ground before him, placing him in your mouth. 

It’s dirty and erotic, blowing him in the theater, tasting your juices on his cock as you gag around his length. His hands rest on your head, not pushing but gently guiding you as you bob your head up and down on his length. You hum, the vibrations making Aemond throw his head back against the seat. Pleased with the reaction, you reach to cup his balls in your hand, fondling them gently. 

“Fuck,” Aemond hisses through his teeth before his salty release coats the back of your throat. 

You rise from the floor, plopping back into your seat. You have no idea what’s happened in the movie but you can’t find it in you to care as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. Aemond buckles his pants. 

Aemond and you sit in silence for a moment. 

“So,” Aemond says softly, “you have a dad-”

“Don’t say it,” you tell him blushing, “I don’t know where that came from.”

Aemond grins wolfishly. 

“Guess I bring out the worst in you, too,” he says, grabbing your hand, and lacing his fingers through yours. 

“I guess so,” you agree. 

You frown, confused at the direction the movie has taken. Your main character has somehow found herself in a brothel. 

“You wanna get out of here?” Aemond asks, as if reading your mind, “I bet we could grab some ice cream, and maybe watch a different movie in my room?”

“You had me at ice cream,” you tell him.

Aemond grins, standing and leading you out of the theater.

note: how do we feel about Daddy Academic rival Aemond something came over me and I had to LMAO I hope you enjoyed it!!

AET taglist: @ephemeralninon, @aemonds-wifey, @haydee5010, @schniiipsel, @sweetsweetpsyche, @letmeloveyouuuu, @glitterandgoldfinds, @greenowlfactif, @vrtualfairy @fan-goddess @let-love-bleeds-red @praline357, @castellomargot, @f4ll-for-you, @fairysluna, @namelesslosers, @pax-2735, @yentroucnagol, @rwdkarla, @itsabby15, @sweetsweetpsyche,

[munsonsreputation]

Cruel Summer

steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: [2.1K] this was supposed to be an imagine turned into a short fic LOL

warnings: warnings: no use of y/n, fwb to lovers, cursing, brief talks of sex (no smut lol) reader and steve arguing, reader crying (she's ok), confession, FLUFF.

summary: with you and steve having your little summer fling turned more, you obviously had a price to pay. you couldn't help the feelings that you garnered for the guy and now you couldn't bare to keep your feelings for him a secret anymore. but will steve feel the same or was the last three months just a cruel summer?

this is dedicated to the lovely cleo, @new-romqntics...your request sparked something in me and i hope i did it justice!!! ily babes!!!

A summer fling.

This is all it was supposed to be, but of course nothing is ever what it seems. At least that’s the case for you and Steve Harrington, the quote unquote bad boy heartbreaker of Hawkins that you took a chance on.

What was supposed to be secret hookups at late hours of the night slowly became something more.

It became spending the night in his bed, talking about everything under moonlight that illuminated your nude bodies.

It became him calling you to ask what you were up to on random afternoons, asking if you’d like to come see the newest movie at the theater.

It became you yelling at him to get in the car as you drove down the lake where you both would swim and forget all about your plans.

It became you letting him sneak through your garden gates when everyone was asleep so he could have a good night’s rest instead of listening to his parents fight all night.

It became you crying in his arms when you were having a particularly hard day, Steve whispering sweet nothings into your ear and being there for you.

It was delicate touches, longing stares, and sweet kisses that crossed every line that was supposed to keep a summer fling and falling in love on two separate sides.

In June, you were sure that it was just sex. Hookups in the backseat of his car and tiptoeing back up your stairs, trying not to get caught. Concealing hickies and acting oblivious when the kids across the street asked if you knew their babysitter, Steve. Late phones calls asking if you wanted to come over and have some fun.

But something happened, mid-June he showed up to your house unannounced with a busted lip. He and his dad had gotten into it, and he didn’t know where to go. You were the first person who popped into his mind when he felt the blood spewing in his mouth, knowing that you could be the one to help him. He sat on the toilet bowl lid while you dabbed at his mouth and he told you everything about his absent parents and upbringing.

In July, things started getting more comfortable. You two let each other into your lives—more than knowing about who your first kiss was or what you wanted to be when you grew up. You both were there for each other, making random phone calls in the middle of the day to check up on each other. July was the same month where Steve had found you a crying mess on your bed when he tried to sneak in through your window to surprise you. You both spent the night in each other’s arms—fully clothed—just relishing the feeling of each other and his sweet words.

In August, you knew you were fucked. You fell for him harder for him every day, just longing to be with him and for a moment it seemed like he felt the same. You practically spent everyday together—holding hands, kissing, tickling each other, getting into stupid little fights about little things, making up with ice cream, tight hugs, and mind-blowing sex. All the couple things, but yet not a couple.

Three months of this fever dream and you were sure that now, more than ever, you wanted him for eternity. But you had made a promise to yourself and to Steve that this was nothing more than a summer fling. But of course your heart had other plans, your heartstrings pulled by every memory and moment you two shared, and for once in your life you were terrified of letting go of something you knew was gonna hurt you.

But not for long because as the last few days of summer were nearing, you had a feeling that this was going to end sooner than later.

“Whatcha thinking about?” Steve poked at your side, sitting up from his original position on the picnic blanket where he was laying with his hands behind his head.

You flinched a bit, smiling somewhat as you turned your head to face him with glowy eyes.

He was so beautiful even if he looked like a sweaty mess under the blistering Indiana sun. His hair was still effortlessly falling and his freckles dotting his face like a bunch of sun kisses.

You shook your head, “Nothing. It’s stupid,” turning your head back to the sky, following the clouds wander lazily through the town.

“Hey, come on,” He hovered over your view, warm hands playfully squishing your cheeks, “I thought we told each other everything.”

“Yeah, but this one doesn’t matter,” you shook it off with a small laugh attempting to push him away, yet he didn’t fright, just staying in place where he gawked at you genuinely.

“C’mon. Tell. Me—ee!” He gently prodded, pecking your lips with each word as you snickered for a second, playfully nudging him off you as you sat up.

“Fine.”

The mere thought of you confessing your feelings for Steve was enough to make your stomach churn and your palms sweat. Usually you weren’t like this. You could say how you felt and not be ashamed, but here, you could feel the eyes of the angels above you rolling like they could read your mind and your naïve little thoughts about the boy in front of you.

But you were willing to take that chance to roll the dice on something good or bad. Like the little devil on your shoulder egging you on, telling you to just spit it out even if it could hurt you. And at the end of the day you were more than willing to say it, to say every goddamn thing that you’ve been wanting to say since you fell for Steve, even if it meant breaking your own heart—if it didn’t kill you, it would just make you want him more.

Steve must have noticed how nervous you were since you gone quiet, slowly reaching for your hands he spoke soft, “You okay?” he asked.

You nodded hastily, “Y-yeah, I’m fine,” you lied while your throated tightened, the words breaking, as you could feel your heart pounding in your chest with every second Steve had his hands on you.

“Take your time, baby.” He gave you a reassuring smile with his thumbs rubbing back and forth against your knuckles.

You had to cut to the bone.

Taking a deep breath with your eyes closed, you prepared yourself for everything.

This was it.

Now or never.

You couldn’t keep this a secret anymore.

Your eyes opened, Steve staring at you as he waited with anticipation.

“I love you.” With your voice barely a whisper, the truth revealed itself and you could see the shock and confusion fall on his face.

His thumbs stopped moving against your skin and everything felt like time had stopped.

“I—I don’t understand…” He sputtered, hands falling away from you as you could feel your heart already beginning to break, “I—I thought we said no feelings.”

“I can’t help how I feel, Steve.” You furrowed your brows, scooting away from him as you shook your head, “You made me like this. You’re the one who made me fall in love with you. Is it really that bad? Is it the worst thing you’ve ever heard?”

He shook his head, face concealed with his hands where he smoothed down his features, “We promised. You promised!”

You rolled your eyes, the frustration and anger growing inside of you, “What do you want me to say? That I’m sorry for screwing this up? Tell me Steve…tell me because I’m trying, but I don’t know if I can lie any longer.”

He stared at you at a loss for words, looking at you like he had seen a ghost and forgot how to speak. An exasperated sigh left your mouth, nodding your head to yourself as you got up, giving him one last look, “I can’t do this…”

With that, you turned around, feet walking fast through the grass and flowers, as you could feel the tears springing to your eyes. His footsteps being only a few feet behind you where you knew he was following.

“Stop running away from the conversation!” He called out, only making you walk faster.

You shouted loud enough for him to hear, “The conversation was over the second you said nothing back to me!”

“Because you took me by surprise! How do you expect someone to react when they just blurt out that they love you?”

You scoffed, wiping your tears that fell down your cheeks with your shaky fingers, “To say something rather than stare at me like I’m a fucking idiot!”

“Stop. Just…please.” You felt him reach for your arm, pulling you back to him where you both met face to face.

Yours covered with hurt. His covered with regret.

You couldn’t hold back any longer, he needed to hear this, “You’re afraid of falling in love, Steve.” you spoke, “Tell me that you don’t love me. That the past three months was just sex. That you didn’t think about spending forever together. Tell me and I’ll leave. I’ll go and forget the last three months ever happened.” Your voice was strong yet weak, your free hand pointing in the other direction, letting him know you were more than happy to go and forget.

Steve’s expression turned to one of surprise and hurt. His narrow eyes accompanied with his pinched brows let you know that you hit a spot, “It’s not that simple and you k-know that,” he said, his voice low and cracking.

“Then what is it?” You harshly pulled your arm away from him, crossing them over your chest while your gaze hardened, trying not to blink and let the tears slip, “Why won’t you let yourself love me?”

He exhaled, shaking his head as he turned for a second, running his hands roughly down his face before looking at you once more.

“Who’s to say that I don’t love!” He said aloud, searching your eyes that widened and your mouth slowly dropping, “How do you know those three words haven’t been on the tip of my tongue since you saw me bleeding? You have no idea how much I love you, but I can’t let myself hurt you.”

Your anger melted away as you blinked and looked into Steve’s eyes. His pleading ones begging you to understand the depth of his feelings, yet you didn’t.

“I—I don’t…don’t understand.” You croaked, shaking your head as you continued to cry like a baby.

He stepped closer, both of his hands reaching for your face where his thumbs brushed your tears away, “I won’t forgive myself if I hurt you. I—I want to be with you…I love you, but I just don’t want to mess this up.”

Your heart ached for Steve. You knew from everything that he told you about his ex-girlfriends that he wasn’t necessarily the best partner, but then again you were willing to take all the risks. To take Steve for the person he was now, the one who spoke about his feelings, not the one from high school who didn’t. You knew him deeply, and you knew that this wasn’t how this story was supposed to end.

You swallowed thickly, sniffles filling the summer breeze before you whispered, “We’ll never know if we don’t try, Steve.” your hands rested on his chest where you could feel his heart thumping quick, “It’s not fair to either of us if we don’t take the chance.”

Steve’s expression seem to soften as he listened to your words laced with sincerity. “You’re right, we gotta try or we’ll never know what could’ve been,” he agreed, taking a deep breath, “I want us to work. I can’t lose you.”

You smiled softly, shaking your head as your hands trailed from his chest to wrap around his wrist where his hands were still on your cheeks, “You don’t have to be afraid, Steve—I’m sure of this and I’m even more sure that I love you.”

He grinned, pulling your face towards him where his lips barely hovered over yours as he spoke, “I love you too,” before finally pressing your lips together.

Your fates were sealed as you two stood there, lips locked under the dwindling summer sky. What once was unbreakable heaven with no rules had now just became everything fragile yet beautiful with those three words. You both knew that this was the price that you two were paying for starting this whole summer fling—but you two would both do it over again and again if it ended up like this.

So maybe a cruel summer was worth the start of a kind forever.

A/N: this fic wasn't planned but thanks to cleo and her request this came to life!!! i hope you all liked this and consider, reblogs, likes, tags, and comments which are greatly appreciated 💘✨💌 if you want to be added to my tag list, leave a comment and let me know!!! again, ily cleo and thanks for this!! and all credits to taylor swift for this fucking addicting song!!!

taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @fckthtgetmoney @loving-and-dreaming

[cbrownjc]

what if i told you that I've read all the books and still prefer loumand over lestat. what if i told that not even armand killing claudia with his bare hands wouldn't make me hate him. what if i told you that i will still stan louis for continuing to be with armand even after armand probably kills his child. like i am aware of everything. you would tell me that loustat is endgame. so it's not that you care about louis or claudia or armand or even fans hating assad. you just wish show lestat wasn't already such a pile of garbage and that so far for many fans he's irredeemable. i can promise you the only people that already hate and will definitely hate assad and lash him are white fans. which is going to be so funny for you who thinks you can buy your way into whiteness by keekeeing with white fans against the mostly black and brown loumand fans

Hey Anon, guess what?

I don't care if you've read the books or not. It clearly hasn't stopped you from making incorrect assumptions about people and things or being absolutely toxic about all of this.

I probably read the books and was originally in VC fandom before you were even born. There were only four books published when I joined. I saw the 1994 movie in theaters.

And guess what? People were shipping Louis and Armand back then too. And nobody cared and there wasn't any insane "nice guy" Armand theories or ship wars about to prop it up either. People shipped who they liked and that was that.

Again, because you can't seem to understand or get it: I don't care if you ship Armand and Louis. Many of us don't.

And this is not about that and you know it.

First of all yes, I'll still say Loustat is endgame. Do you know why? Because not only is that how the book series ended, but Rolin Jones - you know, the showrunner - has said it himself as well that the relationship between Louis and Lestat is the heart of the show.

So saying that is just based on feakin' logic, based on actual current available information. Not my personal opinion.

I can sit here and say all day or all night that Harry is going to end up with Hermione one day, but that will never make it true, either via the books or the movie series based on, you know, the actual facts of things as they currently stand.

So until you've got something other than yourself and your personal feelings about all of this to go by? Then yeah I'll keep saying it based on the books and what RJ has said about it all so far.

And he's not on social media. So all of this you're doing? Not only is he not aware of it, but he probably wouldn't care if he found out either.

None of this has anything to do with the damn sipping war, or personal grievance you so seem hell-bent on wanting to start and have with me or anyone else about all of this. Or any slights you continue to keep personally feeling whenever someone says it.

If the books had ended at Blood Canticle, which is where the series did end for a long-ass time BTW, I would have said that book canon endgame couple was Lestat-Rowan - because that is what it was - while the show was changing it to Lestat-Louis because that is what Rolin Jones, you know, again, the showrunner, was saying it was going to be.

Again, it's all called facts and logic. No more, no less.

And I'm going to call BS right now on people like you not attacking Assad. You say that now but I'm very sure the minute he doesn't back your "nice guy Armand" theory in some way or push that something other than Armand and Louis is endgame, you'll turn on him and say not-so-nice things about him. It always happens. And you'll probably call him a sell-out and trying to latch onto whiteness when he does, just like you're trying with me right now (or anyone who dares not to back or support your theories from what I've seen). (And attacking Sam Reid just because you don't like his character still isn't a good look for ya'll BTW.)

This isn't a race or racism thing Anon. No matter how much you'll try and keep saying it is. And because you don't know a thing about me you of course don't know how I've already called out white fans when it comes to Armand and Assad being cast as him just a few days ago. So don't come at me with your weak argument regarding this topic okay?

Because see, if you really want to go on the topic of race about all this, then why this need to erase everything Armand actually is a character now that the person playing him is a POC? Why the need to, pardon the pun, whitewash him?

Is it absolutely impossible for you to see a POC play a problematic character, in a story full of other problematic characters, and still prefer him over another? You say it isn't, that you like Armand from the books despite the things he's done. But yet, here you all are with the theory that Armand is going to be a good guy and whatnot, based on absolutely nothing but your own feelings and opinion.

Is Armand's problematic nature worse to you because he is a POC now? Why this need from you and some others to erase the complexity, and the trauma, that made Armand become who he was to where he did what he did to Claudia, and instead you have this need for him to be an unblemished good guy instead?

Because you damn well know this isn't - and never has been - about you and other shipping Armand and Louis and anyone having a big problem with that. Because if you knew me at all, you'd know that I'm actually very poly about all this - and really like the polyamorous nature of all these vampires in general - and would be just as happy with it ending with a four-character pile that has Louis and Armand in there.

No. This has all, and only ever been, about this "nice guy Armand" theory you and many other keep insisting on trying to make real.

And maybe you should ask yourself why that is.

Because it seems to me you want him to be unproblematic to actually do the very thing you're trying to accuse me of - which is kowtowing to white fans' most awful racist tendencies when it comes to POC who aren't perfect, or unproblematic. (Something especially seen with black people - real and fictional.)

Why is Armand not being as problematic and complex as all the other characters on the show, just like his book counterpart, so important to you? Maybe you should ask yourself that Anon, before you start attacking other people on this okay?

[lovely-cryptid]

I hope you like it @fluffy-little-demon 💙

"Son of a bitch!" you growled, flinging items around in your closet with growing frenzy, and you barely heard the sound of approaching footsteps over your grumbling and frantic movements.

"You rang?" Bo drawled casually and you glanced over your shoulder at the Alpha just in time to see him place a hand on his cocked hip and lean against the doorframe.

His bright blue eyes swept across the disheveled room and he let out a low whistle and raised an eyebrow in silent question. Immediately you wanted to curl in on yourself in shame, but your inner Omega suddenly reared their head at being so close to the Alpha. A soft hurt whine escaped your throat before you could stop it and his eyes instantly shot to you as he stood straighter at you shift on mood. You walked over to him and buried your face in his chest. His arms wrapped around your waist and you felt him nuzzle the top of your head, subtly scenting you as if trying to figure out if you're hurt, and you pressed your face closer into him. The smell of fresh laundry detergent, smoke, cologne, and his natural spicy Alpha scent filled your nose and eased the tight knot in your chest. You felt another whimper bubbling in the back of your throat, but you forced it down.

"What's wrong, darlin'?" Bo asked in a soft honey-sweet tone you rarely get to hear, one hand moving from your waist to tangle loosely in your hair, and you didn't resist him as he used his new hold to tilt your face up.

He was watching you intensely, lips curled into a frown, and for a split second you thought about lying just to make him change his expression back to his usual cocky smug look. As if reading your mind his fingers tightened in your hair and he tugged at the roots with enough pressure to make you snap to attention.

"I want to nest, but it's laundry day and I can't find any supplies," you confess, face burning in embarrassment, and Bo just hummed in response while looking around the room once more.

Your usual pile of blankets and pillows where currently in the washing machine, the smell from your last Heat still clung to the fabric enough to make both Bo and Vincent twitchy, and your inner Omega decided to throw a tantrum at your deconstructed nest. Your backup blankets had to be replaced entirely after you used them to staunch blood from a wound on Bo after an altercation with a tourist that escaped, the man now placed in the movie theater immortalized in wax, and you haven't had a chance to clean or replace them. Just thinking about them so close but useless had you anxiously gripping the front of Bo's mechanic shirt in distress.

"Well...I got some clothes you can use in the meantime. And I can grab my blankets," Bo said while smoothing his rough calloused hands over your arms, his eyes still glancing around the room even as his expression remained thoughtful.

Your breath caught in your lungs at his words and your heart skipped a beat.

"Did...did you know that it's very intimate to offer an Omega your personal clothes for nesting?" you asked carefully. Your fingers trembled as the fidgeted with a loose thread on his shirt and you watched as his face grew puzzled.

"No...I did not," he said slowly, eyes narrowing in thought, and you could feel your heart now pounding in your chest.

When you were first allowed to live in Ambrose, after proving yourself trustworthy enough to leave the garage with Bo, both Sinclair Alphas clearly didn't know how to act around an Omega that they weren't going to kill. You attributed it to the fact that Trudy never sat them down to explain anything but their own dynamics to them growing up and the fact that Ambrose was such a small town that talking about the inner workings of an Omega was considered taboo. That left Bo with a massive possessive streak and both twins struggled with instincts that they didn't know how to completely handle. You even caught Vincent lurking around to watch you as you cooked or cleaned. Finding small wax statues of exotic flowers and cute animals in places only you frequent, the silent twin watching from the shadows as you find his gifts, but then disappearing before you could thank him.

You still vividly remember how Bo locked you back in his basement when your first Heat since arriving in Ambrose struck, the intense look of want in his wild gaze as he paced like a caged lion at your scent, and then him following his own instincts to gift you soft comfortable things to nest in before leaving you to suffer your Heat alone. When you were let out after your Heat passed, you both barely made it to the front porch of the house before he was inside you. Then later you had to explain how him leaving you in that state after being so close hurt you more than it helped. Now it seemed there was something else to explain.

That only mated pairs shared nests, or that only bonded Alphas share their clothes because their scent was stronger, and you debated silently on the best way to explain just that.

"If it makes you stop smelling like 'that' then I don't care," Bo said with a wrinkle of his nose, and your face heated once more in mortification at the fact that he could smell your distress.

"It's not proper-" you began and was quickly stopped by his sharp bark of laughter.

"Darlin'...there's nothing 'proper' in this whole fuckin' town," he said with another laugh, eyes crinkling adorably in the corners with his mirth, and he placed a short rough kiss on the corner of your mouth.

"Now get your ass in my room and pick out stuff for your nest," he continued with a quick hard swat to your backside and you couldn't help the surge of elation that filled you.

It seemed you had a nest to build after all.

[bonefalchion]

When you find out that Ao3 has less than 100 fics for a novel/show and now you gotta fuel yourself

[allpromarlo]

wakanda forever did the first black panther justice in the way that it made me cry like a bitch and also made me thirst for the antagonist. movie of the year

[damazcuz]

One more question(for now) why do people on tumblr use tags to talk #like this #about whatever they think of the post, instead of just commenting on the reblog😭 Is there an etiquette I'm missing?

short answer: yes.

long answer, there is an etiquette to it, and I think it's a longstanding thing that just ended up ingrained in a lot of users, which comes off as cold/shy/outlandish or maybe even standoffish to people from other sites and apps. there's no be-all end-all of how to act online or on here but i think in terms of most* people (*speaking broadly, making this up) who've used tumblr for a while it feels like this:

tumblr is a theater, the dashboard is a stage, each post is a performance. (a joke, a dramatic act, a story, a movie, a picture, etc.) you have a variety of ways to interact with the performance, but some of them are going to be more frowned upon--based purely on how the long standing visitors of the theater are used to acting, honestly.

likes are a polite applause, but they don't show anyone outside of the theater that you enjoyed yourself, or what you enjoyed. the performer appreciates the applause but does not garner any new viewers when you only like a post, btw.

silent reblogs mean you exit the theater with merch or a leaflet and go show it to other people. look what i saw on the stage, don't you want to see it too. this shows the performance to a new variety of viewers, who might then also show it to others.

replies and reblogs with content are often seen as """"rude"""" because they're like standing up at the end of the performance and loudly saying "that was okay but I think MY take on things makes it just a BIT better." people are more forgiving of this when it's something universally true or acceptable, or when it's very funny. if it's not (and even if it is, sometimes,) there'll potentially be a reblog down the line making fun of it (and this is another person in the theater standing up and making a fart noise, regardless of how tasteless or rude.) it's never actually "wrong" to add comments on a reblog unless you're being intentionally hurtful, and it's normal to add commentary to a friend's post, but even then, people seeing this from the outside may see that as obnoxious and impolite and try to call you on it anyway. (people are very weird about enforcing what they see as a universal rule of etiquette, when this is admittedly the only site where you'll be punished for adding to the discussion.)

and again, this is an absolutely arbitrary rule because what one person finds universally true and hilarious, another will find trite and stupid and too niche. the polite thing to do in the case of the latter is just reblog from further up the chain than the commenter, but people aren't always nice when they're annoyed.

getting to your actual question now, comments in the tags are a way to leave remarks that you DON'T want to shout to the whole theater. these are you whispering to yourself or your friend, or writing in a guestbook on the way out. people can see/hear it if they go looking for it, but you're not shouting over the performance to get your piece out. it's polite because it's unobstructive and doesn't take up space, and if your tags don't make sense to someone else or seem too niche, they don't have to share the post with your commentary attached.

adjacent to this, "peer review" or screenshotting someone's tags to insert them in the post is like if you did whisper to your friend, then your friend wrote your comments on a whiteboard and held it up for others to see. as this is a form of commentary within the reblog, it's again subject to an arbitrary universal/niche rule. just because a tag gets peer reviewed doesn't mean it's beyond reproach by strangers.

also in line with this general line of thought experiment, blazing a post means that between acts, you run up on the stage and start shouting your piece. it is, once again, going to be more acceptable to strangers to see you do this if it's something universally funny, true, or cute. this is why niche fandom posts, vent posts, and self promotions get ignored or booed down, while pet birthday photos and silly jokes get blazed and get a lot of notes regardless.

lastly, a kungpowpenis is when twelve+ individuals from the audience get up and beat the shit out of the person performing on stage and leave their corpse on display in the town square.

[lvrcpid]

wind flower - avatar cast!

includes: gn!reader. fluff FLUFF FLUFF. use of y/n. this was on the forefront of my mind so it’s kinda half assed LMAO. the interview isn’t really in depth.

imagine being apart of the avatar cast and doing an interview with them!

background info!

you were a famous childhood actor. you’ve been obsessed with the idea of being on the big screen since you were 7. luckily enough your parents let you go through with it and you were a big hit! landing shows like greys anatomy, my babysitters a vampire and movies like adventures in babysitting and diary of a whimpy kid.

with age comes venturing out of certain genres. when you turned 18 you ventured into more mature shows and movies. you stared in shows like euphoria, grown-ish, bridgerton and now at 21, your first movie, avatar : the way of water.

when you got the call back for your audition you were bouncing practically through the roof. you loved avatar as a kid and wanted to become an avatar yourself. this was like a dream come true for you.

when you met the cast you were over the moon, they were all so sweet and welcoming. the energy while filming was one you could get used to, especially considering you had 3 more movies to film in the avatar universe.

when you guys wrapped up filming you were really sad but looked forward to the interviews you all could do together! your manager called you and told you that you all were to do an interview with buzzfeed. it wouldn’t be your first rodeo with them.

enough chitchat, let’s get into the interview!

“hi buzzfeed! we’re the cast of avatar: the way of water and we’re here today to answer some questions while playing with puppies!!” you spoke looking to the camera with a smile as you watched the puppies run over everyone’s legs.

(yes i did that buzzfeed interview type cause it’s SO CUTE)

after playing with the puppies for a second it was time for everyone to introduce themselves. you were last and gave a small smile as you waved to the camera “hi im (y/n)(l/n) and i play (c/n)” you said as you picked up a puppy and held it in your arms.

a few questions later and it got to you. you grabbed the piece of paper and read it out loud “who is your character and how would you describe them.” you looked over to bailey who busted out laughing as you did the same. “bailey is such a hater! that’s why i hope the dog pees on you!” you laughed and turned to the camera. “ well i play (c/n), he/she’s jake and neytiri’s oldest son/daughter about 2 years older than neteyam” you pointed to jamie “and how i would describe him/her-“ “sassy!” jack spoke up. “a raging ball of fire” trinity chimed in “i feel so attacked and im mad they’re right!” everyone busted out laughing.

after a few more answers the interview was coming to a close and the director at buzzfeed wanted everyone to give their opinion on the movie and what to look forward to.

“for me” you started “i would say the movie is really about family that’s the biggest component. it touches on a lot of familiar undertones that you really don’t see in a lot of movies like we get to see jake sully as a dad you know” you shifted in your seat before speaking again. “it’s a really good movie that james cameron worked really hard on as well as the cast and everyone behind the scenes and im really excited for everyone to watch it” you smiled as you grabbed another puppy.

“you guys want me to do it- okay fine- thank you to buzz feed! and thank you to these little adorable puppies who are available for adoption if you want a furry companion to watch the movie with. thank you guys again and make sure to go watch avatar: the way of water out in theaters now!! bye!!!” you snuggled the dog before smiling again. the interview coming to a close.

“just so you know. the dog did pee on me.” bailey pulled you to the side and you fell out DYING LAUGHING.

a.n // staring at my inbox while writing this. I PROMISE IM WRITING THEM GUYS im just proof reading a few rn and scheduling them to post okay bye love you mwah

[dreamersparacosm]

austin butler - clumsy

warnings ; none

prompt ; in which your celebrity crush causes you to become a flustered, blubbering mess.

a/n ; a little something fun i wrote during the fall but never published! it’s basically anxious!reader and honestly how I imagine myself reacting to meeting aus so enjoy xoxo

Okay, don’t panic.

Do not panic.

It’s just a man. A man with blonde, curly locks, blue eyes, over 6 feet tall… but still, a man. Nothing special. You could probably find ten of him walking down Rodeo Drive.

Except that’s probably not true either.

It is Austin Butler, after all.

You hike the tail of your dress higher as you descend up the stairs to the red carpet, inhaling as much oxygen as possible to tame your nerves. It does nothing for you beside provide a placebo effect of calmness. Your publicist, Jane, stands next to you with her eyebrows furrowed in permanent worry, a crinkle she’s had since the day she took you on. “[Y/N], did you get a chance to look at your seating arrangement?”

“Uh, no, not yet,” You respond slowly, wincing slightly as you brace yourself for her reaction. She sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose before turning towards you.

“You know what, that’s fine, sweets. Just go stand on the carpet so we can take these pictures,” She goes back to her clipboard full of tedious things like timing and interviewers and stupid seating arrangements, and you’re trying to stay focused, but how can you do that when Austin Butler is standing 8 feet away from you, posing on the red carpet?

You’re pretty sure you’re drooling.

Whoever keeps leaving his shirts unbuttoned is a menace to society and needs to be locked away for endangerment to the general public.

This whole idiotic schoolgirl crush began relatively long ago, when he was still deeply in love with Vanessa Hudgens and playing a teen heartthrob on The Carrie Diaries. You weren’t even famous at that point, just a mediocre commercial actress trying to get her big break. Once you finally booked your first big role, the crush faded away (only the tiniest amount) but that all came crashing down like an avalanche when you saw Elvis with your best friend.

They probably could’ve posted the entire movie on a porn website and made the same amount of money. And, thus, your crush ensued, full throttle and invading your every thought at the worst moments. Including this one.

Jane kicks the back of your leg, cursing under her breath as you tear your eyes away from him. You’re not new to this scene, you’ve been in major leading roles and you’ve been nominated for Oscars. But that doesn’t take away from the fact that at your core, you are a complete and utter mess. A klutz. A loser with some money in the bank.

So, you take the pictures, with not too many mistakes as you expected, just a few shots of you blinking while smiling. You’re sure they’ll end up on Twitter where your fans will laugh about it while saying how much they love you.

This part always goes by fast. It’s camera flashes, smiles that are strained under the bright lights, talks with interviewers that always go far longer than expected, and then before you know it, you’re being ushered into a tight room with celebrities you had only dreamed of seeing in real life. Jane is glued to your side as you wait for your turn to enter the theater.

Despite the cool temperature of Los Angeles, you’re somehow drenched in sweat. You’ve done this before, you know that. But that doesn’t stop your entire body from going into fight or flight mode, teetering towards flight.

“What’s the hold up?” You hear a female’s voice yell out, and you almost think it’s Jane before you hear her chuckle beside you.

“Speak that truth. I am so sick of these fucking Oscars dimwits wasting my time,” Jane says loudly enough for the girl to hear it, and before you know it, they’re enthralled in a full-blown conversation. If you weren’t trying to fan your armpit sweat, you might’ve joined.

Maybe it’s a good idea to find out where you’re sitting. Probably will need to know that before you enter. You can only assume they’ll sit you next to your last co-star, Timothee Chalamet. What a delight that would be (and that’s not sarcasm, he always smells like cashmere and some type of forest.)

You turn your body slightly, eyeing Jane and the girl she’s talking to. She’s a redhead, also wearing a suit and clearly another publicist that has been in the position for far too long to enjoy it.

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice a male figure standing next to the redhead. Hm. A black suit. Your eyes trail over his body, a soft black lace shirt that is half-unbuttoned peeking over the hem. How nice. You love that look on men.

Oh, fuck.

Oh, fuck.

Your body freezes. Mouth runs dry. Sweat shrivels back up into your body only to start forming at impossible speeds. Heart palpates so quickly you think you might be going into cardiac arrest.

In front of you, is Austin Butler. And he completely, totally, entirely, caught you checking out his entire body, head to toe.

There’s a smirk on his face that is undeniably directed towards you, eyes glimmering with amusement. You can’t even believe that you’re looking directly at him. He can’t be real, he has to be a figment of your imagination.

“Come here often?”

You did not just speak.

No, you didn’t. That couldn’t have been real. That couldn’t have been what you just said. After years of dreaming about this moment, that can’t have been what your brain and tongue agreed on.

He chuckles, a deep one that rumbles through his chest, and says, “I try not to make it a habit. You?”

You entangle your fingers with each other, hoping the sweat that has gathered on them just slides right off. “Me either. Trying to cut down on my presence and all that.”

He raises his eyebrows quizzically, that soft smile that curves upon his lips widening a little, “Well, can’t say the Oscars is the best place to do that.”

“Yes, well…” You trail off. Thoughts empty. Brain just a shallow void with nothing but dirty, filthy fantasies about him floating around. Oh god, get a grip.

And he should end the conversation right there, then back around and not acknowledge the weird girl who clearly hasn’t had enough media training. But, he doesn’t. Instead, he sticks out his hand for you to shake, and says, “I’m Austin. Austin Butler.”

“I know,” You say almost immediately. His facial expression contorts into something unreadable, and your lips flap again to try and salvage the rest of your dignity. “I’m [Y/N].”

You shake his hand, praying to some otherworldly creature above that he won’t feel the sweat on your hands. It’s a little weird, when you touch his hand. Feels like you’re envisioning yourself with him, like you’re some kind of wizard that can tell it won’t be the last time you see him. It feels a little like something out of a rom-com, with the electricity zap and the sounds of your hearts beating erratically.

You both pull your hands away, smiling to the ground. You really, really, really hope he’ll keep talking to you.

“Nervous?” He asks, taking note of the way your thumbs twiddle and the sidestep you keep doing with your heels.

“A little. Kinda. Maybe,” You let out a sigh of relief. “I’m not really the most organized.”

“Hm. Well, I’m sure you’ll be great,” His grin widens just enough to show off his pearly white teeth that glimmer under the remaining sunlight that California has to offer.

“Thanks,” You smile back. “How about you? Nervous?”

“Always,” He responds, almost taken aback by the transparency he’s having with another celebrity. He’s never had a conversation about nerves, never felt validated enough by someone to open up about the fear that comes along with being at this level of fame. “It’s my first Oscars.”

“Right,” You say, “Well, I’ve been to a few, and honestly, I’ll let you in on a secret. Even Leonardo DiCaprio shits himself a little when the nominees are announced.”

He lets out a laugh, a real one, one that sounds like all good things in the world and you would be more than happy to capture it in a jar and keep it on your bedside forever. “Somehow, I don’t doubt that,” He switches gears, shifting his body around a little. “What afterparty are you going to?”

It’s a simple question, one you’ve been asked numerous times by other people in the industry. It usually offers a sense of dominance over who got the better invite. “Er, yes, that would be a question for my lovely publicist, Jane, because I don’t have a rat’s ass idea of where I’m supposed to go.”

He laughs. Again. Part of you is enthralled, part of you is confused as to why he thinks you’re a comedy show. Maybe he thinks you’re a joke. Yes, that makes good sense. “That honestly makes me feel better because I don’t really know where I’m going either,” He admits.

“Are you kidding?” You ask incredulously. “You look like that and you don’t know where you’re going? I think the President of the Academy Awards has a personal invite waiting for you.”

Okay, maybe you shouldn’t have said that. But really, it has to be blamed on the fact that there are a swarm of murderous bees flying around in your stomach that are making you feel woozy.

His cheeks turn a crimson glow, “Like that?”

“Oh, you know…” You trail, slowly laughing to brush off the fact that you basically just admitted your undying love to him. “Just…. That’s a great black shirt. I’m gonna buy one for my brother.”

His lips curve upwards a little more, blue eyes sparkling like little oceans. “Thanks. And, you know, you don’t look bad yourself.”

You blink twice. Did he just say that?

Before you even whip up a flirty comment, or even a funny one that’ll have him doubling over in laughter and proposing to you by tonight, you feel Jane gripping your forearm tightly. “Stop dicking around, [Y/N]. We need to go in.”

“Right, yes, totally,” You smile awkwardly over to Austin, and he returns it. You feel soft and warm and glowy inside, like you might levitate off the floor.

And then you really are levitating off the floor, because your feet miss the step and you’re falling before you even have a chance to stop yourself. Your arm extends to try and delay your inevitable fall, but it doesn’t work and you’re really sprawled out. Immediately, Jane rushes down to try and drag you up, hurriedly asking if you’re okay.

You nod slightly, balancing yourself on your knees. Thankfully, you think the vast majority of people have entered the theater and missed out on your embarrassment of epic proportions.

Well, maybe not everyone.

Suddenly, like a light peeking from beyond the clouds, you see an outstretched hand to your right. It’s tan, a male’s hand for sure. You look up to see who could possibly be nice enough to help you up. Maybe it’s God telling you it’s time to pass away.

It’s Austin. And he has a really worried look on his face that you’re shocked by, but his expression falters once he sees the look on your face. You’re smiling, a real big goofy one, because it’s so ridiculous and he’s so ridiculous and you’re pretty sure one of your heels is broken.

You place your hand in his, and his other hand wraps around your waist to help you up and steady yourself against him. Once you’re finally standing, he grins, leaning into your ear, “Remember, even Leonardo DiCaprio shits himself at the table.”

You don’t even realize his arm is still wrapped around your waist until you notice the absence of it. You giggle lightly, biting your lip. “Of course. And I think I saw Brad Pitt throw up in the bathroom last year.”

“Austin, we gotta go,” His publicist grabs his hand, and you feel a pang of disappointment. You almost think he does too, his blue eyes turning grayish as he looks back at her.

“Right,” He clears his throat. “Well, good luck tonight, [Y/N]. I hope you win.”

“You too,” The smile on your face is probably permanently tattooed on. You feel Jane’s hand on your back, slowly moving you away from him although your feet beg to stay.

“Oh, and [Y/N]?” You turn back around to face him, “Big fan of your work.”

With that, he turns away with his publicist to go and find his seat amongst the crowd. You watch him disappear, an indescribable feeling washing over your entire body. You’re also being whisked away to your table, greeted by familiar faces and friends. But it’s pretty clear that’s not the reason why you’re smiling.

Some part of your brain decides on one thing: this won’t be the last time you see him.

▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓

You decide that you like California. Not a whole lot, but enough to make you sign a contract for a new film. Normally, you believe that Los Angeles and all its surrounding cities are a dreadful structure that encapsulates all the worst features of privileged Southern California lifestyle. But the food is undeniably tasty, and your new apartment is decorated with high ceilings and well-lit rooms, so you’ll make do. You’ll be filming in sunny Calabasas, where the houses are painted a perfect shade of white, where time stills a little and every cloud is just the right amount of fluffy.

The Oscar’s had came and went, and you won, to no one’s surprise but your own. With that accomplishment came offers. People really, truly wanted to work with you, and although it baffled you, Jane was having the time of her life coordinating auditions and interviews.

Everything was truly perfect.

You flip through the pages of your fresh script, your manicured nails turning through the warm pages, the black ink bleeding onto the sheets. Jane sits across from you, feverishly scribbling something, negotiating your pay for your new film. She’ll deliver. In the end, she always does.

She hangs up her call, sighing from relief. You’re about to ask her how it went, if you got the price you wanted, before her phone blares again with that god awful ringtone she refuses to change. She answers it, a cheerful tone in her voice, “Kate? So good to hear from you! What’s going on?”

You tune out of her conversation, focusing your eyes back on the mass of paper in front of you. A new story to be told. A new character to embody. A new chapter of your life. It’s all very emotional and sappy and you almost want to cry tears of happiness, but you’ll save that for later, once you get home and crack open a bottle of wine.

You hear Jane place her phone down, and your eyes flicker back up to her. There’s an expression on her face that’s unreadable, and you’re unsure of how to process it. Oh, no. If you didn’t get the price you wanted, that would suck. Or, maybe you did and she’s just unsure on how to process emotion. You always thought she was a robot.

“I just had the weirdest phone call,” She finally speaks, scratching her forehead quizzically.

“What’s up?” You ask mindlessly, certain she’s going to tell you something personal like her cousin getting married to a farmer.

“That was Austin Butler’s publicist. She said he’s been asking about you since the Oscars.”

There’s no fucking way. She’s pranking you. Any second now, Ashton Kutcher is going to pop out behind the doorframe and say “You’ve been Punk’d!” and then maybe he’ll also bring out Austin to further your embarrassment.

“Excuse me?” You blink.

“Yeah,” She seems just as baffled as you are. “She said he’s been trying to find a way to get in contact with you, but turns out, you guys don’t have a lot of mutual friends.”

Well, that makes sense.

She continues on, “Anyway, she gave me his number and then said he wants to ask you on a date. So, do with that what you will.”

She unlocks her phone, slides it across the table to you, and you see a phone number typed into her notes. Your hand trembles as you pick up the iPhone, copying the number into your own contacts. You feel woozy, just like you did on that red carpet, just like you did the moment you locked eyes with him.

“Right, well,” You clear your throat. “I’ll just step outside and call him real quick.”

She nods, raising one eyebrow. There’s a small grin that appears on her lips, a knowing one, and you slide out the door into the hallway.

You don’t know what comes over you, or what demon compels you, but you click the number. You hear the ring. There’s a pause. Your heart drops as you think that he might not answer.

And then you hear him. His voice.

“Hello?”

“Uh, h-hi. Hi. This is, um, [Y/N]. Your publicist gave me your number.”

It almost sounds ridiculous.

“[Y/N]. You know, I’ve been trying to get ahold of you but turns out you’re not an easy person to reach,” You can hear the smile in his voice.

“Well, you know me and my presence. All time low,” You say sarcastically, and he chuckles.

“Right. Well, congratulations on your win. Very well-deserved,” His voice is deeper than you remember. There’s a slight desire that pools between your legs for a moment before you snap yourself back into reality.

“You too. Some would call it the performance of the year,” And you can’t even believe it’s happening. You’re really flirting with him.

“Thank you,” He says so softly, so charming. He’s always grateful and humble, and it makes you even more attracted to him. If that’s even possible at this point. “So, do you think there’s a chance you would allow me to take you out to dinner? Somewhere lowkey, you know, for your presence and all?”

The question is so unbelievable that you can’t even take it in. You make a few sounds, splutter over your words and trip over them like you did your own two feet at the Oscars. Your heartbeat travels up to your eardrum, pounding with every ounce of blood that travels through you. “U-uh, umm… well, you know, let me go ahead and check my schedule.” There’s a pause. You cover the reciever and scream a silent yell into the void, jumping a few feet high.

Clearing your throat, you say, “Hm. Seems like I’m free tomorrow.”

“You can’t do tonight?”

The question takes you aback. Surely, he can’t be asking that because he wants to see you. “Oh, why? Are you leaving California tomorrow?”

“Not at all,” You hear him shuffle. “I just really want to take you out.”

“Right, yes, of course.” You let his question hang in the air. You know your answer, but you like letting him think there’s a possibility you might reject him.

“I am free tonight.”

“Great,” His voice is upbeat, a newfound excitement peeking through. “Well, text me your address. I’ll send a car to pick you up.”

“Yup, totally. Super duper cool. Looking really forward to it,” You babble on, pacing the hallway you’ve trapped yourself in.

He lets out a low laugh, “Me too. I’ll see you tonight. Bye, [Y/N].���

You say your goodbyes, leaning against the wall for stability before you collapse into a puddle. Later, a janitor might come to find your lifeless body glued to the wall. Cause of death? Man built like a Greek god asks woman on date.

But, everything is fine. You’ll somehow make it.

There’s a ridiculous feeling in your heart, a warmth that spreads to your toes and fingers. Now, everything is perfect.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

masterlist + request

[supernovafics]

𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐁𝐄𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 5.3k words

summary: in which during the summer of ‘84 steve visits family in chicago and meets you at a record store. the two of you immediately have a sort of pull towards one another and decide to start something that’s only meant to be a summer fling. as the end of summer nears, you realize that you may be in way too deep, and you take a step back from it all. however, maybe things can actually work out in the end for you two? or maybe not

warnings: explicit language, implied smut, some fluff, a lot of angst

author’s note: very much inspired by the song “end of beginning” by djo (the entire decide album fully makes me wanna sell my soul lmao) this started out as such a small idea and then somehow expanded to being over 5k words…. hope you enjoy! lol ((already working on a part two so don’t hate me for how this ends :0))

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

It was pretty obvious that you were avoiding Steve like the plague. Phone calls to your home were left unanswered, messages from him that were relayed to you by your parents were left unresponded to, and when he showed up at your house looking for you, you told your parents to tell him that you weren’t home. 

However, if anyone were to call you out on your current behavior, you would deny it. 

Because technically, everything was completely fine between you and Steve.

There was no defining moment that made you start avoiding him. In fact, the day before you stopped talking to him, the two of you had spent the night watching a movie at the tiny old theater in the next town over. Well, actually, “watching” was an overstatement because you two mainly did other things that did not involve really paying attention to the two-hour movie. 

And although that entire night had been good, great even, you still spent the next three days avoiding Steve. It was an impulsive decision, but it was also one that you knew, or at least felt like, was the right one.  

You were starting to like him too much, and that concerned you because he was leaving Chicago in less than a week to go back to Indiana, which meant that what you and he had going on was going to be over. 

It was a fact that both of you were well aware of and had agreed upon at the start of the summer. 

However, as it got closer to that date, the thought of actually having to let him go and end things felt painful. Therefore, you decided that the “going cold turkey” idea was the best way to protect yourself. And although a part of you missed Steve, you forced yourself not to think about him. 

However, it turned out that not thinking about someone was much easier to do when they weren’t standing right in front of you, which Steve currently was. 

Now that you truly thought about it, you could see that it was only a matter of time before he showed up at your job. The record store was where you met him in the first place, and he practically knew your schedule as if it were his own since he had picked you up at the end of almost all of your shifts for the past month and a half. 

Your mind and heart felt conflicting things at this specific moment. As much as your heart wanted to see him, your mind knew that he was only making things harder. A tearful, heartbreaking goodbye was what you truly wanted to avoid. 

It was then that you wished that the store was much more crowded than it actually was because since there was barely anyone browsing around, it made it easy for Steve to walk up to the front counter, which you stood behind.

“Can we talk?” He asked, and instead of meeting his gaze, you busied yourself with grabbing the Hall and Oates vinyl that someone was going to buy, but ultimately decided not to, and moving to place it back on its rightful shelf. 

“There’s nothing to talk about,” You ultimately told him, still evading his eyes and beginning to pick through the shelf even though there wasn’t anything to organize or fix on it. 

“I think there’s a lot to talk about, actually.”

You finally looked at him, and when you saw the look on his face that was a mix of confusion and sadness, for a moment, you finally felt bad for not talking to him and giving him no explanation as to why. 

“I have to do some stocking in the back,” You told Steve, knowing that he would be able to easily read between the lines of what you said. 

He knew exactly what that “code” meant, but with what had happened the last few days he wasn’t sure if he should follow you to the back room. The last time the two of you had been there was a week ago, and in Steve’s mind, things were much clearer then, than what they were like now. 

You placed a bell and sign on the counter that said, “Ring if you need help,” and then began heading to the back. When Steve didn’t start following you, you looked at him. “You coming?”

He gave you a small nod and finally moved, following you the few feet to the room that said Employees Only. He softly shut the door behind you both, and you flicked on the light switch that turned on the one light bulb hanging in the middle of the room that did almost nothing to provide the space with any light. 

Maybe coming back here wasn’t the best idea because being in the place that surprisingly held pretty fond memories of you and Steve made it feel way too easy to fall back into the dynamic you’d become so used to with him. It almost felt like second nature to slot your lips against his in the barely lit room, and you really wished you could allow yourself to do it. 

“Where have you been these past couple of days?” Steve asked, pulling you out of your conflicting thoughts.

A silence lingered for a brief moment as you thought of what to say in response to that. Ultimately, you settled with, “I’ve been… busy.”

“I leave in four days,” He said, reminding you of a fact you truly wanted to forget about. His face softened, and you had to pull your eyes away from his. “Is there any way you can be not busy?”

“The fact that you’re leaving in four days is exactly why I’ve been making myself busy,” You muttered, but Steve heard you clearly. 

A confused look crossed his face.“What do you mean?”

A small sigh fell from your lips, and it was funny because, at that moment, you wanted to tell him nothing but also everything circling your mind. “I– I know what we agreed on at the beginning of the summer, but it’s just… I don’t know. It just feels so hard now? In the beginning, it was so easy, and I honestly liked that we had an “expiration date” set for this, but it all just feels so different now. Because I can feel myself liking you way too much, and I simultaneously love and hate that because you’re the first person I’ve ever truly liked. But you’re leaving, so obviously, I can’t allow myself to like you too much because I would be an idiot if I did, and I would just end up hurting more than I already do right now. And the thought of having to say goodbye to you makes me actually wanna throw up.” 

You knew that you were rambling at that point and that you should stop because what you were saying probably wasn’t making a lot of sense. But Steve had always been insanely easy to talk to, so it was pretty understandable why you were word-vomiting all over him. “So yeah, that’s why I’ve been avoiding you like the plague for the past few days, and I would’ve continued if you hadn't shown up here.”

During the entirety of your ramble, your eyes were looking everywhere except for Steve, and when you finally let your gaze land on him, you noticed a certain look on his face. “Why the hell are you smiling right now?”

Your incredulous tone only somehow made Steve smile wider. “Because for the past three days, I thought you hated me for some reason. But now I know it’s the exact opposite.”

“Honestly, I wish I hated you,” You told him. The statement was mostly a lie. “It would make things so much easier for me.”

“Well, I’m really glad you don’t,” He said softly and moved a bit closer to you, placing his hands on either side of your waist. 

You almost leaned into his touch, as you’d done what felt like a million times before, but you refrained from doing so and instead backed up a bit. “Steve…”

You could feel yourself slowly falling back down that hole of wanting him, and although it was a path that could only lead to heartbreak, your motivation to push him away and never talk to him again was declining. 

Still, you managed to find your voice at that moment. “You should go.”

Steve disregarded your words because he could hear how much you didn’t mean them and instead asked a question of his own. “Am I really the first person you ever really liked?”

You could feel your heart hammering in your chest, and you suddenly felt annoyed by all of your previous honesty. But you also wanted to roll your eyes at the question because Steve knew the answer; he knew pretty much everything about you. “You know how I was before we started this.”

For most of your life, you had always been completely content with being alone romantically and having only a handful of friends you loved and would die for. There was never anyone that made you want to step out of the bubble you created for yourself. Somehow Steve was the exception. 

However, the immediate pull you felt toward him wasn’t enough to change you. Instead, it was your best friend Vanessa, who also worked at the record store, that noticed how you were around Steve and gave you the much-needed nudge to actually attempt to pursue something with him. Because just the idea of you having feelings for him had felt utterly foreign to you. 

“You randomly came into the picture and changed everything for me. And I think I’ll probably always be grateful for that,” You said after a brief stretch of silence. “But, I can’t allow myself to see you again after we leave this room. It’s too fucking hard for me.”

In the beginning, you convinced yourself that a situation like this couldn’t lead to heartbreak because of the fact that the ending was set. However, now you thought that maybe that made things worse because everything you felt for Steve was still right there, and it also wasn’t gonna go away any time soon. 

“I don’t wanna end things.” 

“Me neither, but you leave in four—”

“I don’t want this to be over,” He interrupted you. “I want to make it work with us when I go back.” 

You were rendered speechless for a brief moment at his words. Too many things started running through your mind, and although your immediate thought was to let yourself smile at his statement, there was a question that you knew you needed to ask. “What about Nancy?” 

Her name felt foreign on your lips because, for the entire summer, you kept her pushed to the back of your mind. 

Steve told you about her, and the fact that they were on a break for the summer, once you and he grew closer, which was something that happened insanely fast. And that was where the arrangement between you two started. 

Nancy was a big reason why you now saw the “summer fling” you agreed on with Steve as doomed from the start. 

The life Steve was living with you while he was in Chicago for the summer wasn’t his real life. He was always, always going to go back to Indiana and pick things up right where he and his girlfriend had left them off.

That is what you kept telling yourself, and that upsetting thought only aided in your need to avoid him for his last week in Chicago. Maybe that assumption was wrong, though. 

“I’ve barely thought about her the entire summer,” Steve said, and you could hear the honesty dripping from his words. “And when I have, it’s only been about how to end things for good with her because I only want to be with you.” 

His words contradicted everything you convinced yourself of, and you didn’t know how to respond to that. Your mind was running in a million different directions, allowing no coherent sentences to form. The only thing you could say at that moment was, “Oh?”

“Yes, and I know that we’ll be able to make this work,” Steve began explaining, and you forced your mind to shut off for a moment and solely listen to him. “We’ll both be seniors, so our schedules with school won’t be too bad, and we probably won’t have a shit ton of classes. Also, the drive is only three hours, which will be like five for you to do since you’re a bad driver, but that’s still not too crazy. I’ll happily drive up here most weekends. And then there are the holidays too.”

For the first time since the conversation with Steve started, you smiled. Not at the bad driving comment; in fact, you gave him a light shove for saying that. But, it was endearing hearing how certain he was of the fact that the two of you could actually make things work, even though you’d be in two different states.

“You’ve been thinking about this a lot, huh?” You asked, a smile still planted on your face as you shifted closer to him and let your arms circle loosely around his neck. 

His hands found their rightful place on your waist and squeezed lightly. “Yes, and I wanted to say it that night at the movies, but you just wanted to make out with me the entire time, so it was hard to get a serious word out.” 

You could hear the jokiness in his tone, but you still rolled your eyes. “Oh, shut up. You were the one that initiated it right when the lights went low, and the previews started.”

“And then you just couldn’t get enough of me, baby,” He said before fully closing the space between you two and slotting his lips against yours. 

You had wanted to laugh at his previous words or give your own sarcastic comment back, but you let all of that melt away, and instead, you simply kissed him back; something that had been done many times in that back room. 

One of Steve’s hands was cupping your cheek while the other slipped under the t-shirt you were wearing, and feeling his cool hand against your warm skin sent a slight shiver down your spine. Your hands found a home in his hair, and you loved hearing the low groan erupt from his throat when you gave it a light tug. 

The two of you were so lost in the kiss and making up for the time lost since you hadn’t seen each other in days, that neither of you heard the door open or saw Vanessa open it.  

“Y/N, what do–” The rest of her question stopped short when she saw the two of you. She had known that you had been avoiding Steve for the past few days but refrained from calling you out. However, at that moment, she gave you a look that said, “You better explain everything when we’re alone,” and you gave her a small nod before shutting your eyes in embarrassment. Surprisingly, in the many times you’d brought Steve back there, something like this had never happened before. “Oh, um, sorry to interrupt… this. As you were.”

The door softly clicked shut, and when Steve leaned in to kiss you again, you immediately pulled back, detaching yourself from him and letting your hands fall limp at your sides. Your body was on fire at that moment, but you refrained from doing anything about it.

“Nope. No more of this right now,” You told him. The embarrassment from the situation had yet to wear off and allow you to continue kissing him, even though you had been thoroughly enjoying it. “I’ll see you tonight, though?”

“You’re not gonna start avoiding me again?” Steve asked, and you knew he was mostly kidding, but you could also hear a tad bit of seriousness behind his words, which made sense to you. However, things were completely different now. You actually surprisingly felt hopeful about what was to come instead of dreading the next four days before he left. 

You looked up at him and leaned in to press a quick kiss to his lips. “Never.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

It wasn’t surprising that you were the first one to wake up. For some reason, your body would never allow you to sleep too far past nine o’clock, no matter what you’d done the night before. 

You carefully detangled yourself from Steve’s warm body, not wanting him to wake up just yet, and headed to your bathroom. Once you finished brushing your teeth and showering, you slipped the grey t-shirt that Steve had shown up in last night back on your body because you loved how it looked and felt on you. 

When you walked back into your room, you mentally saved the image of Steve in your bed. It wasn’t the first time you’d snuck him into your room, but it would be the last for a while. And you were glad that your parents were gone for the weekend at some business conference so that you didn’t even have to sneak him in this last time. 

Steve looked peaceful, and you didn’t want to have to wake him, but it was his last day in Chicago, and you wanted to make every hour count before he left that night. 

You slipped back into the bed and faced him on his side. You ran a hand through his hair and pressed soft kisses on both of his cheeks, his nose, and then his forehead before finally landing on his lips. 

He was surprisingly quick to kiss you back, and you smiled, which allowed Steve to deepen the kiss further before he abruptly pulled back. “Mm, minty.”

“I wish I could say the same for you,” You joked, and he immediately poked your side, which made you laugh. You leaned in to kiss him again to show him that you really didn’t care about his morning breath.

Steve’s hand trailed under your, his, t-shirt and began rubbing your bare side in small circles. You sighed contently into the kiss at the feeling of his warm touch, and you wanted to move even closer to him, but you had to force yourself to pull away before things moved further, as they had last night.

You pushed some of his hair away from his eyes, and then your hand lingered on his cheek. “You leave tonight.”

He gave you a small nod. “Yeah.”

“So, we need to get up now,” You told him. “I have a lot of things I wanna do with you today.”

Steve let out a soft groan before turning his head a bit so that he could kiss the inside of your palm. “Why can’t we just do more of this?”

“Because I want to be disgustingly cheesy and sentimental with you today and just drive around and go to a bunch of the places we’d always go to this summer.”

He smiled at your words. “You’re never cheesy and sentimental.”

“You bring out this cute side of me, Harrington,” You told him and pressed a quick kiss to his nose. “Also, I’m gonna force you to finally try deep dish from my favorite place.” 

“You’re evil,” He said before finally sitting up in the bed. His gaze suddenly shifted away from you and instead focused downward as he ran a nervous hand through his hair. “But, um, last night… Last night was good, right?”

You couldn’t help but smile at his sudden shyness. “Yes, very good.”

During that summer, you’d done everything else with him, so last night was kind of the final piece of the puzzle. It was honestly a bit surprising that it'd taken this long. And although you never necessarily cared too much about your virginity and losing it, you were glad that your first time had at least been with someone that you truly cared a lot about, and you knew he felt the same way toward you. 

“Okay, I just wanted to make sure,” Steve said with a nod as he continued to expertly avoid eye contact with you. “Because I know we���ve done a lot of stuff, but I just wanted to make sure that last night was good and everything, y’know? And that it was great for you and how you wanted it to be for your first time and–”

You stopped his rambling by pressing your lips against his. “I know. Everything was great, don’t stress. And I’d happily do it again with you right now if you weren’t leaving tonight and there wasn’t a bunch of other stuff I wanted to do with you today.”

He smiled at that and muttered out a soft “Okay,” before giving you a kiss on the cheek and getting out of bed to head to your bathroom. 

You slipped on a pair of dark denim jeans and your old pair of black Converses. When Steve exited the bathroom, you silently admired him and the fact that he was only currently in his boxers, and you resisted the urge to go up and wrap your arms around him and kiss him for what felt like the thousandth time that morning. 

“As great as you look in my t-shirt, I need it back,” He told you as he pulled on his jeans. 

You were quick to shake your head. “Nope, it’s mine now. But…” You walked over to your dresser and started rummaging through the second drawer until you found the band tee you were looking for. The shirt was pretty oversized on you, so you knew that it would more than likely fit Steve just fine. “You can borrow this.”

Steve slipped the shirt over his head. “This is also mine now. Although I do feel like a fraud since I’ve never listened to the band before.”

“If anyone asks your favorite song from them, just say, ‘Anything from their first album. I can’t decide which one,’” You said as you moved toward him, now allowing yourself to wrap your arms around his neck. 

“Got it,” He nodded and smiled as his arms circled around your waist. 

You pressed your lips against his, giving him a quick peck, before finally forcing the two of you to leave your house. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Although it was one of those days that you knew you’d remember forever, it saddened you how quickly it all flew by. 

From going back to the park where you and Steve played basketball during one of your first few hangouts with each other (and you surprisingly beat him, but you knew that he let you win) to laughing at how much he hated the deep dish pizza you finally convinced him to try. And then next thing you both knew, it was night, and you were sitting in the driveway of the house he and his family had been staying at for the summer. 

A comfortable silence that felt sad, at least on your end, lingered in the car as music softly played, and Steve held your hand in his lap and traced mindless circles on your palm. 

When he looked over at you, he intertwined your hand with his and pulled it up to his lips to kiss it. “Don’t have that look. Remember, this is only the end of the beginning. I know I’m leaving now, but we’ll have so much more time together. Once I’m back in Indiana, we’ll figure out the best time for us to see each other again, okay? You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

You smiled and laughed at his last statement before leaning over the center console and pressing your lips against his. The position was entirely uncomfortable, but at that moment, you didn’t care.

“I have something for you,” You told him when you pulled away and then reached into the backseat and grabbed the brown paper bag that you had been looking for, which was folded at the top to hide the contents inside. It was upsettingly the only thing in your house that could double as a last minute gift bag. 

Steve eyed the paper bag for a moment before his eyes lifted to yours. “You packed me lunch?”

“Shut up, no,” You said with a small laugh. “Just open it.” 

He unfolded the top of the bag and looked inside. His gaze met yours again for a brief moment before he pulled out the five cassette tapes that were inside the bag. “No, these are all your favorites.”

You could only smile at him. “Yes, I know and I’m not giving them to you, just letting you borrow them for the time being until I see you again. Mainly because you told me you never listened to these albums before, and I have a feeling you’ll like most of them. And when you do listen to them, you’ll think about me, which is a small plus.”

He placed the tapes back in the bag and then leaned in to kiss your cheek. “I’ll always be thinking about you. Also, I now feel like an idiot because I didn’t get you anything.”

“I don’t care. This was a last minute thing I thought of anyway,” You said with a small shrug. “But, I’m now expecting a really big gift when you come back.” You kissed his lips. “And I’m only slightly kidding.”

He laughed, and you smiled, wishing that you had a camera to take a picture of him and the two of you at that moment. It was that right time when the sun was starting to set and made everything look just perfect. You desperately wanted to have so many more perfect moments like that one with Steve, and the only thing that could curb your sadness at that moment was remembering the fact that, eventually, you would. 

You glanced at the time it said on the dashboard. “You should go before I get sad again, and I want this goodbye to end as happily as it can.”

Steve nodded and then leaned in to slot his lips against yours one more time. “See you soon.”

“See you soon,” You nodded back and watched as he opened the car door, grabbed the paper bag, and stepped out. “Wait.” 

You quickly got out on your side and rushed over to where he was now standing by the shut passenger side door, staring at you curiously. You wrapped your arms around him almost immediately, and Steve didn’t hesitate to hug you back and hold you tight against him. 

No words were said, mainly because no words needed to be said as you simply held each other and let the tender action speak for itself. Your eyes screwed shut, and you forced yourself not to cry because even though it felt like it, you knew that it wasn’t goodbye forever. 

You pushed up on your toes and kissed him for what you knew would be the final time for a while. It was a slow kiss that was long and drawn out, and you would’ve kept it going forever if it wasn’t for you needing to catch your breath after about a minute. 

“Okay, I just needed to do that real quick,” You told him, still pretty breathless.

“I’m really glad you did,” Steve said softly before pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

You returned to your car and watched as he gave you a wave and smile and then walked inside the house. You sat idly for a moment, simply looking at the red door he just stepped into and closed behind him, before forcing yourself to drive away. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Hours later, you were sat on the couch in your living room, mindlessly scrolling through television channels, unable to settle on anything, when you heard the phone ring. You almost didn’t answer because you weren’t necessarily in the mood to, but you decided against it when you realized it was probably your parents.  

“Hello?”

“Hi,” Steve said, and you could hear the smile in his tone. “We’re stopped at a gas station right now, and I just wanted to hear your voice real quick.”

“That’s very disgustingly cheesy and sentimental of you,” You told him, letting a smile take over your features. 

“You bring out this cute side of me, Y/L/N,” He said, and you laughed a bit. “Okay, I gotta go, my mom’s giving me a look. I’ll call you when I’m home.”

And when the phone rang a few hours later, around two in the morning, you were smiling as you answered it on only the second ring. You talked for over an hour about nothing but also everything, and the only thing that made either of you want to hang up was the fact that you both were insanely tired and could barely keep your eyes open. 

You both said your goodbyes, which lingered longer than expected because neither of you truly wanted to hang up. And finally, things ended with Steve saying, “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

That “tomorrow” call never came, and you let a week pass before you allowed yourself to get worried and nervous. It didn’t take long for you to want to start overthinking things, but you tried your hardest to refrain from doing so. However, you failed miserably. 

You called his house on the ninth day, and when the call connected, you immediately breathed out a sigh of relief. However, when a male voice that wasn’t Steve’s, and instead it was his dad’s, said, “Hello?” your immediate relief was wiped away. 

“Hi, is Steve home?” You asked. You were sat cross-legged on your bed and nervously playing with the phone cord. After a week of radio silence, you were essentially questioning everything that you had just felt so certain and sure of. Even though, when it came to Steve, you had almost never been nervous, right then, you truly couldn’t help it. 

“No, he’s out right now,” His dad answered, and you were about to simply say “Thanks” and then hang up, but you could hear the phone being pulled away a bit as if he was talking to someone else but still wanting to keep you on the line. “He’s out with Nancy, right? Was it this? Their third date this week?”

You assumed he was talking to his wife, Steve’s mom, and you couldn’t hear her response to his questions, but you knew it didn’t matter; you had heard everything you needed to, which was actually more than enough. You hung up without saying anything else, mainly because words couldn’t form in your throat right then. 

Although you’d never gotten in a fight with anyone, what you were feeling in that moment felt equivalent to a punch in the gut. You truly wanted to pretend that none of this was happening while simultaneously screaming and crying.

However, you didn’t do any of that because the only thing circling your mind right then was one of Steve’s final words to you. “Remember, this is only the end of the beginning.”

Turned out he was wrong and a liar; more so the second one. It wasn’t the end of the beginning for the two of you. Apparently, it was only just the end. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

let me know ur thoughts<333

(((part two here!)))

[nut4shuri]

DATING LETITIA WRIGHT🤍

HOW YOU MET

You are a well known Fasion Designer,and good friend of Ryan Coogler.(the director of wakanda forever)

He introduced you two together at the premiere of Black Panther.

And Talked about how Letitia was a big fan of fashion and how she should see some of your lines and workings.

Letitia already knew who you where tho,she talked about how she was a big fan and loved your workings.

ALL NIGHT SHE STARED AT YOU,NEVER BROKE EYE CONTACT AND AT ONE POINT SHE WAS EVEN CHECKING YOU OUT!!

She's always trying to make you laugh(she did the whole night)

You two talked all night and you even filmed one of her photo shoots and met once again because you where the costume designer for the Wakanda Forever Movie. (Not ryan tryna be Cupid in this bitch.🤣)

Dates

She takes you out a lot but not nun of the regular boring dinner dates.

She does cheesy shit like take you out on picnics,Camping and even took you to Nanuoya one of her favorite places to visit.

During dates you get nothing but princess treatment the whole day.. And all night of course.

She does not mind spending a band on you,Because anything her princess wants she gets.

She loves to pamper you with gifts and attention.

She knows you love the simple things so each time shes get she turns on the hot tub, brings out the roses and snacks and puts on a movie.

She loves taking you out of the city,and all over the world.

Getting yall nails done together is something yall do often.

She knows you love reading so she takes you on "library dates" often.

She loves peace and quiet so every now and then yall leave yall lives behind and fly out to different places.

Theater Dates All The Time.

She loves taking you cute photos while out on dates.

She buys you flowers all the time.

Shopping together is always a Promise.

Freaky Deakyy

As sweet and innocent as she looks,she's a freaky ass girl.

She never fails to make a freaky joke,no matter the conversation.

During interviews with you two she demands you to sit on her lap.

She loves making you cum in public,no matter the time or place.

She's definitely a Dom/Top but she does not mind you taking over every know and then but she knows you wont last long being a Top but she just lets you have fun.

She loves smacking your ass,she never misses out on an opportunity to smack that mf. Even in public.

She's a big EATER,and she swallows she loves to eat you out 24/7 and would do it for hours if you let her.

She loves to sit and watch you masturbate its very entertaning to her.

She also likes to buy lots of toys to use on you and one of her favorite things to do is handcuff you and eat you out.

She straps you down every day.

She hits it from the side,the back,the front,360,60 degree angle,34+35 ways..yall know.

And as little as she is shes strong as hell. She loves to pick you up and eat you out and strap you down against the wall.

Her favorite postiing is doggystyle cause she likes to pull your hair.

She keeps a pole in the middle of yall bed room..for personal reasons.

And in Oya,Balcony Sex Is Always a Thing.

Watching you work

Theres not a day where she dosent love to watch you work.

She loves how passionate you are about fashion and all of your dreams.

She loves your hard work and dedication and never lets you forget.

And when you doubt yourself she does not take a second to pull you over her legs and give you some repercussion.😏

She's very supportive of your dreams and always their for you even when she can't be.

When she's away on big days she calls every minute,every second of that day.

She helps around your warehouse and gives new ideas.

Shes always sad when she has to leave you but loves to watch you go.

She loves watching you model your outfits especially the bathing suit line.

Shes always talking about yall future and trying to better it.

Shes always lookin for better ways to communicate with you.

She tries to avoid making you angry or just not giving you your personal space.

(Because even though yall together its fundamental that yall give each other space from time to time.)

If yall get into an argument you both admit your wrongs and work it out.

She talks about yall future wedding a lot.

She talks about having kids and a dog,etc.

She knows you would be a part of her future weather yall are together or not.

so i tried..

[cevansbrat0007]

Handsy

Summary: Andy always seems to have trouble keeping his hands to himself during your movie nights...

Warnings: Smut, Andy Barber Being a Menace, Oral (fem rec), Wrestling, Edging, Over-stimulation, Funishments, Begging, Manhandling, Light Daddy Kink, Jealous Andy, Cursing, Bad Movie Titles, Questionable Actor Names, Minors DNI

A/N: Part of my ongoing Growing Pains Series. Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are appreciated. All mistakes are my own.

___

“C’mon, baby!” Andy shouts as he sets a bowl of popcorn on the living room coffee table. “You’ve had me waiting in here all by myself for almost an hour!”

“It hasn’t even been fifteen minutes.” You grumble as you wander into the room a few minutes later carrying two glasses. “And I brought you a little something too.” You go to hand him his before leaning down to place a sweet kiss on his soft, full lips. “Consider it a reward for all your patience.” 

“Fuck that.” Comes Andy’s husky growl as he places the drink next to the popcorn. “I need a little more of that sweetness right there.” He tries to capture your mouth again, only to get frustrated when you pull away. 

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing.” Poking your tongue out at him, you dance over to a nearby armchair. You take a moment to get settled, twisting your body in such a way so that your short legs are hanging over the side. 

“I repeat…” He peeks at you over the rim of glass as he takes a careful sip of the amber liquid, doing his best to keep it from sloshing over the side. “What are you doing?”

You shrug innocently. “Um, I’m about to watch a movie with my man. Now, stop playing and hit start already.” A light thrum of anticipation has you practically bouncing in your seat as you wait for the opening credits to roll. 

You’d been dying to see A Dark New World for ages – you had always been a sucker for a good alien invasion flick! 

“No.” 

You’re in the middle of reaching for your Shiraz when you hear him utter that one terrible word. 

No? What the hell did he mean, "no"?

“Andrew, sweetheart, please start the movie.” Pursing your lips, you cast him a sideways glance, attempting to gauge whether he’s being serious or not. 

“No.” Your man stubbornly grunts again before crossing his thick arms across his broad chest, prompting a low growl from you.

You’d already missed out on seeing this in theaters. And you would be damned before you’d allow yourself to be denied again whilst in your own home. Well, not “yours” technically, since you were spending the evening at Andy’s. 

But your man was really pushing for you to think of his place as being yours too. It had been almost impossible to miss the smile on his face the first time you had slipped up and accidentally referred to his space as “home”. 

That, however, was a story for another time. 

“Honey…please don’t do this to me right now. Because I can promise you that if I don’t see my favorite actor, Lloyd Evans-Drysdale, running across this screen” – you gesture at the television mounted on the opposite wall – “in the next five seconds, there will be hell to pay.”

Andy lifts one tawny brow in challenge. “I’m not doing a damned thing until you get your little ass over here where you, and it, belong.” He briefly uncrosses his arms long enough to pat his lap. 

Oh hell no! You weren’t falling for that one again.

“As inviting as that sounds, I’m afraid I’ll have to pass.” 

Maybe if you rushed him right now, you could take him by surprise and snatch the remote before he even knew what was happening.

As if anticipating your move, Andy slightly widens his stance, his palms coming to rest on his muscled thighs. “Why?” The impatient growl rumbles out from somewhere deep in his chest.  

“Oh, Andy Bear…” You offer him a strained smile as you begin to stretch, starting with the smallest, most unassuming poses you can manage so as to avoid arousing further suspicion. “I think we both know why.”

Okay, new plan. Obviously, you knew he’d already rented the film. And you had the login for his Amazon committed to memory. At this point, you weren’t above locking yourself in the bathroom and streaming the fucking thing on your phone. 

“I’m afraid I don’t.” Oops. Someone was beginning to sound awfully grumpy. 

“Ha!” A snort bubbles its way out of your throat before you can stop it. “You always get super handsy every time we try to watch something together. Yeah, I said it.”

Andy’s gorgeous blue eyes widen in surprise at your calling him out over his apparent inability to keep his hands to himself.  

“That’s right.” You continue as you stand up, ignoring the fact your man is growing increasingly unhappier by the second. “Happens every fucking time, buddy. You are an absolute menace. And normally I don’t mind, but this time Evans-Drysdale is involved, so…”

“Who even still gives a fuck about that guy?” He scoffs. “Thought he went and retired or some shit.”

You forgot just how touchy your boyfriend could be whenever you threw his fictional rival in the mix. In fact, you’d learned a long time ago that you were better off not even mentioning him at all. Especially not in bed.

Never ever mention Lloyd Evans-Drysdale while in bed with Andrew Barber. Because doing so might result with you being edged within an inch of your life. 

“I do!” You exclaim, suddenly feeling the need to defend the man who had, at one time, been the star of practically all of your fantasies – that is, until you’d met and fallen for your sweet Andy Bear. “And what’s not to love about him? He’s a great performer, he does all his own stunts, he loves dogs, and –” 

“And here I thought he was just some over-hyped actor who was allergic to shirts.” Andy mumbles into his bourbon before taking a drink. “My mistake.” His eyes you warily as you begin to approach him.

All you wanted was to get your hands on the fucking remote and put an end this madness!

“Big Man, can we please play the movie now? Pretty please?” You offer him your best pout as you reach out your hand, intending to swipe the controller from his grip. “With sugar on top?”

“Is this what you want?” Andy holds the device above his head, dangling it just out of reach. “This thing right here? 

“Gimme!” And then you lunge – letting out a rather impressive battle cry. 

But then the handsome bastard dodges, sending you crashing into his much bigger body.

“OOF!” You both grunt at the same time as the force of the impact sends you sprawling backwards on the couch in a tangled heap. Believing him to be stunned, you decide to embrace your inner spider monkey and shimmy your way up his torso. 

“I said gimme, damn it!” You hiss as the two of you continue to grapple for the remote. Out of instinct, and desperate for a win, your teeth find their way into his shoulder. And then you bite down.

Hard. 

“Ow!” You shriek when one of Andy’s hands manages to connect with your ass with a sharp crack.

You release him, only to do it again, this time digging your fingers into his side, pinching him with verve and vigor. 

“Fucking brat!” He snarls, flipping your positions as he expertly wrestles your flailing limbs. “Hold still before I – ouch! Stop fucking pinching me, little girl!”

Instead of responding, you go to hook your leg around his trim waist so that you can try to maneuver him on his back once more. But that quickly proves damn near impossible since you’re dealing with two hundred twenty-something pounds of solid freaking muscle!

“Quit now, Barber, and we can end this whole thing peacefully!” You give up on pinching him in favor of going for his beautiful face, squeezing his jaw with just enough force to make him look ridiculous. “C’mon! I just want a couple of hours to quietly lust after my favorite movie star! Is that really too much to ask, you gorgeous hobgoblin?! Argh!”

“Hell yeah, it is! Cuz' if you think that I’m gonna just sit idly by and watch my as my lady drools over some fucking muscle-bound dimwit who probably can't string two sentences together...then you are dead wrong, baby girl.” Andy manages to shake off your hold before nipping at your hand, making you yelp. 

“There’s nothing wrong with a little, safe objectification every now and again, my darling Andrew!”

“I think you’re missing a very important fucking piece here, sweetheart.” He growls, blocking you when your knee almost grazes his goods. Fed up with your squirming, he relaxes his body so that he’s laying on top of you – making you to take his full weight. And then he makes surprisingly quick work of capturing your hands, pinning them above your head with minimal effort.

“Damn it, Andy!” You shriek as you struggle in his hold, bucking your hips this way and that. He decides to repay you tenfold by grinding his rapidly hardening cock against your panty covered pussy. “Why must you always be so freaking difficult?!”

You knew you should’ve put on a pair of shorts before joining movie night. And maybe some sweats. Or, perhaps, a whole goddamned snowsuit! 

You force yourself to bite back yet another moan as Andy continues to torment you with his exaggerated, lazy thrusts, reveling in your helplessness. 

“Because you’re mine, woman.” His free hand goes to grip your chin, making it impossible for you to break his captivating gaze. “And the only fucking man that my woman is allowed to lust after, long for, and/or safely objectify is me. That’s it. And I refuse to fucking share you.”

You go to reply, only to be caught off guard when his eager mouth slants possessively over yours. And he doesn’t hold back as his tongue sweeps past your lips. Andy groans into the kiss, taking his sweet time while he seeks to conquer every last shred of free will you own.

“God, Andy! I–I…” You rasp as he trails a series of savage love bites along the delicate curve of your jaw before nibbling his way down your throat. “Shit!”

“You know better than to forget who you fucking belong too, baby girl.” His fingers weave their way under the thin fabric of your t-shirt to cup your breast, molding and kneading your sensitive flesh. “And then you tried to withhold your cuddles.” His sharp teeth nip and suck at your pulse point. You had little doubt that you’d be covered in his marks by the end of the night. “All over some limp-dicked prick named Drysdale.”    

A soft whimper catches in your throat as the pad of his thumb begins toying with your nipple, his sensual ministrations making you shiver.

God, your man was good with his hands. Fucking menace to society!

“Apologize.” Andy whispers as he returns his attention to your mouth, letting his plush lips skim over yours in one featherlight kiss after another. “Tell me you’re sorry for attempting to deprive me of all these luscious curves, when you know full well that I like to have a little something to hold onto during our movie nights.” 

“I…I…ooh!” You whine when his hand leaves your cleavage to slip between your thighs so he can lightly pinch your aching clit. “Fuck, I’m sorry, Daddy!” He enjoys the sound of your apology so much that he does it again, and this time it’s accompanied by a dark chuckle. 

The fucking sadist! 

“I’m sure you are, sweet girl.” Your man hums before finally moving to sit up, taking you with him. “But I’m afraid you’re gonna have to do better than that if you expect me to sit through this shitty film after all this.”

Having said that, Andy then gently deposits you next to him on the couch before standing up.

“Show me how bad you want to watch your little movie, baby. Prove to me you’re willing to do whatever it takes to make me happy again.” 

Heaving a small, breathy sigh, you slide your thumbs into the waistband of your panties -- slowly sliding them down your hips before letting them hit the carpeted floor below. Your boyfriend’s nostrils flare as his hungry eyes stray to your weeping cunt. 

“Keep going, princess. Be my good girl and give Daddy what he wants.” Comes Andy’s downright devilish purr. Wanting desperately to comply, you spread your thighs wide in a sweet, submissive offering. “There we go.”

Of course you allow him to look his fill. And only when he’s satisfied does he finally hit “play”.  

“Thank you.” You murmur as your focus briefly turns to the television, but at no point do you attempt to close your legs. You had a feeling that your Big Man was nowhere near finished with you. 

At least not yet. 

His wicked grin letting you know that you’re about to earn every minute of the entertainment you’d been pushing for all evening. 

___

One Hour Later…

“Ungh!” Your muffled cry splits the air as another spasm rocks you, effectively drowning out whatever the hell was happening on screen. “Oh, God – please!” Your hips jerk of their own volition as Andy continues to feast on your quivering pussy.

“I’m not gonna tell you again.” He snarls from his place between your parted thighs. “You’re the one who complained about my being too handsy, so that means you had better do a good job of holding yourself open for me.” His harsh tone brooks no room for argument while he watches you struggle to keep your tired arms hooked under your knees -- a thin sheen of sweat coating your skin as your entire body begins to tremble once more.   

His thick fingers dig into the material of his couch cushions as he goes back to enjoying his meal, humming in pleasure as his tongue traces feverish circles over your pulsating clit again and again. 

“I know, baby girl. I know.” Andy briefly pauses long enough to blow a cool puff of air across your overstimulated bundle of nerves. “But remember you brought this on yourself.”

“Fuckfuckfuck!” You hiss as your eyes threaten to roll into the back of your head, your empty walls greedily clenching around nothing.

“You better not – don’t you dare cum!” He orders, even as he feels you threatening to shatter into a million beautifully broken pieces.  

But it’s too fucking late.

Part of the reason you hated when Andrew used edging as a punishment was because you had such a hard time behaving for him. You almost always came without permission, no matter how hard you tried to fight it.

And unfortunately, this time is no exception. 

A hoarse sob spills from your throat as you spiral into bliss, unable to stop the surge of white hot electricity as it courses through your veins.

“Nooo!” You wail as you attempt to scramble away from his tender assault. "Please, no more!" But your handsome tormentor proves to be much too fast for the likes of a little brat like you.

“Well,” Andy murmurs, leveling you with a disappointed gaze before picking up the remote and restarting the movie. “I guess we’ll just have to try this again. And since you can't seem to cooperate…” He wraps his powerful biceps around your thighs, trapping you in his fervid embrace. 

“Looks like Daddy’s gonna have to use his hands after all, huh?”

Well, fuck!

END

[petersvenom]

YN BEING AN INTERVIEWER AT LONDON FF AND HIM BEING ABSOLUTELY SMITTEN AND THE WHOLE CAST MAKES FUN OF HIM BC OF HOW RED HE IS AROUND THEY EXCHANGE NUMBERS AND GO ON A DATE AFTERWARDS AND FALL IN LOVE

ADORABLE ADORABLE IDEA

ask box | timothée masterlist | main masterlist

Being a young journalist based in London, it was rare to have an opportunity like this one—to interview this generation’s most talented actors and directors at the London Film Festival. Yet, here you were, sitting in front of a giant crowd, about to start a whole panel.

You’d already interviewed a few big names—Jennifer Lawrence, Tilda Swinton, Gaten Matarazzo, even Jodie Turner Smith! Now, however, you were finally off of the red carpet and getting to interview the cast and director of Bones and All.

You were especially excited because you’d read the book earlier this year and loved it. You’d been eager to both watch the movie and ask the cast and crew questions about the process of filming. Luckily for you, the opportunity came up for you to run the panel after the screening.

You’d been too busy preparing your questions for the panel to see the actors of Bones and All on the red carpet, but you saw Timothée and Taylor very briefly as they walked into the theater to view the screening and god, they looked beautiful.

After watching the movie, there was a brief intermission for you to set up for the panel and for Luca, Timothée, and Taylor to change into some more comfortable clothing.

Over the past few months of attending film festivals and interviewing big names in the entertainment industry, you’d gotten much better at interacting with celebrities. Which was why now, as you watched the main cast of Bones and All approach you, their attention solely on greeting you, you were quite calm.

On the outside at least, it was pretty cool to meet Luca Guadagnino.

Taylor quickly pushed past both of the men to greet you first. “Hi, I’m Taylor, I absolutely love your outfit.” she complimented you, eyeing your classy yet feminine suit you chose to wear. It was comfortable and chic.

“Thank you, but you look amazing! I’m Y/N.” you gave her a quick hug before she stepped aside to let you introduce yourself to the others.

“Y/N, it’s lovely to see you. Did you enjoy the movie?” Luca shook your hand warmly. You were melting inside at the fact that it was the Luca Guadagnino speaking to you, but remained professional on the outside.

“I loved it.“ you told him honestly, “It was a perfect mix of horror and romance. One would think it’d be odd for a movie about two cannibals, and yet feels right, not forced.”

“Thank you, darling.” he squeezed your hands gratefully and moved in the direction of Taylor, taking a seat beside her. That left Timothée, who was clutching his hands together in front of himself almost.. shyly?

“I’m Y/N.” you stuck out your hand towards him, “Your performance in the film was great. This movie has got to be one of the best ones I’ve seen at the festival so far.”

At your words, he blushed a deep red. He tried to mask it by rubbing at his nose, successfully covering half of his blushed cheeks. “Oh—uh, t-thank you. My name’s, uh—“

After a few seconds of mustering and stutters, Taylor cut in, “Timothée! Your name is Timothée!”

Timothée nodded sheepishly and scratched the back of his neck. “What she said.”

“I know who you are,” you chuckled teasingly, “I do my research before interviewing someone.”

Timothée widened his eyes and began stuttering out an apology, “I didn’t mean to imply that I thought you don’t do your research, you’re clearly prepared and I’m—“

“Completely making a fool of yourself.” Luca finished for him, holding back a laugh as Taylor nudged him. Clearly, they were enjoying Timothée’s display of nervousness.

“Yeah, what he said.” Timothée pursed his lips and stared down at his boots, shielding his visible embarrassment from you. He turned around and took his seat before you could muster a response.

“What’s wrong with you?” Taylor inquired as he sat in between her and Luca. Timothée forced his head into his hands, embarrassed with himself.

“He’s smitten for her.” Luca answered, keeping his voice low. You were just a few feet away now getting your microphone attached, so if he spoke too loudly you would be able to hear them.

“Am not.” he huffed, pulling at the sleeves of his dark blue sweater. Taylor leaned her face closer to Timothée’s and eyed him carefully.

“Oh my god, you are!” Taylor gasped, hitting Timothée’s shoulder. “Your whole face is red, stop trying to lie.”

“Okay—fine. Shut up.” Timothée groaned, trying his hardest to ignore Luca and Taylor’s teasing coos at him. He chose to stare at you instead.

The interview went pretty well—for you, at least. Timothée, however, was off of his game completely. He was fine and professional whenever you asked Luca or Taylor a question, but he was a total pile of mush whenever your attention was turned to him.

He was afraid you thought that his nervous stuttering was because he didn’t know anything about the movie. In reality, he was proud of the movie and he had a lot to say about it. He’d been praising the movie and discussing it in other interviews and at other festivals. He was just nervous, you made him feel like an awkward teenage boy.

He just hoped you weren’t mad at him for possibly ruining your interview.

When the interview was over and everyone started leaving the theater, Timothée convinced himself he needed to fix this, he needed to see you again.

He impatiently waited for you to say your goodbyes to Luca and Taylor, fumbling with his fingers as he attempted to rehearse how to ask you out—without being too upfront.

“Hey Timothée,” you called, making his head snap up. Taylor and Luca had left, standing behind you just a few feet away to allow him to say goodbye to you—unbeknownst to you but very clearly to Timothée that they were eavesdropping, “you did great. Thank you for the interview and congrats on the success of the film so far.”

“Thanks,” he said quietly, pausing just long enough for you to think that your conversation was over. You were just about to walk away towards the exit when Taylor and Luca gave Timothée wide eyes, reminding him that he needed to—y’know, speak!

“Wait! Uh—sorry, I just wanted to ask you if I could, uhm, if I could get your number, maybe?” he pulled out his phone from the pocket of his black leather pants. “I’ve acted like a total doofus, and it’s just because I think you’re really pretty and I tend to get nervous. Let me prove that I’m.. not like that all the time?” he requested politely, making you smile.

“Of course,” you took his phone and put in your contact info. “And for the record, I don’t think you acted like a doofus. Call me anytime.” you handed back his phone and walked off, leaving Timothée alone with his racing thoughts.

Taylor quickly rushed up to him and punched his shoulder lightly, “Good job! You got her number?” All Timothée could do was nod.

“She’s a keeper,” Luca informed, clicking his tongue.

Timothée furrowed his eyebrows, “How do you know?”

“Because despite acting like a fish out of water, she still doesn’t think you’re a fool.”

[trashmouth-richie]

DICED: 3 | detention |

COLLAB WITH @munson-blurbs 💋

Chapter || 1 | 2 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

W.C 2.6k

Warnings: NO MINORS, hand jobs, throat kissing, public sex acts etc

Summary: Eddie has a dream that leads to him needing a womanly touch.

Pairing: Eddie x Fem! Bestfriend! Reader

Thanks for this.” Your voice drips with sarcasm as you and Eddie enter O’Donnell’s room for after-school detention. You pick the desk in the far-left corner of the class; Eddie, of course, plunks down in the chair next to you.

“I thought we established that it was your fault,” he mutters through gritted teeth, running his palm over the graffiti carved onto the tabletop. “You and that damn skirt.”

“My skirt didn’t make you do shit,” you argue back. “And now I’m missing out on my after-school rush tips because you’re like a feral wolf.”

Eddie tilts his head back and howls loudly just as Ms. O’Donnell walks in.

“Charming, Mr. Munson,” she chides, peering over her wire-frame glasses disapprovingly. “And Ms. Y/L/N…I’m surprised to see you here. Looks like your friend has been rubbing off on you.”

“In a sense, yes,” Eddie whispers under his breath, snickering. You kick his foot as hard as you can.

“Well,” the older woman continues, fixing a non-existent stray gray hair, “you’ll be here for an hour; not a minute less. No music, no smoking, no funny business. I’ll be making copies and prepping, but if I see or hear anything, you’ll be here every day for the next week. Is that clear?”

You nod, and Eddie follows up with an indignant “yes, ma’am.”

As soon as the sound of her heels clicking fades down the hallway, Eddie plops his head down on the desk, frizzy curls splayed out. “Well, good night!” he chirps, and you roll your eyes as you pull out your math textbook and start your homework.

No sooner do you finish the first problem do you hear his light snores echoing in the room. You’re fairly certain that sleeping was not on O’Donnell’s list of approved detention activities, but you don’t dare wake him. Between the sounds of neighbors’ domestic disputes, the overpowering hum of the generator, and the pipes clanging, Forest Hills Trailer Park is not the easiest place to relax at night. Your heart breaks slightly at the thought of him being so tired that he can barely keep his eyes open.

Eddie, however, is having much more pleasant thoughts.

You’re sitting on your knees on his bed, wearing the matching red lace set that he now owned the upper half of. Petals are scattered underneath you, a slight halo of light catching against your perfectly plump tits. You’re whispering his name to him, beckoning him closer curling your manicured finger. He joins you on the bed, kissing your neck and entrapping his fingers in your dripping folds. You reach down and unleash him from the blue plaid cotton of his boxers. Your hands are like silk against his cock. The same noises you made in the movie theater are echoing against the shitty plywood walls of the trailer. Your voice gets more and more frantic calling out his name, he’s so close, God your hands feel so fucking good. Eddie hits the floor.

“Jesus, Eddie, you okay?” You reach out your hand to lift him from the ground and he takes it, hoisting himself so he’s standing. “Did you hit your head?”

“Mm, nope,” he shakes his mane of curls, wiping the sleep from his eyes. “Just slept too good, I guess.”

You bit your lower lip to keep yourself from laughing. “Yeah, it looks like you had a nice dream,” you tease, motioning to the strain against the crotch of his jeans. “What happened? Did Chrissy Cunningham let Dream Eddie peek under her cheer skirt, hmm?”

“Bite me,” he mumbles, crimson seeping into his cheeks. He pauses for a moment, his lips turning upwards into a sly grin. “Actually…”

“No way,” you rebut, scrunching your nose in disgust. “I am not doing that here; absolutely not.”

Eddie pouts, tracing circles on your knees with his finger. “But I didn’t even tell you what my idea was yet! Besides,” he adds, “rules are rules.”

You exhale, frustrated. “Fine. What did you have in mind?”

His eyes twinkle, and you’re already regretting this. “I’m so glad you asked, darling.” His theatrics know no bounds as he presses on. “As you can see, I’m in a bit of a predicament here that requires your…handiwork.”

“Can’t we just do this at your house?” you whine, putting your hands over your eyes. “O’Donnell could come back at any second and catch us!”

“All part of the thrill, baby,” Eddie preens, beaming from ear to ear. You hate the way your stomach flip-flops at the pet name, especially given the lewd context. “C’mon, it’s technically my day to get off, sweetheart, and I rolled detention.” He smirks at your balking face. “Yesterday was your day. You remember that? At the movies, when I–”

“Of course I remember! I was there, too, you idiot,” you interrupt him harshly. Yeah, you were there physically, but Eddie’s touch felt like an out-of-body experience. The way his hands flitted along your thighs as they made their way up to your most intimate parts; how soft yet strong his fingers felt inside you; the precision with which he played with your clit. He’d read your body like a goddamn map.

You look nervously around the room, the room is empty, just the steady hum of the heater kicking on. “Well?” you raise your eyebrows at him, “Should we wait until O’Donnell comes back to see your dick or are going to undo your pants?”

“Fuck, you’re s’ needy” Eddie says with a wink, he starts unzipping his pants but stops, “umm if I remember correctly, I did this part for you.”

Rolling your eyes you shove your desk closer to his as you try to calm your shaky hands. Eddie would have no way of knowing this but you’ve never this much of any man. And maybe with a random guy this would be easier but this was Eddie. Your Best Friend, Eddie.

You fumbled with his handcuff belt as you hurriedly unstrapped the cheap leather from its holdings, your tongue is poked out as you try your hardest to undo the button on his jeans with one hand. Your hand skates below the elastic of his boxers as you unsheath his cock. Eddie sucks in a breath through his teeth. Wow. It’s almost three of your fingers thick, a protruding vein running along the length like a lightning bolt. A bead of sticky precum is at the tip oozing like a tube of glue uncapped in art class.

“It, uh, helps if you have something to lube it up with,” Eddie tells you. “Here, give me your palm.” He brings your hand to his mouth and spits into it. “Should be good now.”

Eddie’s hot saliva running thick through your fingers is enough to make you wet. Rubbing your hand down his shaft you remember how he kissed your neck while he touched you, mimicking his movements from yesterday. You start kissing behind his ear, a soft whimper leaves his mouth as he sucks his bottom lip between his teeth.

“That’s it, baby,” he moans. “You c-can…you can hold it tighter, please.” You tighten your grip, wrapping your hand around his length. Eddie looks down and lays his hand over yours.

“My cock looks so big in your hands, doesn’t it?” he goads you, eyes pleading for you to talk dirty back to him.

“Doesn’t just look big, Eds,” you whisper, gliding your hand from base to tip, “it is big. So. Fucking. Big.” You punctuate the last three words with bites along his neck, making him groan loud enough to drown out the heater.

Your hands are twisting and jerking in a movement you’re unfamiliar with, “is this okay big boy?” You hum into Eddie’s ear as you snake your tongue around the lobe.

“S’good. Fuck sweetheart, don’t stop.” Eddie wraps a ringed hand in your hair bringing you closer to him almost chest to chest as you barely keep your ass in your seat. “Wish I could have that pretty mouth, too.”

There’s a mischievous glimmer in your eye as you respond, “we have to save something for next time, right? Rules are rules.”

“Holy shit, you’re gonna kill me.” He throws his head back. “Wan’ you closer…on my lap…fuck these stupid fucking desks!” He slaps a hand down, and you nearly giggle at his frustration. You’re the one doing this to him. You’re making him feel good.

You get a wild idea, “up now,” you lead Eddie to O’Donnell’s desk by his erect cock, slamming him into the chair by his shoulders you climb into his lap, straddling his leg. You dribble spit onto his cock as your hand strokes him and down.

You kiss his neck bruisingly deep as Eddie wraps an arm around the small of your back, his head thrown back as he moans your name.

“Faster,” he sputters, tugging on your hand and jerking it up and down. “Thassit, keep that rhythm, fuck.” He bites down on his other fist to keep from moaning too loudly. Sweat mats his curly hair to his forehead. He wants nothing more than to throw you up against the wall and take you right here and now, but that would defeat the purpose of the seven day agreement. He doesn’t want this to end before it has to.

You don’t even realize what you’re doing, but Eddie does; he feels it.

“Princess,” he says softly, using the new pet name before he can think it through, “I thought today was about me.”

You furrow your brows in confusion. “It-it is, Eds.”

Eddie gives a small laugh, sending vibrations through you. “Then why are you grinding on my thigh?”

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” you murmur, hoping your embarrassment isn’t too evident. “I’ll stop.”

He grins, putting his hands behind his head and stretching slightly. “Well, now, I didn’t say that.” He wraps his hands around your waist guiding your movements to match the rhythm of your hand. “F-fuck. The only thing hotter than you getting off is you getting off while getting me off.”

The friction against your clit coupled with his dirty talk becomes too much. You lose yourself in your movements, frantically riding his upper leg while sliding your fist along his length. “ ‘m s’close Eddie.”

Eddie grabs a fistful of your hair at the nape of your neck and gently pulls, angling your neck perfectly for his hot mouth to pepper with kisses. You feel his teeth on your skin as he nips at it. “M-me, too,” he admits, trying not to sound disappointed. He wants you to touch him forever, and his inevitable release ensures that won’t happen.

He grips your plush thigh as he finishes, shooting thick, white ropes onto your hand. He’s murmuring your name over and over, still in disbelief that you are the one doing this to him.

You’re at the edge of your own orgasm when you hear the tell-tale sound of O’Donnell’s heels clacking back down the hall. “Shit!” you hiss, reluctantly climbing off of him and grabbing a handful of tissues to wipe off the evidence. Eddie fumbles with his belt as he runs back to his seat.

The two of you sit still as stone as she walks into the room. “I trust you two were well-behaved,” she says crossly. You’re expecting Eddie to bite back with a snide remark, but he simply nods and mumbles a “yes, ma’am.”

A folded piece of composition paper quietly lands on your desk a few moments later. Eddie’s scrawled handwriting reads:

Sorry you didn’t get to finish. I owe you an O ;)

You hold back a giggle as you write back:

No worries—wasn’t my day, anyway.

Eddie shakes his head as he scans your response. He mouths Still owe you, and you roll your eyes playfully.

Later that evening, you flounce into Family Video to find a movie and visit your friend, Robin. She’s there tonight, working with Steve Harrington.

“Looks like tonight is a Molly Ringwald night,” you joke, placing The Breakfast Club and Sixteen Candles on the counter. The two of them are unsuccessfully trying to stifle their laughter. “What?”

“Did you, uh, run into a doorknob?” Robin manages between giggles. “Over and over again?” She holds up her compact mirror, and you see in your reflection that your neck is covered in hickeys.

“Jeez, Y/N,” Steve wrinkles his nose, “who attacked you?”

“N-no one,” you mutter, cheeks burning hot.

Robin’s eyes widen. “Wait a second,” she gasps, “didn’t you and Eddie have detention after school today?”

If looks could kill, Robin would be a goner. “Shut up,” you say harshly.

“You and Eddie Munson? The dude who runs that weird cult Henderson, Wheeler, and Sinclair joined?” Steve crosses his arms over his chest. “Guess we know why they call him The Freak–dude likes to get it in on school property.”

“He didn’t get it in,” you correct him, although you have a fleeting thought that it may have evolved to that point if you hadn’t been interrupted. What’s scarier is that you would have let it. “And we aren’t, like, together or anything. He’s just teaching me some stuff.”

“Mhm,” Robin smirks knowingly. “And, uh, what lesson was that?” She points at your neck, and she and Steve start laughing all over again. You flip them off, grabbing your movie selections and heading home.

And when you pop the first VHS into the player, you find yourself wishing a certain metalhead was there to cuddle up on the couch with you. He’d lay on your lap while you comb through his curls with your fingers. Every once in a while, he’d take your hand and press delicate kisses to it, a smile dancing on his lips. You almost reach for the phone and call him, but you decide against it. Whatever feelings you were developing for him have to be shoved deep, deep down. You’re not about to ruin a good thing by falling in love with your best friend. Not when he’ll never feel the same way.

Taglist: @munson-blurbs @boomhauer @b-irock @big-ope-vibes @sidthedollface2 @tlclick73 @manda-panda-monium @bimbobaggins69 @birdsinmywalls @vecnuthy @eddiemunsons-fucktoy @figmentofquinn @ghostlyreads @heytherehowdyworld @msgexymunson @watercoloredlie @nushy @mystars123

[undercoveravenger]

Dancing Lights

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Male!Reader

Requested: Yes

Original Request: "Hi! I was wondering if you could write something with Steve Harrington? Like with a tall, male reader who kinda protects Steve (and is the co-babysitter). I was thinking it could take place in season 3 when the Scoops Troop is coming up to the mall from the Russian base. Steve is drugged and so is the reader, they are both profusely injured. After trying to watch Back to the Future, Steve and the reader talk in the bathroom. Steve ends up vaguely talking about his crush, the reader doesn’t realize Steve is talking about him (cliché, I know) and tries to act happy for Steve even while being incredibly jealous. That would be amazing, feel free to not do it or change anything. I love your writing!"

-----

You'd always thought that the Starcourt mall was beautiful, with its bright lights and brilliant colors and the wide array of shops. You and your best friend Steve had spent hours exploring all the different stores and sneaking into movies after his shifts at Scoops Ahoy, but now that you had seen what really laid beneath the towering mall, you couldn't help but feel differently.

Even now, with the floaty light-headed feeling brought on by the drugs the Russian agents had administered to you and your friends, you couldn't shake the knowledge of what you had seen at the bottom of the elevator shaft.

With more of the agents surrounding the mall, Dustin and Erica were quick to herd you, Steve, and Robin further into the building, eventually depositing the three of you in empty seats in a theater playing some new movie called Back to the Future before scurrying off out of the theater. You assumed that they were probably going to try and contact the rest of the group of troublemakers, but found yourself too transfixed by the way the lights from the movie played across your best friend's face.

Of course you had always known that Steve Harrington was handsome. It was one of the simple truths of life; the sky is blue, water is wet, and Steve Harrington was absolutely gorgeous. He always had been.

Now though, with that carefree smile and the happy giggles that kept escaping him, he was more. Steve was breathtaking, almost ethereal in your drug-addled mind, even with the rapidly-purpling bruises and the split lip.

That thought was a sobering one, killing off the slight smile that has been tugging at your lips in an instant. Throughout all the years you'd known Steve, you'd come to take on the role of his protector, of sorts, steering him away from parties before they went south, away from people who meant to hurt him, and out of bad situations. It hurt to know that you hadn't been able to protect him today the way you always had.

Steve turned, meeting your eyes as you started to get lost in your thoughts. He frowned a little at the look on your face, able to tell that something was bothering you even through the haze of his high.

“C’mon dude,” he murmured quietly, taking your hand in his and tugging you to your feet and out of the theater. He led you back into the main foyer of the mall, intent on finding out what was bothering you so damn badly, but he quickly found himself distracted by the swaying and shifting of all the lights. “Look,” he said, prompting you to follow his gaze.

You stumbled to a stop against the second-story railing, staring out over the mall. As the lights changed and blurred they began to warp your vision, spinning faster and faster until it felt like you were spinning too, stomach flipping with the feeling until you were certain that you only had a matter of minutes until you were vomiting.

It seemed that Steve was feeling similarly as he took off after you as you bolted for the nearest bathroom, finding yourselves hunched over the closest toilet bowls as you retched, emptying your stomachs of their contents.

Eventually, with the roiling of your stomach and the spinning in your mind finally settled, you sit back, leaning heavily against the cold tile of the wall. “The world still spinning for you over there?” you called over to Steve, feeling much calmer now that you were finally able to think somewhat clearly.

“No,” came his mumbled response, “It finally stopped.” He was quiet for a moment before continuing, “I don’t think the drugs are all the way out of our systems yet though; I still feel kinda floaty.”

Your brows furrowed and you found yourself looking at the divider between your stalls like you would actually be able to see him through it, “Floaty?” you asked, a little concerned.

“Yeah,” he confirmed, in that same careless way he always spoke, like the consequences of the world could never touch him. “But not bad floaty- just kinda feels like being in love.”

You huffed, tipping your head back until it thunked against the wall behind you, “And what would the great Steve Harrington know about love? I didn’t think you’d ever felt that way about anyone but Nancy.”

Steve laughed then, and you found yourself smiling at the sound, knowing that, even as injured as he was, if Steve was laughing then everything would be okay. His laughter had always been contagious like that, his moods infectious- you were happy when he was, shared in his sour moods, and outraged on his behalf when someone wronged him- but now, with his easy laughter, like you’d told some amazing joke, everything felt right again. “I know more about love than you give me credit for, dude,” Steve retorted. “I’m in love right now, y’know.”

You rolled your eyes, idly picking at some of the blood caked on your hands, “Still pining after Nancy doesn’t count Steve.”

“I never said I was still in love with her,” he pointed out. “I don’t know if I ever really was or if I just thought I was supposed to be.”

You were momentarily stunned by his admission, but you figured it was probably just the lingering effects of the drugs talking. “Okay then, if it’s not Wheeler, tell me about the girl you’re in love with.”

Steve was quiet for a few minutes and you almost wondered if he’d fallen asleep by the time he finally spoke. “It’s not someone that I ever expected to fall for,” he explained softly, “But now that I have, it’s like it’s the most natural thing in the world.” You’d never heard him like this, not even when he was dating Nancy and would talk to you about her. “People always describe falling in love as this big dramatic thing, but for me it was like- like wading into the deep end of the pool, one step in front of the other until you’re swimming and then you can’t touch the bottom anymore and that’s okay because you’re having a good time anyway.” He takes a deep breath and you can hear him shifting around on the other side of the stall divider, like he was leaning a little closer. “I’ve never known a better person- smart and kind and protective and handsome- like, oh my god, crazy stupid handsome-”

Just like that, your mind came screeching to a stop. Handsome? you wondered, If that’s the word he used does that mean…? “Steve?” you interrupted gently, “Are you- Is this person a guy?”

“Is, um, is that okay?” he asked, and you could tell he was nervous, like he was actually worried about what you might say.

You couldn’t bite back a grin, amused by the idea that you might ever not support Steve. Sure, seeing him in love with someone that wasn’t you hurt, but you would always rather Steve be happy than trouble him with something as trivial as your own feelings. “Of course it is, Stevie. I just want you to be happy.” You pressed on, ignoring the sharp spike of jealousy, “Do I know him?”

“Yeah,” he replied, “We grew up together, y’know? Same age, same interests. He’s always been a really good friend of mine.”

Your brows furrowed as you tried to think through all of the guys that you and Steve had been friends with for that long, but found yourself pretty much drawing a blank apart from Tommy H. You hoped that Steve had better taste than to be crushing on him, but there really wasn’t anyone else that you could think of. “I hope he’ll treat you right,” you said finally, still trying to puzzle out the identity of Steve’s crush.

The sounds of Steve’s laughter shook you out of your thoughts and you were stunned further as he slid under the partition into the stall with you and scrambled up to sit across from you. 

“What?” you asked, suddenly feeling like maybe Steve was laughing at you. “What’s so funny?”

Steve’s lips curled up into that sweet smile you’d always loved, big brown eyes fond as they looked at you, “He takes really good care of me.” 

“That’s good,” you said, forcing yourself to grin at him, despite the burning ache of jealousy. As long as Steve is happy, you reminded yourself. “I hope things work out for the two of you.”

Steve gave you an amused look before scooting closer to you, gesturing for you to lean closer like he was going to tell you a secret. He waited until you leaned in before turning his head and kissing you.

You froze, stunned, by this turn of events. Steve wasn’t deterred though, shifting closer and slipping a hand around the back of your neck to give him a better angle. 

You regained your senses when Steve bit gently at your lip, pressing back against him and moving your lips against his. Your hands come up to grip his hips and draw him closer to you, lips twitching up into a slight smile as he deepens the kiss, the taste of iron strong on your tongue from the blood covering his lips and the lower half of his face. 

You groaned as he pulled away, tucking your face into the crook of Steve’s neck in your embarrassment, “I take it I’m the person?”

His laughter assured you that you were right. “What do you think?” he said, running his fingers through your hair fondly, “Are things gonna work out?”

Steve’s prompting got you to lift your head and look at him again, and you couldn’t hide the smile that overtakes you. “Y’know, I think we can figure something out,” you say, leaning in to steal another kiss.

Sure, outside of this bathroom, the two of you had a war to wage, but now the two of you were together, so you knew that everything would be okay. You’d tear the world apart to protect Steve, and now you were sure he’d do the same for you.

[wherethecolorswontgo]

➳ Gareth smutty head cannons

Requested <3 @fynixsworld

Contrary to popular belief I think Gareth 100% is a dom

Now don’t get me wrong! he has his sub moments but, he just loves angry sex wayyyy too much

He easily loses his temper and there’s no better way to blow off steam

Like I can definitely see this man getting pissed off because of something Eddie said or maybe a shitty gig and just sneaking over to your house and fucking the absolute shit out of you

There’s no denying he loves when you pull his hair

Dare I say he also has a thing for back scratches

He makes sure you keep your nails long and manicured just for that reason

Shows them off like trophies to the hellfire guys

Gareth would most definitely DEFINITELY love you sitting on his lap at anytime but, he loves when you sit on his lap while he plays his drums

Before the guys get to his house for practice he likes to bend you over them for a quickie

He loves being ridden. Idc there’s no debate

Absolutely loves when you’re on top just fucking yourself and using him for your own pleasure

Thigh man

This man STAYS in between your thighs just going to town for hours

If there’s one thing Gareth can do it’s eat pussy

He was probably a virgin before you guys got together let’s be honest but still, Eddie taught him well.

Gareth learned everything he knows about sex from Eddie (that’s probably why he’s so damn good)

Gareth is a simple dude

All you have to do is kiss his neck and he’s ready to go

Gareth probably isn’t really into being called daddy

I mean if that’s your thing he’ll try it out but, I don’t see it being a turn on for him

Calling him baby on the other hand

Just praise him and call him baby

Tell him how good he’s making you feel and he’ll cum instantly

He’s still kinda shy about sex but only when you’re teasing him in public or something. When it’s just the two of you he’s a completely different guy

He gets very flustered when you tease him and tries to hide his boner

The first time he ever saw you in a swim suit he turned red

He couldn’t even glance at you without getting a boner

You could tell what was going on so you led him to a bathroom stall and quickly fixed his problem

Movie nights at his house end up with you guys fucking on the couch and ignoring the movie

The two of you have definitely fucked in the school bathroom at one point

He just skips 3rd period and meets you in the girls bathroom

Gareth’s car is the #1 place you guys fuck. On the way home after hellfire he’ll just pull onto this secluded little dirt road and tell you to climb in the back

The drive in theater is another place you guys always have sex

Literally Gareth is honestly down to fuck anytime, just say the word or call him and he’s on his way

Definitely fantasizes a lot in class and at lunch about fucking you. He zones out and just stares at your tits or something

Eddie has to snap him out of it and then teases him for being so damn horny

Guys I am so sorry this was a tad bit rushed! A lot has been going on recently but you guys are so understanding it’s amazing <33 I have a smut that’ll be posted tomorrow and quite a few more things in the works!! Love you guys